In the middle of the night, Raphael had succumbed to a state of deep sleep, yet a vague memory still lingered, slowly manifesting in his dreams.
His mind was plagued with flashing visions of the incident.
A man wailing and writhing in pain.
The agony of his voice haunted him.
In every stomp, kick, and slap, the howling cried endlessly as he winced with every hit. His face formed in distorted expressions from all the suffering.
Raphael sat in a front row seat with his eyes wide open, forcibly watching the scene countless times.
He couldn't look away as his body seemed paralyzed in his seat.
He was trapped in his own body, unable to escape.
The man stared back at him. A mixture of pain and frustration in his eyes. His hand stretched out, trembling. Soft, desperate whispers echoed in the back of Raphael's mind while being drowned out by his never-ending screams.
Why didn't you help me?
Please save me.
Repeating the same words. Slowly, becoming desperate each time.
His eyes locked onto his blackened irises, resembling more of a black hole as he stared deeper, getting drawn into the void unconsciously. Gradually, the surroundings wrapped into chaotic distortion.
Once black irises morphed into olive green, and his hair rapidly grew in long, bluish-black strands, framing the face. The features echoed much like Elena's.
Elena's voice whispered in his ear.
The same pain.
And... agony.
Instead of watching that man, Elena took his place. The same scene, same distress, and same cry for help.
Raphael remained seated in spectator mode, but little by little, his field of vision zoomed out.
A phone manifested in his hand, holding it while looking at the screen. A video of the incident was set on replay while his eyes remained fixated on the scene.
His fingers reached out to pause it, grunting in exasperation while attempting even a slight movement from his thumb.
Nothing.
He was conscious but frozen and paralyzed. Still, out of control.
His thoughts raged, brewing deeply inside of him.
Please stop it.
His eyes squeezed shut.
I don't want to hear it anymore.
Words echoed in his mind, muffling the distorted screams and cries with intense concentration. It didn't stop until a popping sound pinged from his device.
Ding!
His eyes shot open as he gasped. Immediately, the surroundings were silent. No cries. No wails. No whispers. Everything stopped in a snap.
Sylvia Macaulay's name appeared in the notification bar with a message and attachment.
"Did you sleep well, Raphael?"
He blinked in confusion. Suddenly, he could move as he felt his hands clenching. Now, in control. His fingers hovered over the notification to press it, his attention directly drawn to her presence.
His instincts knew the danger, but curiosity got hold of him.
Click.
He tapped on the message.
Unexpectedly, a pair of hands reached out from the screen, straight out of a horror movie scene. Raphael was caught in a surprise as his pupils dilated from the sight, seeing them coming fast towards his direction, unable to react in time.
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Dark, shadow-like arms wrapped around his face in a tight embrace, pulling him closer into his phone.
Forcefully.
Muffled giggles and mocking laughter filled the room.
An image of Sylvia appeared in the attachment from his peripheral vision. She was laughing. The same mocking laughter echoed in the room.
Once again, he couldn't move.
A surge of strange emotions stirred deep inside him.
Shame. Tension. Fear.
Then, he jolted up, awake.
Breathing heavily, the thumping of his chest has been violently pounding deep inside. Sweat dripped down from his forehead as he wiped it off with the back of his hand.
A fever dream?
That was one of the terrible nightmares he had experienced in a while, ever since the day Elena left. A combination of raw emotions and tangible experience. His senses couldn't distinguish it for the most part, and the rollercoaster of emotions suffocated him like in a chokehold.
It's like a reminder etched in his mind.
Nevertheless, it was nothing more than just a bad dream.
He sat there for a couple of minutes, still figuring out what to do in the meantime. His heartbeat had finally calmed down at the same time as his breathing ceased from panic.
Raphael glanced outside the windows out of habit, watching the skies absent-mindedly as they slowly transitioned from dawn to morning.
A thought sparked in his mind.
"Guess I should head out for a jog," he mumbled under his breath.
He got up from his bed and began gearing up with biker shorts, a sweatshirt, and running shoes.
It was five in the morning, the sun had not risen yet from the horizon, keeping the environment cool, and the blurry streaks of dawn painted the scenery in dull and muted colors.
A jog to clear his mind.
His breath puffed in a steady rhythm while running a few miles.
It seemed like he had forgotten the nightmare.
Or so he thought. . .
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"Hey, Raphael, are you listening?"
Fingers snapped, trying to get his attention. The voice beside him seemed familiar, coming from a female with frustration in her tone.
Raphael finally blinked, returning to his senses as he realized.
The day just started, and the homeroom period just began not too long ago. Standing right next to him, Feyline, the class representative, had been insistently snapping fingers in his face.
Her face scrunched up in frustration.
"Raphael, you in there?"
"Ah, sorry," Raphael spoke up and apologized. "I didn't know you were there."
"Yeah, you've been zoning out. You good?"
He nodded dismissively before glancing down at his desk. "What's this again?"
Feyline pointed out the sheet of paper right on his desk with a huff, as if she had just explained it a while ago.
"You need to fill this up for your elective class. Choose whatever feels like you," she instructed it once more. "It serves as an acceleration subject for your future in college."
She grinned with a thumbs-up.
"Hmm... I see," he rubbed his chin, still confused.
Electives, huh?
Several electives listed on the piece of paper piqued his interest, but he decided to get something basic and mundane: photography. The thought of taking pictures instead of interacting with other students was a perfect impression for keeping things subtle.
He just wanted to carry on the day without further thought.
"Hmmm Photography?" Feyline took his sign-up sheet. "Well, just so ya know. You are going to meet other students from different year levels and sections."
Raphael's expression changed, frustrated. "Really?"
"Yeah! A fun experience nonetheless. Who knows, maybe you get to meet new friends?" she beamed up.
A piece of paper slipped into his desk for the room assignment.
He nodded reluctantly once. "Thanks."
"Aight. I will do some roll call, so catch you later," she stepped in at the front of the room and began calling out student names for attendance.
While waiting, his mind drifted, looking outside the window and marveling at the surroundings.
The sun had risen high and above, painting the skies in warm hues of blue, with not a single cloud on the horizon. Trees from the courtyard below remained still, not even a slight breeze in the midst.
Everything is calm and undisturbed.
Feyline's voice muddled in his ears, still reciting names.
A metallic scrape distracted him from the sight.
The chair across him moved as a figure settled into the empty seat in front of him. Immediately, his attention was drawn to her presence.
Sylvia's flaming locks flew down the chair's backrest, swaying lightly from the slight motion, followed by the soft breeze coming from the window. Out of nowhere, she appeared in front of him like a ghost.
Raphael's shoulders tensed up as he uncomfortably shifted his weight to the side, pretending to be preoccupied with something as he looked away from her direction.
The stillness of the surroundings was shattered by her mere existence, sending a cold shiver down his spine.