Chapter 3 CREEPY

LILIAN POV

The moment I stepped into my apartment last night, I’d barely made it past the couch before collapsing, don't blame me.

Now, standing in front of my cracked bathroom mirror, I was paying the price for that decision.

My reflection looked like it hadn’t slept in a decade.

“Morning, zombie edition,” I muttered, dragging a hand through my hair. “Great, Maybe I’ll scare my teachers into passing me.”

My sarcasm tasted stale this morning. Even my jokes were tired.

I splashed cold water on my face and leaned against the sink. It was the same reflection, same chipped tiles, same hollow ache I couldn’t quite name. Living alone had its moments like the quiet, independence, no one to tells me how to live but sometimes, the silence felt like it was swallowing me whole.

Still, no time for existential dread, I had school.

I shuffled to my phone, its cracked screen lighting up like a tiny explosive device, it was 6:00 a.m. The alarm had gone off early again, screaming bloody murder. I groaned when my rang unnecessarily.

“You win,” I said, glaring at it. “But I hate you.”

The call came just as I was deciding whether brushing my hair was worth the effort.

“Liiiiilian!”

I winced, pulling the phone away from my ear. “Jesus, Mia. Are you trying to perforate my eardrum, jeez?”

“It’s a Monday! I overslept, i can’t find my homework, and I think Jonah’s ghosting us again!”

“Mia,” I groaned, “it’s literally six in the morning.”

“Six-oh-two, actually. Which means you’re awake and therefore morally obligated to suffer with me.”

“Not morally,” I said. “Legally, maybe.”

She laughed. “Come on, help me pick an outfit. I’m torn between ‘responsible student’ and ‘hot mess with potential.’”

“Whichever one gets you suspended slower.”

“You’re so helpful.”

“I try,” I said, smiling despite myself. “Wear the plaid one. You’ll look like a confused librarian.”

“Perfect,” she chirped. “That’s exactly the vibe.”

By the time I hung up, I was awake enough to move like an actual person. I threw on a faded black T-shirt that read HATE ALL FUCKERS, my personal brand of anti-social fashion. Then came the jeans, the sneakers, and my denim jacket yeah all done.

As I locked the apartment door behind me, a flicker of light caught my eye the picture frame sitting on my shelf. It was crooked, like always.

A photo of my parents smiling. The kind of smile people have when they still believe life won’t hurt them.

I swallowed hard and straightened the frame. “Yeah,” I muttered. “See you, Mom. Dad.”

The morning air slapped me awake the second I stepped outside. It was chill, the kind of chill that scraped sleep off your skin. My boots hit the pavement rhythmically as I made my way down the block toward Ace’s Café which is where I worked nights and occasionally stopped for free coffee before school.

The place was half-awake, lights flickering on inside. I slipped in through the back door like always.

“Morning, kid,” Mr. Rourke greeted, already in his brown apron.

“Morning,” I yawned. “I need caffeine before I commit a crime.”

“Wouldn’t want that on my conscience. Go on.”

I poured myself a dark roast, black and bitter, and took a sip that felt like survival.

“You working tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, same shift.”

He nodded, then eyed me. “You okay, Lilian? You look... I don't know … tired lately.”

I shrugged. “Story of my life.”

He smiled gently. “Try to get some rest when you can.”

I didn’t bother telling him that rest didn’t change anythingz It just postponed exhaustion.

By the time I got to Crestwood High, the streets were swarming with students. Backpacks bumping, laughter echoing, complaints about homework flying through the air. The usual chaos.

Mia spotted me instantly. “Lilian!” she called, waving like she was flagging down a plane.

I raised my coffee in greeting. “You’re loud enough to summon demons.”

“Good, Maybe they’ll help me pass physics.”

Jonah joined us a moment later, skateboard in hand and the same lazy smirk he always wore. “Morning, rejects.”

“Morning, disappointment,” I shot back.

“Rude,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “But fair.”

Mia grinned. “We missed you at lunch yesterday.”

“I was working,” he said. “Deliveries.”

“Since when do you have a job?” I asked.

“Since my mom started threatening to make me do chores if I didn’t.”

We laughed, falling into our usual rhythm of teasing, complaining, pretending things were normal.

But under it all, I could feel it that strange edge in the air lately. Like the universe was holding its breath and trust me it's annoying.

Classes dragged as usual, Math blurred into English, English into history, history into the kind of boredom that could kill.

During lunch, we sat under the oak tree at the back of the field which was our usual spot.

Mia was scrolling through her phone while Jonah tossed crumbs at a pigeon.

“Okay,” Mia said suddenly, “don’t laugh, but I had this dream last night.”

Jonah groaned. “Oh no, this is not gonna be good.”

“Hear me out! It was about you, Lilian. You were walking in this dark forest, barefoot, and someone or something was watching you. But here’s the freaky part… when you turned around, your eyes weren’t your eyes.”

I paused mid-bite. “Define not my eyes.”

“They were red,” she whispered dramatically. “Like glowing, demon red.”

Jonah snorted. “Nice, Maybe she’s secretly a vampire.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I said flatly.

Mia frowned. “I’m serious, though. It felt… weirdly real.”

I rolled my eyes. “Relax, Friend, It’s just a dream.”

But the way her tone dropped left a faint shiver on my spine.

By the last bell, I was ready to collapse. Mia had detention (again), Jonah had his deliveries, and I had work. My phone buzzed as I walked out of school.

Mia: come by my house tomorrow? I’ll order pizza.

Me: sure, if I survive tonight.

Mia: dramatic much 😭

I smiled faintly, then shoved the phone into my pocket.

The evening shift at Ace’s was the usual blur of caffeine addicts and tired regulars. Steam hissed, machines whirred, and I was moving nonstop pouring, wiping, smiling. My apron smelled like coffee and sugar.

At one point, a little boy dropped his cookie and burst into tears. His mother was flustered, apologizing profusely.

I knelt, handed him another cookie, and whispered, “This one’s magic, Don’t waste it, okay?”

His sniffles stopped. “Magic?”

“Guaranteed to make bad days disappear.”

He grinned and for some reason, that made my chest hurt in a way I couldn’t explain.

Mr. Rourke saw it and smiled. “You’ve got a good heart, Lilian.”

I scoffed. “Don’t spread lies like that, sir.”

At 10 PM, the last customer left, and I flipped the “OPEN” sign to “CLOSED.” The quiet after rush hour was my favorite part, the soft hum of the espresso machine, the faint smell of cocoa in the air, it felt good.

“You heading out?” Mr. Rourke asked as he locked the back room.

“Yeah.”

“Be careful. The news said there’s been some weird stuff downtown lately, people getting jumped, or disappearing.”

I froze mid-step. “Disappearing?”

He nodded. “Probably nothing. Just be alert.”

I laughed lightly. “Always am.”

But I wasn’t, not even nearly enough.

Outside, the streets were nearly empty. The city’s buzz had quieted into a low hum of distant traffic and the soft whisper of wind. I started down the usual path the alley shortcut I took every night.

The streetlights flickered as I entered, and I couldn’t help muttering, “Yeah, that’s not ominous at all.”

The smell of wet concrete filled the air. A cat darted across the path, making my heart jump. I rolled my eyes at myself. “Relax, Lilian. Just a cat.”

My phone buzzed for the hundrent time today it was mia again.

Mia: you home yet?

Me: almost, took a shortcut.

Mia: ew, take the long route.

Me: i’m tired. what’s the worst that could happen?

A chill ran down my spine as I typed it, but I ignored it.

Halfway through the alley, I heard something a soft scrape, like shoes on gravel. I froze and looked over my shoulder but saw nothing.

The sound came again. Closer this time.

“Jonah?” I called. “If this is some dumb prank, I swear I’ll...”

But I didn't see anybody at my back.

I turned back around, forcing myself to keep walking, faster now. My pulse hammered in my throat.

A breeze brushed my neck, it was too cold, too sudden.

I spun around again the empty street.

“Get it together,” I whispered.

But my hands were already shaking.

By the time I stepped out onto the next street, I almost laughed in relief. “See? Still alive.”