I didn't know I had fallen asleep until I woke up the following morning. The alarm continued to shriek at me as I rubbed my eyes. I could tell I already looked like a mess. I smashed my hand onto the snooze button. I swiveled on my mattress and set my feet down. Instantly, they were greeted by the cold, hard floor. I stood up and shuffled my way over the bathroom like an elderly, creaky man. After closing the door behind me, I flicked the lights on and was momentarily blinded. I threw my arm up to shield my eyes and shook myself awake. What day is it again? It can't be Saturday. My eyes adjusted, and I stared at my bags in the mirror. No, it's Friday. I didn't feel the sweet release from school yesterday and Hannah didn't commend me on "making another week" like she typically does while bouncing up and down. I throw water on my face and pat it dry with the hand towel. I felt more refreshed, but when I looked up into the mirror again, I saw a tall, monstrous shadow in the corner of the bathroom behind me.

My chest tightened and my airway squeezed shut as I felt my eyes widen. The feeling I felt from yesterday returned like a wave crashing over me. It devoured me with that horrid feeling. I felt like I was playing Cat and Mouse, except I was the weak, little rodent. It was like time slowed down. My limbs locked into place like pieces of a stone statue. I felt like I was stuck to the ground, merely staring into the mirror at the shadow in the corner. I frantically searched for something that could be there that could be making that shape. Like a shelf casting the shadow, or a towel I had left out. Just a seven-feet-tall towel. A part of me told me to stop kidding myself. Nothing would be there, because my eyes are just tricking me with a sick joke. An extremely sick joke.

Then, the shadow opened its eyes. They looked too large for even a man that tall. They stared me down with no pupils, not blinking. They were swollen looking, at if they would burst at any moment in a spray of juices and blood. Swollen, red veins pulsed as it bored into my soul.

I force myself to whirl around. As that small part of me predicted, I didn't see the shadow. I let out a silent sigh of relief. That was dumb, of course. It wouldn't be there. Ghosts aren't real, dark shadows in corners aren't real! I scolded myself for being scared of a figment of my imagination. Still, I couldn't ignore the small voice in the back of my head telling me that it doesn't add up. How does passing it off as a figment of my imagination explain the familiar feeling I felt from that figure yesterday.

I felt the need to hold myself as if it would protect me. It was like believing as a kid if you covered your head with the blankets at bedtime, you would be protected from the monster under your bed. However this time, despite what I told myself, the monster felt real. It felt like how someone can tell when someone's staring at you. It felt like it was studying me, sizing me up. I had panicked. I was frozen. If it had been real, I would have been dead.

I finished the rest of my morning routine in a sort of frazzled state of mind. I felt like a walking zombie: a machine of flesh with no sense of reality. As I laid back on the couch waiting for the right time to leave, Mom came out from her bedroom. She quickly walked through the living room where I was into the kitchen, noticeably avoiding eye contact with me. I watched her as she grabbed something from the fridge and started to speed walk back to her room. You can't pretend I don't exist.

"Mom?" I asked, the words sounding like a distant echo from far away. She didn't seem to hear me. "Mom, can I stay home from school? I don't feel well," and she shook her head while speeding up. Can we please not do this? Why won't you talk to me? Please! I started sitting up to get ready to go and talk her, but she closed the door to her bedroom without any acknowledgement.

I got up and walked over to the door. I knocked once, twice, thrice, with no answer. I didn't hear any movement from inside. I pressed my head up against the door and checked my phone defeated. It was time to go anyway.

"I'll go to school anyway, so I'll leave now... Love you Mom," I nearly whispered through the door, like a wall separating us that seemed to be just as emotional as it was physical. As I walked away, I couldn't help but hear soft, feeble cries coming from behind that closed door.