Chapter 2: The Train Ride to Nowhere
Anna stepped onto the train—or more like got swallowed whole by the human sandwich that dared to call itself a "crowd."
Her backpack? The real villain of the day. It clung to her like a clingy octopus, squishing her skinny frame from all sides. No wonder she secretly called this daily chaos her "morning gymnastics class."
She rolled her eyes, let out a sigh worthy of an Oscar, and finally—closed her eyes for a moment.
A moment too long.
Because when she opened them again, she looked like a panicked squirrel caught in headlights.
"Wait... my book—"
Her poetry book. Her heart. Left behind. At home. On her bed. Under Pinky.
No, no, no, no, NO—
(Oh, right. Did I mention she's a poet? Of course she is. But only to herself.)
Would she cry? No. Anna never cries. That's not her vibe.
But she does have a warning for the world:
Don't look at her.
Don't smile at her.
Don't breathe in her direction.
And under absolutely no circumstances—do. Not. Get. Caught. In. Her. Death. Glare.
She glared at everything. The floor. The walls. The scuffed shoes of the man next to her. Even the poor, innocent trees outside the window weren't safe. She glared at them too.
But then—she felt it.
A gaze. Someone watching.
She whipped her head around so fast, her neck cracked. But there was no one. No one at all.
Still, the sensation lingered. Like a ghost hand brushing the back of her neck.
Someone was watching. She'd swear on Pinky's stitched little heart.
Slowly, she turned her eyes back to the window. Her brain shouted, "STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!" "GLARE HARDER!"
But that's when it happened.
She froze.
Her blood turned to ice.
A vivid image rushed through her mind—the one from last night. The shadow. The whisper. The thing she saw. And pretended she didn't.
Her knees wobbled slightly.
For a second, she thought—I might faint.
But then, just like that, the moment passed.
She blinked.
The world returned. The train. The crowd. The suffocating backpack. The squeaky window. All… normal.
But inside her? Something had shifted.
Her cold eyes began to water. Just a little. Not enough to fall. Not enough to notice. But enough to hurt. Enough to ache.
And somewhere, deep in her chest, something whispered:
"You're not alone anymore."
Anna glared at the train passengers like they'd all voted to destroy her favorite poem and slap Pinky in the face.
Her stop came. She didn't step out—she stormed out, like a final boss entering her last battle. But even as her feet hit the ground, that feeling—that gaze—still clung to her like guilt on skin. Unseen. Unshakable. Unwelcome.
She wanted to forget. Tried to forget. At least for now.
Step by step… the school came into view.
Nova Springs Girls' High School. Better known as: The Royal Jail of Misery.
The board outside stood tall—loud, proud—as if it hadn't chewed up lives and spat out broken dreams daily. She stared at it, as if it had insulted her poetry. (Spoiler: That was unforgivable.)
Her steps were heavy. Not lazy. Not weak. Just… tired. Tired of the whispers. The looks. The silent labels.
Rude. Weird. Broken.
They didn't know she used to run like the wind—fast, free, a blur of determination and joy. But now? Now she limped through the days.
No more track. No more sneakers pounding the earth. Just memories. And pain.
She passed the gates like a ghost. Not a single glance her way. No words. Only silence.
But then—wait. Where's my classroom?
Panic? Not quite. Confusion? Kinda. Annoyance? Oh, always.
She spotted someone—a classmate. Finally.
But fate laughed in her face.
Because it was them.
Her enemy Nexi... wearing fake smiles like they were born with them. Uniform spotless. Aura toxic.
Anna's glare? Legendary. If it had powers, the school would've been rubble.
But no. No words. No drama. Just footsteps forward—even if she had no idea where she was going.