Untouched thoughts

Chapter 1: Death

Have you ever wondered if this is really the real reality? Could there be things we don't know about, lurking just beyond our perception?

"Hey, Atlas, wait up!" Kohl's voice rang out across the school field, a note of desperation in his tone as he sprinted towards me.

"What do you need, Kohl?" I replied, turning to face him with an irritated scowl.

"I just wanted to see if I could borrow your notes. I couldn't really keep up in class today," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground, a frown etched on his face.

I sighed, feeling a twinge of sympathy despite my annoyance. "I guess you can borrow them as long as I get them back by Friday," I said, my voice firm to make sure he understood the seriousness.

"Okay, I'll make sure to get them back to you by Friday. I give you my word," he promised earnestly.

I opened my backpack and pulled out the crisp sheets of paper that held all the notes I had taken during school that day. "Here they are," I said, extending the notes toward him. But when I looked up, Kohl had vanished.

"Kohl?!" I called out, a frustrated breath escaping my lips. I glanced at my phone. "It's already five o'clock. I better get home before Mom does, or she'll kill me." I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me.

On my walk home, I passed a gas station just a block away from my house. In the dimming light of the evening, I saw a shadowy figure standing in the back alleyway, its dark yellow eyes fixed on me. A shiver ran down my spine, and a sense of dread settled in my stomach. Gripping my backpack tightly, I started to run.

You're just seeing things, I told myself. "Don't look back, just keep moving," I muttered under my breath. I kept running, the cars passing me oblivious to my fear.

"Finally, I'm home," I sighed in relief as I reached the apartment where we had lived for the past four years. I opened the door and stepped onto the worn brown carpet in the entryway.

I dropped my heavy book bag onto the black leather couch and kicked off my red tennis shoes. Heading to the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair was disheveled and dirty, and my eyes were more bloodshot than blue. I wore an old black hoodie with red sleeves and jeans with holes at the knees.

I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Chicken, check. Rice, check," I murmured, listing the ingredients I needed for dinner. Just as I reached for a frying pan, the apartment door slammed against the wall, the sound echoing through the empty space. Someone was inside the apartment with me.

"Mom!" I yelled, my voice tinged with panic. I put down the frying pan and cautiously walked into the living room. The door was wide open, swaying slightly on its hinges. I shut it, a sudden chill running down the back of my neck, spreading through each vertebra of my spine.

A faint cry came from my mother's room. "Mom?" I whispered, fear creeping into my voice. I opened her door and saw a frail figure under the covers on her bed, moving slightly. I approached the bed, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Mom?" I said again, reaching for the top of the covers. The figure started shaking, the cries growing louder the closer I got. I grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked it off. There was nothing there.

"What the hell?" I muttered, backing away from the bed, confusion and fear mingling in my mind. As I stepped back, I bumped into something solid. It started breathing on my neck, the cold, clammy sensation sending another shiver down my spine.

"Hello?" I said, my voice trembling. My shoulders felt heavy, as if small houses had been placed on them. Slowly, I turned around to face the figure behind me. It was ghastly pale and emaciated, with hair that had once been black, now decaying and matted. Its eyes were dark yellow, sunken deep into its skull.

"Atlas!" my mother called out, her voice carrying a note of concern. "I'm home, where are you?" she yelled, worry evident in her tone.

"Mom, run!" I screamed, my voice cracking with terror.

"What are you talking about, Atlas?" she said, opening the door to her room.

"Mom, no!" I screamed again, the sound of fear raw in my voice.

"Atlas, what's wrong?" she asked, stepping into the room. I sat there, paralyzed with fear, as the figure moved behind her, its bony hands reaching for her neck. In one swift motion, it snapped her neck with a sickening crack. I screamed, helplessly watching her body crumple to the floor. Tears streamed down my face as I cradled my mother's lifeless body.

I looked up, and the figure was gone. I looked back down at my mother's body, my tears mixing with the growing pool of blood. "Don't leave me, Mom. I'm so scared," I whispered, my voice breaking. I froze as I felt the same cold breath on the back of my neck, the same chill running down my spine.

"No, please don't kill me," I begged, my voice barely above a whisper. The figure laughed, a sound filled with malice and delight. Slowly, I turned to face it.

"What are you?" I asked, my voice trembling. The figure's mouth twisted into an amused, wicked smile. In an instant, it grabbed me by the neck, its grip cold and unyielding. It flicked its thumb into the side of my neck, snapping it effortlessly.

The figure vanished, leaving my mother and me dead on the ground. The TV flickered on, displaying a news report.

"Student found dead tonight around 7 pm outside of Jacksonville High School. The body was found on the side of the road with a broken neck." The TV showed images of the dead body. It was Kohl.