“I am free, and that is why I am lost.”

  “Does anyone know who said this?”

  A few students raise their hands. I’m almost certain it was Kafka, but I don’t say it. Not worth being wrong over.

  Sad man, though. Couldn’t quite grasp life. Couldn’t even grasp the woman he loved. A tragedy.

  A greater tragedy, perhaps, is that I can’t quite grasp Miss Sarah either.

  She continues speaking, drifting through the works of melancholic writers and their impact on society. Some of it is interesting. Most of it isn’t.

  Her voice, however, is.

  Soft, steady. Almost hypnotic.

  It wraps around my thoughts and pulls them under, like a lullaby meant for something far less innocent than sleep.

  This class has much to offer me. The literature interests me. But sleep attracts me more. Only Sarah keeps it from being completely unbearable.

  Eventually, even that isn’t enough.

  I let myself drift.

  Deeper.

  And deeper.

  Until I reach that familiar place—temporary death.

  She’s waiting there.

  But something is different this time.

  —

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Something feels… wrong.

  I hesitate.

  “Wait. I’m asleep, right?”

  This doesn’t feel like sleep.

  It feels too real.

  A lucid dream?

  My heart starts racing. Blood surges through me, violent and fast. My breath shortens. The world seems to pause, suspended for a single, stretched moment.

  Then everything collapses. The big bang is redone.

  Color floods my vision, too much, too fast. Red. Violet. Blue. Green. Black. White.

  White.

  White.

  WHITE.

  The light consumes everything.

  Pain follows.

  It doesn’t build. It doesn’t grow.

  It arrives complete.

  Total.

  As if my body is being stripped apart, layer by layer, while something burns beneath the surface. Every nerve screams at once, a chorus with no rhythm, no relief. Chaos does it's work on my surface.

  Time loses meaning.

  Seconds stretch.

  Moments fracture.

  It could have been minutes.

  It could have been forever.

  I scream, though I don’t know if any sound comes out. I call out to gods I don’t believe in, names that mean nothing, hoping something answers anyway.

  Nothing does.

  Only the pain remains.

  —

  Then—

  It stops.

  —

  I wake up.

  Everything is… slow.

  Muted.

  My thoughts feel distant, like they have to travel through something thick before they reach me. My body is heavy, unresponsive.

  There’s a strange warmth inside me.

  It is foreign to me. Something out of place.

  I drift again. Not into sleep, not entirely. Just enough to escape.

  —

  When I open my eyes again, the lecture is over.

  Students are packing up, voices low, movements casual. The room is warm, lined with oak shelves and crowded with books. It feels almost ancient, untouched by the world outside.

  I can barely move.

  My limbs respond sluggishly, as if they belong to someone else. Sweat clings to my skin. My heart is still unsteady.

  John nudges me.

  Pain spikes.

  I raise my hand slowly and give him a single, deliberate middle finger.

  He scoffs and leaves.

  Fuck him.

  —

  I fall asleep again.

  —

  When I wake, it’s night.

  9:00 PM.

  January 19th, 2131.

  Four hours gone.

  No one bothered to wake me. The room is quieter now, only a few students scattered around, using the space for their own purposes. It’s one of the few places that still feels Earthly. Real. No overwhelming tech. No artificial gloss.

  Just wood. Paper. Silence.

  I sit up slowly. My body aches, but it’s manageable now.

  I feel… off.

  I make my way out, taking care of basic things, trying to ground myself in routine.

  It doesn’t help.

  Something has changed.

  I can feel it.

  Subtle.

  But undeniable.

  —

  Apart from the pain…

  There’s one thing I’m certain of.

  I’ve been infected.