Chapter 2 Tangled Fates

I jolted awake, gasping for air, the remnants of my nightmare clinging to me like a heavy fog. The sharp, unfamiliar chill in the room made my skin prickle, as if the dream had seeped into the very walls of my bedroom. My heart hammered in my chest as I looked around, confused. It was still my room, but it felt foreign, as if I had just woken up in a place I didn't belong.

The clock on the wall blinked three o'clock. Three a.m. The number seemed too still, too cold, too deliberate in the darkness. I glanced at the window, wide open despite my certainty that I'd closed it before going to bed. The wind howled, pushing the curtains inward like long fingers reaching for me. A shiver ran through me as I crossed the room to close it, the cold floor beneath my feet a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bed I'd just abandoned. The night air hit my face, heavy with the promise of something I couldn't quite place.

"Calm down, Nena,"I muttered to myself, though my voice barely carried in the silence. I forced the window shut, the soft click of the latch louder than it should have been in the quiet room. But the unsettling feeling didn't leave, and neither did the strange sense that something was off, something just beyond my understanding.

I crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over my shoulders as if they could shield me from the dark thoughts swirling in my head. But sleep wouldn't come, not with the images of the dream still fresh in my mind. I had felt the presence of someone there, their hand reaching for me, but I couldn't see their face. My mind churned, trying to make sense of the lingering feeling of fear. Why had it felt so real?

With a frustrated sigh, I grabbed my phone, seeking a distraction. It was nearly time to get up anyway. The notification on the screen was from Vera, reminding me that today was the first day of class, the beginning of everything I'd been waiting for, yet dreading at the same time. The excitement I'd felt only days ago now seemed distant, replaced by the gnawing feeling in my stomach, the unsettling remnants of the dream and the strange chill that wouldn't leave.

I pushed myself out of bed and dragged myself through my morning routine, mechanically brushing my teeth, changing into my clothes, and applying just a touch of makeup. My reflection in the mirror seemed foreign, too-my own face, but somehow not mine. The girl staring back at me had a glint of unease in her eyes, a flicker of doubt that I didn't recognize.

The house was quiet when I left. My dad was away on another business trip, and my mom was too busy with his affairs to even notice I was gone. I stepped outside, feeling the cool autumn air bite at my skin. The day was supposed to be full of promise-new beginnings, new experiences-but I couldn't shake the sense that something was off, that I was walking into something I couldn't control.

As I made my way to the university, my thoughts wandered to Amer. He was in my class now, the one person I couldn't stop thinking about, the one who seemed to have an unsettling pull on me. Every time he was near, my chest tightened, my heart beat faster than normal, but not in the way it did when Samuel was around. No, with Amer, it was different, like something dark and dangerous, something I wasn't ready to face.

When I finally walked into the classroom, I saw him immediately. Tall, dark, and impossibly handsome, Amer entered just as the bell rang. He was dressed in black pants and a dark shirt, his hair hanging messily over his eyes, a faint beard on his chin. I couldn't tear my gaze away. My heart thudded in my chest, and I had to look away quickly, pretending to focus on the notebook in front of me.

I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready for him.

He walked to the desk beside me, his scent intoxicating-something deep, something dangerous. I tried to steady my breath as he sat down, but my hands felt cold as ice. I couldn't understand it. Why was I trembling? Why was he having this effect on me?

"Are you okay, Nena?" Amer's voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, a tone I couldn't quite decipher. His dark eyes searched mine, as if looking for something. His concern seemed too genuine, too disarming.

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" I couldn't help the sharpness in my voice, though it didn't quite come out as I intended. I wanted to snap at him, to demand why he was invading my space, but something in his gaze stopped me. He wasn't the enemy, not really.

"You're shaking," he said, and before I could react, his hand reached out to touch mine.

I froze. His skin was warm, but it sent a shock through me that was anything but comforting. My body instinctively pulled away, the movement sudden and harsh. I couldn't control it.

Amer seemed unfazed, his hand dropping back to his side. "Alright," he said with a small shrug, as if he hadn't just made my heart stop.

Before I could gather my thoughts, the teacher entered. Ms. Dora, tall and elegant, started her usual spiel, introducing the class and giving us our first assignment. I couldn't concentrate. All I could think about was the strange feeling that lingered after Amer's touch, the inexplicable tremor that still ran through my fingers. What was this? Why was it him? The class dragged on, but my mind kept wandering back to Amer. We were assigned to work in pairs, and I couldn't believe my bad luck when Ms. Dora paired us together. It felt like a cruel joke, a punishment for something I hadn't even done. Every word he spoke, every glance, made my heart race, but not in the way I wanted it to. It was as if he could see right through me, his presence suffocating in a way I couldn't explain.

I clenched my fists under the table, trying to ignore the tremble in my hands.

"Let's get this over with," I muttered, forcing myself to speak. I wanted to get the assignment done quickly, to escape this suffocating tension between us. "We can go to the library after class. Find some books on 15th-century literature."

Amer didn't even look at me when he replied, his voice cool and detached. "I'm busy today."

The rejection stung, but I couldn't show it. Not now. Not with him. "What do you mean, busy? We need to work together on this."

"I don't owe you an explanation," he said, his voice sharper now, a slight edge of irritation creeping in. "Do what you want. I'll help you later."

I gritted my teeth, fighting the anger bubbling inside me. "You' re impossible," I said under my breath, but he didn't react. It was like I wasn't even there, and it made my skin crawl.

After the class ended, I stormed out, barely waiting for Vera or Samuel. I didn't care where I was going, just that I had to get away from him. Away from the suffocating weight of his indifference.

Outside, the cool air didn't help to clear my head. My thoughts raced, tumbling over each other in a chaotic mess. I felt so... exposed, like he knew something about me that I didn't even understand yet.

I didn't want to go back. I didn't want to face him again, not after today. But of course, I had to. So, I went home, spent the evening aimlessly pacing around my room, trying to focus on anything other than the storm inside my head.

When the evening finally passed, the dream returned. It wasn't the same one, but it left me just as shaken. The fear was the same, the presence was the same, and once again, I woke up at three o'clock, the same time, the same icy cold room. Something was wrong, and I couldn't shake it.

I went through the motions the next day-getting up, getting ready, going to class-but it felt like I was moving through a fog, disconnected from everything around me. The eerie feeling of being watched lingered like a shadow, and when I walked into the cafeteria that afternoon, I couldn't ignore the sharp pain that shot through my foot.

I stumbled forward, and in slow motion, I saw the coffee cup fly out of my hand, the scalding liquid spilling across my chest. I heard the laughter before I even registered the pain, the humiliation. I stood frozen, holding the empty cup, coffee dripping down my front, a heavy silence hanging over me.

And then I heard it. The laugh.

Amer.

It made everything worse. His deep, mocking laughter echoed through the cafeteria, and I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, the tears welling in my eyes. Rebecca stood there, smirking as if it were all my fault.

"Watch where you're going," she sneered, but I couldn't bring myself to respond. The humiliation was suffocating.

Vera and Samuel came to my side, but I couldn't speak. I turned and left, the laughter following me out the door, the sting of their words like a thousand needles.

I didn't want to face the rest of the day. I didn't want to see Amer or anyone else. I wanted to disappear.

At home, I locked myself in my room. The stain on my shirt wouldn't come out, and I couldn't stop replaying the scene in my head. Rebecca's cruel laugh. Amer's mocking eyes.

I tried to distract myself by picking up my father's car keys. I knew it was wrong. I knew I shouldn't take the car, not at 17, not without a license. But the frustration, the anger inside me, had nowhere else to go.

I got in the car, not knowing where I was going, just needing to be somewhere, anywhere but here. The road stretched out in front of me, endless, empty. My phone buzzed relentlessly, but I ignored it. I couldn't deal with anyone, not now.

And then it happened. The sharp sound of impact. The screech of tires.

I hit someone.

I slammed the brakes, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The world seemed to tilt as I stared at the body in front of me. Blood. Too much blood.

I got out of the car, my hands trembling. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

The person on the ground-Amer.

His lifeless eyes stared up at me, and everything stopped. The world, my heart, the breath in my lungs-all stopped as I stood frozen in horror, the blood on my hands the only thing real.