1. White eyes
chapter one 

FRIDAY
03:00 am

The digital numbers of the clock illuminated the darkness with their constant red LED light. The curtain fluttered as the wind passed by the third floor of the apartment complex. As it did, the dim light from outside stretched into the bedroom and pushed the shadows into the corners.

Jake sighed and pushed himself up from the warm pillow. His legs bent beneath him as he sat up on the bed, and the cover fell around him. He rolled his shoulders and heard them crack, disturbing the silence around him. He pulled at the old T-shirt to get some air between it and his skin, but as soon as he let go, it stuck to his sweaty back again. He massaged his neck as he hunched forward and stared down at the dark covers between his legs.

His shoulder-length hair fell like a golden drape around his head. His fingers continued rubbing his neck, slowly moving up to his temples and onto his aching forehead. He felt the deep frown and pressed against it with his thumbs. He wished he could just relax.

Between his fingers, he saw the red numbers:
03:19

He closed his eyes and hid his face in his hands as his shoulders lifted toward his ears. He could feel the faint beating of his heart. His eyes drifted to the clock again and didn’t blink until it changed.
03:20

In the distance, he heard a door close. It was impossible to say whether it was from his staircase or the neighboring one. The familiar thundering of heavy traffic reached his ears, and his thoughts drifted toward it—the highway that stretched across the country. The far-reaching asphalt river. It held so much promise.

His fingers twitched, and he tried to stretch his stiff neck. He heard a crack somewhere behind his ear. Without thinking, he reached his hand behind him and grabbed the phone with trembling fingers. The screen lit up at his touch, illuminating the entire room. Jake frowned and quickly turned the brightness down.

He hesitated, but his thumb moved anyway. It found the text from his mother and opened it. He had lost track of how often he had done that. Sometimes not even reading the words—just staring at them.

Hi Jake,
I hope you are doing well. I know you are busy, but I wanted to let you know that your brothers funeral is on Friday at 13:00.
I hope you can make it, but I understand if you cannot.
We would like to see you there.
Love, Mum.

Jake took a deep breath and watched as the screen shut itself off. He continued to stare as the darkness surrounded him. The curtain swayed, and the clock changed numbers. He let the phone slide out of his hand and onto the cover. He leaned forward and closed his eyes as the familiar ache in his shoulder began. He grunted and massaged it absentmindedly with his hand. The pulsing followed the rhythm of his heart, moved up through his neck, and into his mind. The muscles around his ears sent out a shuddering sound that enclosed him in a thundering bubble.

He sank back into the pillow and pulled the cover over his chest. Placing his hands over his heart. It was hammering hard against his chest. He took a deep breath and tried to count quietly to himself, but the echo behind his ears disturbed him. He turned to the side, pressed the pillow against his shoulder, and pulled the cover up to his chin. He stayed perfectly still. Eyes closed. Breathing.

He yawned.
His eyes opened and he turned his head to look at the red numbers.
03:35

Was it mocking him? He turned back and closed his eyes, but only a few heartbeats later they opened again, staring into the corner where the outside light crept in. He yawned again, turned over, pulled the cover in close, and hugged himself. He stared into the darkness.

Two white eyes stared back.

Jake blinked and sat up straight. The cover fell around him, and he heard the pillow drop to the floor.
The corner where the eyes had been was empty.

05:46