The gray morning light barely pierced through the curtains when Miria opened her eyes, her heart pounding. That dream again. That faceless man again. She let out a shaky sigh, trying to chase away the shivers running down her spine. Every night, it was the same. And each time, she woke up with that feeling of dread clinging to her skin.
Slowly sitting up, she got out of bed, her legs still numb from restless sleep. She mechanically got ready for school, trying to forget these recurring dreams, but they haunted her. When she was ready, she left the house, carefully locked the door, and headed for the bus stop.
Arriving at the stop, she found herself waiting... for the voices. The ones that had been with her for some time, whispering in her mind. But nothing. Silence. She breathed, relieved. Was it finally over?
But she'd barely boarded the bus when a sharp pain stabbed through her head. The voices returned, louder, more insistent. She held her head, trying not to panic. A passenger, a young man with soft features and a worried look, noticed her. He approached and gently touched her shoulder.
"Is everything all right, miss?"
Miria turned to him, surprised by the softness of his voice and by his face, which she didn't recognize.
"No... I'm fine," she said weakly.
"Are you sure?" he insisted, genuinely concerned.
"Yes," she replied a little more firmly.
He nodded and returned to his seat. But as he walked away, Miria thought she heard him thinking, "What's wrong with her? Such a pretty girl with such problems, why?" In any case, I like her. I'd like to be her friend... or even more.
"What?" she cried in spite of herself.
The young man turned around, surprised.
"What?"
"Did you say something?"
He frowned, a little confused.
"No... No, not at all."
Miria blinked. She could have sworn he'd spoken. Flustered, she looked away.
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
"No, nothing. I'll sit down," she replied, moving away, looking for an empty seat.
The young man followed her with his eyes, intrigued.