Beep! Beep!
The piercing sound of my alarm dragged me from sleep. I groaned and fumbled blindly for the off button, finally silencing the noise. My head felt heavy, my eyes half-closed, and my body protested every movement as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
"Ugh," I muttered, rubbing at the sleep crust in my eyes.
I slowly made my way to the bathroom, yawning and stretching, barely noticing the faint light of morning spilling through my window. By the time I shuffled down the stairs, still half asleep, the smell of breakfast hit my nose. Something about it should have been comforting, but my stomach twisted with a vague unease.
I stepped into the kitchen.
At first, I thought I saw my mother standing at the stove, smiling pleasantly as she stirred the frying pan. A small part of me relaxed. It was the same morning routine I had known my whole life. But then I noticed something was off.
The figure was taller than my mother had ever been, impossibly thin, with long, unnatural limbs. Its head tilted slightly as it moved, and that familiar smile was plastered on its face like a mask that did not belong there. My stomach turned over as I realized the horror of what I was seeing. It was wearing my mother's face, but it was not my mother.
I froze.
I could not look directly at it for long. My body wanted to run, but I forced myself to sit down at the table and began eating the food that had been set in front of me. My hands shook slightly, and I had to swallow fast to keep from gagging. The eggs were overcooked, the toast slightly burnt, but I could barely taste them.
My mind drifted back over the past month. I had once been just like any normal teenage boy, maybe a little taller than most, slightly clumsy and endlessly distracted. But everything had changed when I woke up one morning to find that there were creatures among us, hiding in plain sight. Creatures wearing human faces, walking, talking, laughing, pretending to be someone we loved. It was something out of a nightmare, but it was real. And now I could not go back to the life I had known.
"Is everything okay, honey?"
The voice rang out again, melodious and perfectly pitched, the same as it had always been. I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth, my stomach twisting. When I looked up, the smile was still there. The face was still hers. But the body was wrong. Too thin, too tall, too… not right.
Quickly, I forced the food down, chewing fast to cover my nausea. "Yeah, everything is fine. I just stayed up a bit late," I said. My voice sounded small and weak, even to my own ears.
"Hmm, okay," she said, still keeping that unnerving smile. It was a smile I used to find comforting, something I had taken for granted before the world turned into a place where nothing could be trusted.
I finished the last of the toast as quickly as I could, swallowing it down without tasting it. I did not dare make eye contact again. I grabbed my backpack and practically sprinted out the door, not wanting to linger another second in the presence of whatever that thing was. My legs felt heavy, but adrenaline pushed me forward, carrying me down the steps and out into the cool morning air.
Even as I ran, my mind replayed the scene over and over. The way the face of my mother had been stretched over that wrong body. The way it had smiled at me like nothing was wrong. The thought of it made my stomach knot again.
For the first time in a long time, I realized how alone I really was. Everyone I had trusted, everyone I had loved, could be gone or replaced. The world I thought I knew was no longer real.
Those things were slowly replacing us. Mum had been a normal person until last week, until the day I came home and found that thing standing in our kitchen, wearing her face like it was hers. The sight made my stomach twist and my hands shake, but there was nothing I could do at the time. I had just frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe properly. The smile on its face was too familiar, too wrong. That one moment changed everything.
Shivering slightly, I forced myself to keep walking toward school, keeping my head down and my eyes focused on the ground. I tried not to look around too much. Looking around could draw their attention, and I had already learned that those things noticed when you stared, when you hesitated. Every step I took felt heavy, but I had to move. I could not let fear stop me completely, not yet.
My hand brushed against the small knife I had started carrying around in my pocket. Its cold metal comforted me slightly. It was nothing compared to what I might need, but holding it made me feel like I had some control, even if only a little. I adjusted my grip a few times as I walked, making sure it was still there, still within reach. The sound of my shoes against the pavement was loud in my ears, but I forced myself to focus on the rhythm, on the steps, on staying calm.
After what felt like forever, I finally arrived at the school. The building loomed above me, gray and familiar, but it had lost its comfort. I slowed my pace slightly to glance at the students around me. None of them seemed wrong. None of them had been taken over by those monsters. It was clear they did not bother with young people, only adults, those who had finished growing. That knowledge was the only small relief I had as I stepped through the gates and into the halls.
Arriving in my classroom, I saw that the teacher was already there, looking over their lesson notes with a calm, normal expression. I walked quickly to my desk, the one right by the door. It had become my habit to sit there in case something happened. I needed to be ready, even if nothing happened.
Another thing I had noticed over the past month was that every teacher was one of those things. Those bodies that don't fit the faces plastered on their heads, the way they watched us. It was as if they wanted to oversee our education, to make sure we were all learning, all growing, while hiding what they really were.
I settled into my chair, trying to calm the tension in my body, keeping my hand close to the knife in my pocket.