For a few days, things felt almost normal.
No strange messages.
No tests.
No warnings.
I went to school.
I came back home.
I did homework.
And that scared me more than anything else.
Because the silence felt planned.
In class, I caught myself answering questions again.
Not showing off.
Just… answering.
My friend noticed.
"Since when did you become active?" he asked.
I shrugged.
"Since I got bored of being quiet."
He laughed.
"Good upgrade."
At lunch, I sat wherever there was space.
Not hiding.
Not trying to stand out.
Just sitting.
That evening, while doing homework, my phone buzzed.
I didn't pick it up immediately.
I finished the line I was writing.
Then I checked.
Unknown Number:
You are pretending again.
My fingers froze.
Pretending what?
The reply came slowly.
Unknown Number:
That this is normal.
I swallowed.
Isn't it?
A pause.
Then:
Unknown Number:
Normal is comfort. Growth is discomfort.
I sighed.
"So now I'm uncomfortable again?"
No reply.
Later that night, I opened my notebook.
I wrote about the quiet days.
About how calm felt heavy.
About how silence could still be loud.
Before sleeping, one final message appeared.
Unknown Number:
Tomorrow, someone will ask you a question.
I stared at the screen.
Who? I typed.
No reply.
I placed the phone down.
Almost normal days were ending.
I could feel it.