Chapter 4: Trying to Stay Sane
The pen hovered above the page for a long time.
Loki sat at his desk, staring at the empty notebook in front of him. The room was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that made every small sound feel louder than it should.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The clock on the wall.
He exhaled slowly.
"…This is stupid."
And yet—
He didn't put the pen down.
Instead, he lowered it.
---
Day 1
I saw it again.
---
He stopped.
The words looked wrong.
Out of place.
Like they didn't belong there.
Like he didn't belong here.
His grip on the pen tightened slightly.
---
Not sure what it is.
Not sure if it's real.
But it feels real.
---
He leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on what he had just written.
"…Yeah."
Saying it out loud made it worse.
Real.
That word again.
He closed the notebook and pushed it slightly away, like creating distance would somehow make the problem smaller.
It didn't.
---
Hours later, he sat in front of his computer.
The screen glowed softly in the dark room, illuminating his tired face.
His fingers rested on the keyboard.
Then slowly—
He started typing.
"Seeing things that aren't there."
Enter.
Dozens of results appeared instantly.
Stress.
Fatigue.
Hallucinations.
Sleep deprivation.
Loki scrolled.
Article after article.
Forum posts.
Medical explanations.
None of them felt right.
"…So I'm just losing my mind?"
He let out a dry laugh.
"That's it?"
It sounded too simple.
Too easy.
Too… normal.
But nothing about this felt normal.
He leaned back, running a hand over his face.
"I'm just tired."
He repeated it again.
Like saying it enough times would make it true.
---
The next few days were…
Normal.
Suspiciously normal.
He woke up.
Went to work.
Came back home.
Ate. Slept.
Nothing happened.
No shadows.
No presence.
No strange reflections.
Nothing.
And that—
That was worse.
Loki stood in the middle of his kitchen one morning, staring at nothing.
"…So that's it?"
He frowned.
"Was I really just imagining everything?"
The thought made his chest tighten.
If it was all in his head—
Then what did that say about him?
He clenched his jaw.
"…No."
It didn't feel like imagination.
It never did.
---
That night—
He wrote again.
---
Day 3
Nothing happened today.
---
He stared at the words.
Then added:
---
And that's the worst part.
---
He closed the notebook slowly.
---
Sleep didn't help.
If anything, it made things worse.
Sometimes, he dreamed.
Darkness.
Endless space.
And that same presence.
Watching.
Always watching.
And sometimes—
It spoke.
Not in words.
Not clearly.
But he could feel it.
Trying.
Reaching.
"…What are you…"
He whispered once, in the middle of a dream.
No answer came.
Only silence.
And those eyes.
---
He woke up gasping again.
Every time.
---
Days passed.
Work didn't stop.
Life didn't stop.
Even if he wanted it to.
Loki stood on the construction site, lifting another heavy load. His body moved automatically, trained by routine.
But his mind—
Was somewhere else.
He glanced over his shoulder.
Nothing.
"…Focus."
He muttered under his breath.
But it didn't work.
It never did.
Even when nothing happened—
He felt it.
Like something was there.
Just out of sight.
Waiting.
---
By the time he finished work that day, he was exhausted.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Drained.
Empty.
---
The store was bright as always.
Too bright.
Too normal.
Loki grabbed a basket, walking slowly between the aisles.
Milk.
Bread.
Something easy to make.
Routine.
Always routine.
"Yo."
The voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
Loki looked up.
Alex.
Same guy as before.
Same relaxed posture.
Same stupid grin.
"Didn't expect to run into you again," Alex said, holding a couple of beers in one hand.
"…Yeah."
Loki replied quietly.
Alex tilted his head slightly.
"You look like shit."
"…Thanks."
"I'm serious. You good?"
There was a pause.
Loki hesitated.
For just a second.
"…Yeah."
Lie.
But easier.
Alex studied him for a moment longer.
Then shrugged.
"Aight, your funeral."
Loki almost smirked.
Almost.
---
They stood there in silence for a moment.
Then Alex spoke again.
"So."
Loki glanced at him.
"So?"
"There's a party tomorrow. Or maybe the day after, depends. Some friends are setting it up."
Loki blinked.
"…And?"
"And you're coming."
"…No."
Alex laughed immediately.
"Yeah, you are."
"I'm not really—"
"Bro," Alex cut him off, "you look like you haven't slept in a week. You either come out, or you're gonna lose your mind."
That hit a bit too close.
Loki frowned slightly.
"I'm fine."
"Sure you are."
Another pause.
Short.
Heavy.
Loki looked away.
He was tired.
So damn tired.
Of everything.
The silence.
The thoughts.
The feeling.
"…What time?"
Alex grinned.
"There it is."
---
Loki sighed quietly.
"…I'll think about it."
"Yeah, yeah. That means yes."
---
They paid and walked out together.
The air outside was cooler.
Refreshing.
For a moment—
Things felt… normal.
---
"Seriously though," Alex said, stretching slightly, "you need to relax."
Loki glanced at him.
"Yeah."
"Come drink, talk, meet people. Stop acting like a ghost."
"…A ghost, huh."
Alex laughed.
"Yeah. You're there, but not really."
Loki didn't respond.
Because—
That didn't feel wrong.
---
They parted ways shortly after.
"Don't disappear," Alex called out.
"…I won't."
Loki replied.
---
Back home.
Silence again.
Same as always.
He placed the groceries down slowly, his movements almost mechanical.
Then—
He froze.
That feeling.
Back again.
Stronger.
Closer.
His eyes moved slightly.
To the side.
The reflection in the window.
For a second—
He thought he saw something.
Standing behind him.
Watching.
His breath stopped.
He turned.
Nothing.
Empty room.
"…I'm done with this."
His voice was sharper now.
More frustrated than scared.
He grabbed the notebook again.
Opened it.
---
Day 5
It came back.
---
His hand trembled slightly.
---
I know it's real.
---
He stared at the page.
Then added one more line.
---
And I think… it's watching me.
---
The pen dropped onto the desk.
Silence filled the room once more.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Unavoidable.
---
Loki leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
"…Party, huh…"
The thought felt distant.
Unimportant.
And yet—
Maybe that's exactly what he needed.
Something normal.
Something real.
Something—
Human.
---
But deep down—
He knew.
No matter where he went.
No matter what he did.
---
It would still be there.
Watching.
Waiting.
For something.
For him.