The warning
Leon Hart hated silence.
Not because it was lonely.
Because silence always gave him time to think.
The old ceiling fan rotated above his bed with an irritating metallic click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
2:17 A.M.
Leon stared at the ceiling without blinking.
Sleep refused to come.
Again.
The apartment was quiet except for the occasional sound of passing cars outside.
His mother was asleep.
His father was probably drunk.
His little brother Ethan was dreaming about something innocent.
Something normal.
Something Leon had forgotten how to do years ago.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes.
Another sleepless night.
Another endless battle with his own thoughts.
The room felt smaller than usual.
The walls felt closer.
The air felt heavier.
Leon stood and walked toward his desk.
School books.
Messy notes.
Half-finished assignments.
Nothing unusual.
Until he noticed the notebook.
A black notebook.
The one he always used.
The one he had left closed before going to bed.
His eyes narrowed.
It was open.
Leon frowned.
Slowly he approached it.
A strange feeling crawled through his chest.
The notebook lay open on a blank page.
Or at least...
It should have been blank.
Instead, a sentence was written across it.
Written in his handwriting.
Perfectly.
Neatly.
As if he had written it himself.
Leon stared.
The sentence read:
Don't trust tomorrow.
The room suddenly felt colder.
His heart skipped a beat.
For several seconds he simply stood there.
Reading.
Rereading.
Trying to remember.
Nothing.
No memory.
No explanation.
No reason.
His fingers trembled slightly as he touched the page.
The ink was fresh.
Recently written.
Very recently.
Leon searched his memory.
Nothing.
He couldn't remember writing it.
He couldn't remember opening the notebook.
He couldn't remember anything after midnight.
A laugh escaped him.
A nervous one.
"Very funny."
Nobody answered.
Of course nobody answered.
He lived with three other people.
None of them would sneak into his room at two in the morning to write cryptic messages.
Especially not in his handwriting.
Leon ripped the page out.
Crumpled it.
Threw it into the trash.
Problem solved.
At least that's what he told himself.
But his chest remained tight.
Because deep down...
He knew something wasn't right.
The next morning began like every other morning.
With shouting.
"Daniel!"
His mother's voice echoed through the apartment.
"What?"
"You promised you wouldn't drink on weekdays!"
"I had one bottle!"
"Three!"
"One!"
"Three!"
Leon sighed.
Same argument.
Different day.
He grabbed his backpack and headed toward the kitchen.
His father sat at the table.
His mother stood nearby with crossed arms.
Neither noticed him.
Neither noticed Ethan either.
The younger boy sat quietly eating breakfast while pretending not to hear the fight.
Leon pulled out a chair and sat beside him.
Ethan smiled.
A genuine smile.
The kind Leon couldn't understand.
"Morning, bro."
"Morning."
"You look tired."
"I am."
"You should sleep more."
Leon almost laughed.
"Brilliant advice."
Ethan grinned.
Their mother finally noticed them.
The argument immediately stopped.
Like someone had pressed pause.
A familiar silence replaced it.
An uncomfortable one.
The kind families create when they don't know how to fix themselves.
Leon hated that silence even more.
School wasn't much better.
Classes blurred together.
Teachers talked.
Students laughed.
Time moved.
Leon existed.
That was all.
Until lunch.
Until Maya sat across from him.
"You're staring into space again."
Leon looked up.
Maya smiled.
Annoyingly.
"You always do that."
"Maybe space is interesting."
"Maybe you're weird."
"Maybe."
She laughed.
A real laugh.
The kind that made people around her laugh too.
Leon never understood how she did that.
Maya could walk into a room and somehow make everything feel lighter.
Leon walked into a room and somehow made everything feel heavier.
"Did you finish the assignment?" she asked.
"No."
"Why?"
"I forgot."
"Impossible."
Leon opened his mouth to reply.
Then stopped.
Forgot.
The word hit harder than it should have.
Forgot.
For a split second, the notebook flashed in his mind.
Don't trust tomorrow.
His stomach twisted.
"Leon?"
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
"I'm still alive."
"That's not the same thing."
He didn't answer.
Because she was right.
That evening, rain covered the city.
Heavy rain.
The kind that turned streets into mirrors.
Leon walked home alone.
Headphones on.
Music loud.
Thoughts louder.
By the time he reached the apartment building, the rain had soaked through his jacket.
The elevator was broken again.
Of course it was.
He climbed the stairs.
Fourth floor.
Breathing heavily.
Tired.
Exhausted.
Done.
When he reached the apartment door, he froze.
Someone had written on it.
A sentence.
In black marker.
The words looked fresh.
Recently written.
His heartbeat accelerated.
The message read:
You ignored the warning.
Leon stared.
His entire body went cold.
The handwriting looked familiar.
Terrifyingly familiar.
His own.
The rain continued outside.
Thunder echoed in the distance.
And for the first time in his life...
Leon Hart felt genuinely afraid.
End of Chapter 1.
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