The mind clings to normalcy as a reflex, smoothing over inconsistencies to preserve the illusion of continuity. A person who has lost days of memory doesn't wake in panic; they follow their routine—brushing teeth, making coffee, checking their phone—because nothing demands alarm. The absence isn't a wound, but a void. As long as reality holds its shape, the mind insists all is well.
Yet, subtle betrayals lurk—a hesitation before a mirror, an unfamiliar scent, a lingering gaze. These ripples are ignored because acknowledging them might unravel everything. People don't believe in normalcy because it exists, but because the alternative is unthinkable.
Elyse had always known her brother was weird. Not only in the embarrassing, mom-please-make-him-stop kind of way, but in also the he sees things differently kind of way. Jason never talked about it, but she could tell—the way he zoned out mid-conversation, the way he noticed things: a flicker of hesitation, the half-second delay before someone forced a smile.
But lately, his weirdness had shifted.
It started small. His movements—too precise, too efficient. He caught objects mid-air before they could fall. He lifted Jay with ease despite the dog's stubborn squirming. And then there was the way he looked at his reflection.
The first time Elyse noticed, she dismissed it.
Now, standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, she watched Jason lean against the counter, scrolling through his phone like nothing was wrong. No bruises. No limp. No sign that he had run into a burning building.
She had been late in knowing. But now she knew.
She let the spoon drop into the pot with a loud clatter. Enough.
"What the hell is going on with you?"
Jason looked up, blinking. "Huh?"
"Don't huh me."
His gaze held hers, heavy, considering. It was a look she recognized—the one that meant he was deciding how much to tell her.
"Look," he said finally, setting his phone down. "It's… complicated."
"Try me."
Jason exhaled. "I don't—I don't know, okay? And you are not adult enough for me to say this."
Elyse narrowed her eyes. Then, without hesitation, she swung. Her fist missed his face but smacked his shoulder. Hard.
Jason recoiled. "Ow! What the hell?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the Grand Keeper of Cosmic Secrets." She crossed her arms. "You wanna try that again without the I'm so mature act?"
Jason scowled, rubbing his shoulder. "You hit me."
"Damn right, I did." Elyse stepped closer.
"Don't do that. Don't act like I'm too young or too stupid to understand.
You're scared—I can see it. So just tell me, because whatever this is? You shouldn't be dealing with it alone."
Jason held her gaze, jaw tight. Then he exhaled and looked away.
Elyse pressed forward. "Fine. Then I'll just start investigating. Call Arnon. Call Mom. Maybe I'll start a thread: Help, my brother is acting like a supernatural assassin—what do I do?"
Jason groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "God, I hate you."
Elyse smirked. "Nah, you love me. Now spill."
She wasn't sure what answer she expected.
Jason hesitated, then said, "I don't know myself, but something weird is happening around me."
Her eyes flicked down—his fingers tapped against the counter.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Like a clock winding down.
"You're lying," she said quietly.
Jason flinched. "I'm not—"
"Not completely. But you're holding something back."
Before she could press further, Jay's ears perked. His head snapped toward the hallway, a low growl rumbling from his throat.
Jason stiffened.
Elyse turned. The hallway stretched empty before her. No movement. No sound.
Jay's growl deepened.
Jason exhaled. "Go check on the stove."
Elyse frowned. "You serious?"
Jason gave her a pointed look. "Now, Elyse."
Still scowling, she turned toward the kitchen, grumbling under her breath.
---
Elyse turned off the stove, irritation still simmering. She grabbed a glass of water, took a slow sip, then set it down with a sharp clink.
Something felt… off.
Jay wasn't barking anymore.
The apartment was too quiet.
She walked back toward the hallway—then stopped abruptly.
Her breath caught.
The mirror.
It was shattered.
Glass glittered across the floor, sharp and jagged, reflecting dim light. The frame stood empty, a mouth stripped of its teeth.
She turned sharply. "Jason!"
No response.
She stormed into the living room. Jason sat at the counter, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened. His fingers tapped against the surface in that same steady, unconscious rhythm.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Elyse stared. "Are you kidding me?"
Jason glanced up. "What?"
She gestured wildly toward the hallway. "The mirror is broken. When the hell did that happen?"
Jason's expression didn't shift. "I don't know."
"Bullshit." She folded her arms. "I was gone for five minutes. You expect me to believe you just missed a whole-ass mirror exploding?"
Jason exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I didn't miss anything. I just… I don't know how it happened."
Elyse narrowed her eyes. "Did you hear anything?"
Jason hesitated. His fingers tapped once. Twice.
Then—"No."
"You're lying again," she said, softer this time.
Jason looked away.
A tense silence settled between them.
Jay whined softly, pressing against Jason's leg.
Elyse exhaled. "Come on. Let's walk."
Jason frowned. "Walk?"
"The way we usually do. To calm our nerves."
He studied her, then sighed. "Fine."
---
The cool night air pressed against their skin as they walked in silence. Elyse shoved her hands into her hoodie pocket, processing everything.
Jason let out a slow breath. "Okay," he muttered. "This hasn't exactly been the relaxing experience I was hoping for. You know, with the weird guy hitting me and mysterious bang sounds in the distance."
Elyse shot him a dry look. "Oh, really? Was it the mirror explosion that soothed your nerves?"
Jason smirked. "No, it was the part where something hit me in the face with a chunk of glass. Very therapeutic."
Elyse rolled her eyes. "Fine. Uh… So, a guy walks into a temple, a mosque, and a church—"
Jason groaned. "Oh, we're going there?"
Elyse grinned. "And he says, 'I'd like a blessing, an exorcism, and maybe a warranty extension on my soul, please.'"
Jason snorted. "Not bad."
For now, the humor held.