Lioron

You live in an ordinary apartment on the outskirts of the city—an old building, creaky floors, noisy neighbors. In the morning, you study, grab a coffee on the run, and put on headphones to shut out the world. In the evening, you walk home and feel like the days are repeating themselves.

You don't like to attract attention. Your life is quiet, almost unnoticeable.

It all started with a message.
"You're late again today."

You didn't pay attention. A mistake. But then another one came:
"The blue scarf suits you better than the black one."

You froze - this is exactly what you put on this morning.

The number of messages grew:
"You always take your coffee without sugar, but today you added it. Why?"
"You were standing at the bus stop for a long time. Are you cold?"

It's become scary. You look around more and more often, searching for someone among the passersby, looking at the reflections in shop windows.

You write, "Who are you?" but there's silence in response. Only new messages.

You start closing the curtains earlier and checking the door several times.

And one evening the phone lights up again.

New message. You hesitate for a long time, but then click it.

"Don't turn around. I don't want you to see me."