I was sleeping deeply, but that dream or nightmare tore me from my rest. My chest ached from an inexplicable pressure, a chill running through my entire body. What the hell was that?

  My hands trembled as I tried to calm myself and process what had happened. That voice... I was certain I'd heard it before, but where? I didn't have time to think about it. Damn it, the alarm! The bus is about to arrive... I can't miss it. But first, I need a shower. Yes, that first, even if it's quick.

  I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn't help imagining what Sister Carmila would say: "You're not ready to live alone!" My skin, always pale, seemed almost transparent under the dim daylight, and my hair, dark and straight, rarely stayed in place—much like my life. My eyes, which doctors would normally call heterochromia, the sisters would see as a blessing from heaven, and my friends, simply another detail that wasn't consistent in my day-to-day.

  I feel like this uniform doesn't fit me anymore; I'm getting thinner and thinner. When was the last time I ate three meals? Ah, right! It was when I decided that living alone would be a great idea and that Sister Carmila wouldn't have to take care of me. She worries so much about me, I shouldn't break my word to her. My stomach was growling, almost protesting, but at least I managed to shower quickly.

  But just as I opened the refrigerator, the horn of the approaching bus put me on alert. I couldn't miss it! I slammed everything shut, grabbed my backpack and ran out, almost forgetting my shoes. Hunger could wait; what couldn't, was that bus. As I ran toward it, I felt my pulse throbbing in my ears.

  I couldn't stop thinking about that voice, though I clung to the idea of ignoring it. It couldn't be the center of my day, not now. "Thank God, at least I managed to get on! I won't be late and, best of all, I got a seat to myself! At some stops Anais will get on. God, I hope she brings something for breakfast on the way, I'm starving!"

  As the bus continued its routine journey, stopping at every corner with the rhythmic noise of the engine and my classmates' laughter filling the air, that voice was still there. Something about it wouldn't leave me in peace, like a shadow that refused to fade. I shook my head forcefully, trying to clear the thought, but the echo was persistent, like an off-key melody trapped in my mind.

  The voice wouldn't leave me alone; it was a presence clinging to my mind and, despite my efforts to clear it, the echo persisted. I couldn't stop to think about it anymore. I decided to pull out my phone and watch something to distract myself—the usual, some story or some reel, anything that would distract me.

  "Come on! Turn on!" I whispered, pressing the button with a desperation I didn't expect to feel.

  A blackout during the night? Maybe. That would explain everything: the alarm and the dead phone.

  When it finally turned on, I felt an almost childlike joy, like the first time I'd had my own phone. Letting it start up while I finished waking up, looking out the window. The landscape of Rome stretched before me: ancient streets filled with cobblestones, balconies dotted with flowers swaying gently in the wind, and the vibrant murmur of the city that seemed to come alive. I clung to that view, letting it fill the space in my mind where that voice insisted on remaining. However, at a wide intersection, something different caught my attention.

  It was a group of people gathered in a circle, holding signs with messages of strength and desperation. "Cease fire!", "Peace for our children" and "No more wars" were some of the phrases rising in large black letters on white cardboard. The energy of the protest was palpable even from the bus: faces full of passion, united voices breaking through the daily bustle of the city. There was something deeply human and heartbreaking about it, a reminder of the conflicts that seemed to burn with increasing intensity in different corners of the world.

  I couldn't look away. The shouts and chants of the people seemed to resonate in my chest, mixed with the persistent echo of that voice in my mind, as if that gave it strength, making its intensity increase in my mind. I decided to look away at my phone, which was now fully powered on. With a sigh, I began to swipe my finger across the screen, looking for something that could distract me from everything. However, the screen reacted strangely. For a moment, the touchscreen seemed to fail: applications opened and closed on their own, and interference lines flickered as if the phone were about to break down.

  I frowned, tapping the screen lightly with my finger. "Come on, not again, please, you need to last at least one more year," I murmured. Just when I was about to turn it off and on again, everything returned to normal. But what appeared before me was anything but normal.

  A video began to play. I hadn't selected it, and I didn't remember having seen it before. The image was dark, almost impossible to decipher, but some letters appeared slowly, as if they were being handwritten on an invisible parchment: "???? ????? ?????". My breathing stopped. Those letters... I had seen them before. It was Aramaic, I'm sure. Sister Carmila had shown it to us in class, while talking about the lost and forbidden texts of the church.

  A chill ran down my spine. The letters seemed to flicker, like faint flames about to be extinguished, while something in my mind tried to translate them. But before I could understand even a single word, the screen suddenly went dark.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  "What... what was that?" I whispered, feeling my heart pounding hard.

  I unlocked the phone again and opened the app, searching for the strange video. But it wasn't there. It had disappeared completely, as if it had never existed.

  Before I could process what had just happened, the bus stopped with a screech in front of one of the stops. I looked up and saw Anais getting on with her eternal smile and that contagious energy that filled the space. Her red hair reflected the sunlight coming through the windows. She always attracted attention, though she seemed not to notice. Her green eyes sparkled with a seemingly inexhaustible spark as she met me with her carefree smile.

  "Finally!" she said, dropping into the seat next to me as if it were the most comfortable place in the world.

  For an instant, her presence managed to clear away some of the unease that had been surrounding me since that vision on the phone. Honestly, she always managed to give me that encouragement I needed to keep going.

  Anais let out a sigh as she looked out the window, as if searching for something beyond the urban landscape parading before our eyes.

  "You look tired," she said, turning toward me with that gaze that always managed to pierce through my walls. "Another one of those sleepless nights?"

  I didn't respond immediately, just shrugged my shoulders while playing with the strap of my backpack. I knew her questions came from a place of concern, but I wasn't ready to talk about what was really happening to me.

  "Well," she continued, giving me a gentle nudge on the arm, "if you need a distraction, I'm here. We can laugh about how Sister Margot confuses my name again. Do you think today she'll call me Anita or Amelia?"

  I couldn't help but smile. Her ability to soften any tense moment was incredible.

  "Probably something worse," I replied, my voice a bit lighter thanks to her.

  "Exactly, and you'll be there to be my accomplice and hold back the laughter, right?" Anais looked at me with those green eyes shining with complicity, and for a moment, the weight I was carrying seemed less overwhelming.

  As we approached the school, I always observed its strange facade. An old Roman church converted into an academic building, where the sacred intertwines with the modern. The carved stone walls still held the solemnity of a past that cannot detach itself from the present. The main gate, with its intricate engravings, opened to receive us each day.

  The day passed without incident, routine enveloping everything like a thick fog. I found myself wandering in my thoughts, inside the classroom; the murmur of my classmates mixed with Sister Carmila's words, which circled in the air without finding a place in my mind. Suddenly, I heard it: a small scream, barely a whisper, but enough to pull me from my reverie. It was the same heartrending sound from the dream, like an echo come from the deepest depths. My heart leaped, and I froze in my seat.

  "Laira, what do you think of the idea?" Sister Carmila's voice cut through the fog in my head.

  It took me a second too long to realize she was talking to me. Embarrassed, I nodded quickly, forcing a nervous smile.

  "Yes... it would be a great idea," I replied, without really knowing what I was committing to.

  My classmates seemed to get excited instantly, and the words "field trip" and "unknown place" reached my ears like fragments of a conversation I hadn't heard.

  The recess bell echoed through the hallways, and while the others ran toward the courtyard, I felt Sister Carmila's gaze settle on me. Her voice, always soft but firm, stopped me before I could follow my classmates.

  "Laira, can you stay for a moment? I'd like to talk to you," tilting her head slightly in a gesture that was impossible to ignore.

  I nodded, trying not to show nervousness. We walked toward one of the benches by the windows, where the sun's rays illuminated the ancient walls.

  "How have you been feeling lately?" she asked, with a sweetness in her voice that made my chest tighten. "I know these years haven't been easy for you. The church did everything possible to give you a place to be, even to somehow compensate for what happened, but I don't want you to feel like you're alone."

  "I'm fine, Sister," I replied, lowering my gaze. Lying was never my strong suit, but I didn't want to worry her. "It's just that... sometimes I can't sleep."

  "It's normal to feel that way, especially in times like these, where everything seems tinged with negativity," she said, placing a comforting hand over mine. "The world is full of uncertainty, but you shouldn't carry everything alone. Before sleeping, pray. Ask the Lord for clarity, Laira. He always listens, even when we believe we're furthest from Him."

  I nodded slowly, not because I didn't believe her words, but because I didn't know how to explain the weight I felt. At times I've felt as if a higher force accompanies me in my dark moments; even so, her gaze was so understanding that, even though I said nothing more, I felt a slight comfort, a reminder that this option should be a priority in my life.

  "Thank you, Sister," I murmured, trying to sketch a smile.

  "Good. Now go and enjoy recess. And remember, if you need to talk, I'll always be here."

  Her words echoed in my mind as I went out to the courtyard, looking for Anais among the crowd. Sometimes, all I needed was to see her smile for everything to seem a bit more bearable.