The sharp scent of chalk dust mixed with the faint noise of students chatting woke me slowly. I opened my eyes and immediately noticed the difference—my body felt lighter, smaller, younger. The wooden desk I sat at was scratched and worn, too low for my long limbs.
Around me, a dozen teenagers whispered in hushed voices, eyes darting between me and each other. Some leaned forward, watching with thinly veiled suspicion. Others exchanged worried glances.
"Look who's awake," a voice muttered nearby. I turned my head slightly and caught sight of a boy smirking from across the aisle. His dark eyes glittered with amusement and something sharper—fear, maybe?
"Don't let him near you," whispered a girl beside him, her voice low but urgent. "Neon's trouble."
The word "Neon" hung heavy in the air—like a curse or a warning. But I didn't understand. Who was Neon? Why did their name make everyone so tense?
I looked down at my hands. Smaller. Younger. Completely foreign.
A sudden jolt of panic hit me as flashes of memories I couldn't place flickered like broken film—faces I didn't know, places I'd never been. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs. I tried to swallow, but the dryness in my throat made it difficult.
The classroom fell silent as the teacher stepped in, his eyes narrowing when they landed on me.
"Neon," he said coldly, "This is not the place for distractions. Focus on the lesson."
The entire room seemed to shift—whispers stopping, eyes fixed firmly on me.
I tried to say something, anything, but my voice felt weak and strange. The name "Neon" tasted bitter on my tongue, like I was swallowing someone else's identity.
A boy from the back muttered, "Watch out… He's not just a bully. He's dangerous."
The warning sent a shiver down my spine.
I wanted to stand up and scream, "I'm not him! I don't know any of this!" But my legs refused to move.
My reflection from a window caught my eye—a teenage boy with sharp features and dark hair looked back at me. The boy from the mirror in the hospital, the strange body I was trapped inside.
I was trapped.
Not just in this body, but in a life I didn't understand.
The bell rang, breaking the heavy silence. Students gathered their things, whispering as they moved around me like I was a storm waiting to explode.
I sat frozen, unsure what was real anymore.
Was this a nightmare? Or my new reality?
And if this was Neon's life—what had he done to deserve this reputation?