form the ceiling

I finally had this room exactly how I wanted it. After I ended things and took this space back, I stripped away every trace of the past. I draped the walls in the dark, gothic aesthetic that actually felt like me. It was my sanctuary in the apartment, a spooky little haven that was entirely mine.

Tonight, though, the shadows stretching across the dark walls felt too thick.

I was lying in bed, the bright screen of my Cosmic Orange phone illuminating my face in the pitch black as I scrolled. The rest of the apartment was dead silent—the heavy kind of quiet that makes your ears ring.

Then, a notification popped up at the top of my screen. AirDrop request. The name on the incoming file was my own.

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over 'Decline'. The preview image was tiny, but I could make it out perfectly. It was a photo of me, right now, lying in bed, illuminated by the orange glow of the phone.

The angle was looking straight down. Taken from the ceiling directly above me.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a cold sweat pricking the skin around my tattoos. I held my breath, listening to the suffocating silence of the apartment.

I didn't look up. I knew better than to look up.

My finger trembled as I hit Decline.

A second later, the phone buzzed again. A text message from an unknown number.

Look up. I like what you've done with the place.