The droning of Ed's car filled the cul-de-sac with a low hum, as if it were carefully treading on the asphalt to avoid waking the neighborhood. I could see Ed's heavy, baggy eyes slowly closing as we neared his driveway. Eddy, on the other hand, was fast asleep in the passenger seat. With the radio turned off and the windows rolled down, the sounds of summer crickets and the wind rustling through the trees filled our ears. I felt myself drifting to sleep as well; not only was the white noise of our town lulling me, but being high made it worse. I didn't realize how much time had passed until Eddy finished his story; almost two hours later, after recollecting his memories and answering our endless questions.

But it was nice. It felt like a strong connection formed between all of us. I felt closer to Eddy than ever before. Seeing him be so vulnerable in front of us was a rare sight. The only other time I had seen him so transparent was when we visited his brother. Since that day, I could tell he hadn't been the same. It wasn't just because he was embarrassed in front of everybody—it was that his whole identity, which he had been building up for years, had come crashing down. He wanted to be liked, admired, and accepted by his peers. He wanted to project an image of himself that was as cool as his brother's, hoping it would boost his social status. But all of that was a façade, masking his insecurities about himself. He was scared he wasn't enough for everyone else. He saw how well others got along and wondered why he couldn't do the same.

I stared at Eddy, who was peacefully sleeping, and broke into a soft smile, feeling deep sympathy for him. Sometimes he can be hard-headed, but I realized he's still barely learning who he is. I think he's pretended for so long that he doesn't really know who Eddy is. But I know that he knows this, and I'm happy to see him try. I let out a big yawn and stretched as Ed finally pulled the car into his driveway. He turned off the car and sat in silence, his exhaustion painted across his troubled face. I could see that all the lights in his house were turned on—I guessed that one of his parents was still up, and he was trying to figure out which one. Mom or Dad, he didn't seem too thrilled about either.

"Crap, maybe I can sneak around the back…" Ed softly mumbled under his breath. He turned to Eddy, trying to wake him up with a gentle shake of the shoulder. Eddy didn't budge, so Ed shook him harder until he finally woke up.

"Wha-huh?" Eddy blurted out. He tried to open his eyes as wide as he could, rubbing them until he could focus.

"What's going on?" Eddy asked.

"We're home, but I need to sneak around the back so I don't bump into my parents," Ed explained.

"I just need one of you guys to help me open my window. It's been getting harder to pry open," he asked. Ed still lived downstairs in his home, and his room had barely changed. Of course, he put up new posters now and then and got a better TV, but everything else was still memorable.

"Ugh, fine. Let's hurry up then. I'm too tired for this," Eddy grumpily agreed.

"You can go on, Sockhead. Ed and I got this. We'll catch ya tomorrow or something." I nodded with a heavy head, exiting Ed's car and making my way home. The clear skies allowed me to take in the view of the stars, with a cool summer breeze brushing against my face. The low electrical hums of the street lamps orchestrated my way home, accompanied by the washed yellow light they spread on the ground. I don't think I've ever felt so at peace before—not worrying about anything or anyone, just enjoying the present and whatever was around me. Being in the moment made me realize how I had never been in it. There's always something going on, something to be anxious about; I had forgotten how to relax. I hate to say it, but Eddy helped me out tonight by taking us away. I wasn't fond of the idea at first, but this evening was very therapeutic. I wouldn't have felt this way with anyone else, and I'm glad I got to share it with them.

I noticed I had almost passed by my own house, but luckily, I recognized the one street lamp that doesn't work and realized I had gone too far. Luckily, I didn't have to worry about coming home late to my parents, since they've been gone for work for a while now. But deep down, I sorta wished I had someone to come home to. I reached into my pockets to take out my house key and unlock the door, but as I tried to jam my key into the lock, my front door swung wide open. My heart sank instantly. I held my breath and felt fear creep up my back. There's no way I forgot to lock my house—I never do. Not only that, but I have a chain lock that I always set up before leaving, and it was unlocked. I tried to recollect all the memories I had before I left the house today, but I didn't remember not locking up. I hesitated at first, but I slowly swung the front door open, careful not to make it creak. I peeked my head through to see if the light from the street lamps could brighten a few feet in front of me, but so far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I was still too scared to go any further into my house, especially into the parts where there wasn't any light. I looked to where the main light switches should be and saw they weren't too far, but I was too scared to go any further. I pondered whether I should just call the cops right now and be safe rather than sorry, but seeing that there wasn't any damage or theft from what I could see, I thought maybe I had just left it unlocked. Nonetheless, I needed more light to see if anything was really worth calling for. I took a deep breath and carefully treaded my way toward the light switch, where I turned them all on.

My jaw dropped as I scanned around my entire house, covered in sticky notes. And I'm not even exaggerating—every single empty space on my walls and furniture was covered with sticky notes. I could tell a majority of them had writing on them; others had drawings that I couldn't make out unless I got closer. I slowly walked around my house, checking all the rooms downstairs to see if the sea of sticky notes ended. My dining room, living room, kitchen—all had sticky notes. Nothing was destroyed or stolen; this was more vandalism than burglary. I walked toward the wall to try to read what was on the notes. My shaky breath barely uttered the words out loud, with many of them being hateful, vulgar messages:

"FUCK YOU!"

"CHEATER."

"LIAR."

"ORPHAN." I took a couple more off the wall; these ones were longer.

"AT LEAST MY PARENTS KNOW WHAT THE INSIDE OF OUR HOUSE LOOKS LIKE."

"HOW MANY MORE SKELETONS ARE IN YOUR CLOSET?"

"YOU'LL LEARN THAT YOUR FRIENDS ARE YOUR BIGGEST REGRET."

My tears ended up soaking the sticky notes I held in my hand. I continued to scan the walls, and it was an endless layer of insults targeted at my intellect, my parents, my friends, and the mistakes I made. Out of anger I started tearing off the sticky notes by handfuls, paying no mind if I was scrapping the paint off the wall. I kept clawing away until I saw no more yellow on the wall. Every time I thought I got rid of them, I turn around to see another area filled with those notes. I felt like no matter where I went in the house, there was some sort of hatred, targeted towards me. Then I quickly thought about my room. I ran towards the stairs, skipping steps while going up, quickly turning right and another right. I saw my door was barely opened but noticeable someone was in there. I was scared at first but my adrenaline took over and I swung my door wide open. To my surprise, it was completely untouched. I am usually on top of keeping my room cleaned and well organized, and from a glance nothing looked wrong. I looked under my bed, checked my closet and drawers-nothing. I was utterly confused, why did they come in here then? I always leave my room closed, and it's obvious that they went through my home. But nothing was taken, and nothing was vandalized. I only stayed confused for a second longer before thinking about my parents room. I quickly ran out and headed towards the hallway.

I barge in like a SWAT member, flinging the door wide open hitting the wall adjacent to it. I scan the room in darkness and see two figures sitting upright on their bed. I quickly gasp for air as I panic for the light switch. As the lights turn on, I see two mannequins in their spot. One mannequin with a black, medium long wig and the other with a black, short and clean kept wig and glasses. They were wearing my parents clothes, with a sticky note at their feet. I slowly walked over and picked up the note, reading "At least you'll know these ones won't leave."

I crumbled up the note and threw it across the room. I picked up both of the mannequins, running out of the room and throwing them down the stairs, tears falling from my face. I grabbed onto the stair railing, trying my hardest not to burst into more tears. It was no use. I slowly melted along the railing, bawling and letting out embarrassing cries.

"Why me…" I whispered.
I got up and slowly walked down the stairs, where I picked up the mannequins and corrected their positions. I looked at them with teary eyes that distorted my vision, morphing the mannequins' heads into my parents' faces. I quickly wiped my tears and their faces suddenly disappear, and I'm just left with a blank, lifeless object. I lay on the ground between the mannequins and just cried. I cried… and cried until I couldn't remember when I fell asleep.
My eyes opened suddenly, and the first thing I feel is a straining pain along the right side of my neck. I tried to lift my head up but the pain stopped me. Instead, lifted my body up slowly, keeping my head leveled to avoid movement. Once I sat up, I tried to stretch my neck, wincing at the discomfort. After a while of stretching it felt okay to move but damn I definitely slept wrong. I look to my left and right to see the mannequins, motionless and gray. I felt disgusted at the sight so I quickly picked them up and headed to my trashcans, dumping them into the empty bin.

As I threw them away I noticed one of the neighbors watching me, watering their front lawn. I felt a sudden rush of awkwardness, as I didn't know whether to say hi or just walk away. He seemed to be weirded out too, and just stared with a confused look. I started to notice that we were staring for too long, becoming aware of the silence and also the filling sound of the water splashing onto the grass. I opened my mouth but nothing came out, sensing it was worthless to explain so I just looked down on the ground and walked away, back into my home.

I closed the door behind me and waiting until the redness of my cheeks died down. I took a deep, shaky breath as I looked up and saw some notes still up on the wall. Looking at them all made me feel exhausted, especially the ones high up on the wall. I decided to go to the bathroom first, where I took a steamy shower. I felt kind of sick, not physically but grossed out knowing strangers were in my home. Not only that, they had some knowledge of me considering they were mocking my parents and some of the drama from the past. It felt easy to say who it was, or at least who had a motive to do so. But I felt like I needed more proof before I could do something about this. I noticed that they made sure to not leave any trace. I would have to look more thoroughly today but I didn't see any footprints. My thoughts were swirling nonstop as I tried to relax in the shower. My head was pounding with pressure, pulsating with pain. I hated headaches because I would get bad ones, sometimes even migraines. This one felt like it was going to be one so after I finished showering I made sure to find some of the high dosage ibuprofen I save for times like these. I finished drying off, changed into some fresh clothes and went downstairs to get water for these pills. As I went downstairs I couldn't keep my eyes off my wall, where I kept reading them over and over. I snapped out of it, knowing that reading them won't do me any good. I just didn't understand why now, and why are they so vengeful? What else could they know to use against me? Come to think about it, they must have been following me last night to know I was gone, and also leave my house in time. Because putting those sticky notes all over my house is time consuming. I felt shivers go down my spine, feeling creeped out that I was potentially stalked. I shrugged it off, popping the ibuprofen in my mouth, chasing it down with some water. I looked around my kitchen now with more light coming into my house, and nothing seemed destroyed or ransacked. Just a bunch of stinky notes everywhere. I looked inside the drawers, cabinets even the oven to see if anything is misplaced-nothing. I went into the dining room, nothing. Living room, nothing. I pondered for a bit. Obviously the sticky notes rule out it was a random burglary, but knowing nothing was stolen or broken also proves that this was personal and planned. I tried to take down as much sticky notes as possible, as I continued to search all the rooms on the first floor.

I went upstairs and looked again through my parents room. The only thing that was moved was their closet and clothes, from them trying to find stuff to put on the mannequins. I did notice that they went through some personal documents that were stashed in their closet. Some of it was taxes, business letters and such. Mostly just work stuff, but there were some sensitive info like medical records and also something I haven't seen before. It looked like some sort of strong box, small but heavy duty. It was made of a strong metal, but must have not been that strong because they seemed to have forced it open with something, there were blunt impacts and scratches along the box, like they were beating it with a hammer or getting some sort of bolt cutter. I didn't even know where they hid this, so I looked around the closet and noticed a small false wall space behind the dresser they had in their closet. It was small enough for the box to fix, so that's where they had it. But how did they know it was there? I sat confused for a while but decided to look through the box. There was definitely some papers missing. Some were crumbled, ripped and on the floor. It also looks like a packet of papers that had some pages ripped out poorly, like they were in a rush. I didn't know what any of these were, the papers had the water mark Orbis Corp in the corners with a company logo that resembled some hourglass and with a mechanical clock behind it. I started to pick up random papers and kept seeing Orbis Corp all over. Some had redacted lines, some had a classified tag at the top of the page and some are dated over 10 years ago. I noticed that both of my parents' name are on some of these pages. But since most were ripped and missing, it was hard to make out what exactly these were all about. The best I could piece together was half a page that's ripped into two. But if I held the pieces together, I could make out a coherent paragraph:

"...During preliminary trials, observations have documented recurrent anomalous perceptual phenomena in designated temporal anchors. Drs. Marion have advised enhanced containment protocols following side effect reports of temporal imprints—instances where anchor points display fleeting awareness of unfamiliar memories or objects inconsistent with the present. Subjects describe a pronounced sense of recognition toward these anomalies, as if recalling experiences from a different origin of time… Drs. Marion have classified such phenomena as temporal echoes.

Other instances have been recorded; although rare, some temporal anchors have reported physical or sensory remnants appearing briefly as a result of these trials. None have been permanent thus far but have left temporal anchors in states of cognitive dissonance and terror. Additionally, some anchors report experiencing perceptual dissonance, leaving them out of sync with their reality. Symptoms include identity confusion, memory disturbances, and, in severe cases, chronic depression, intense isolation, and suicidal ideation due to a growing sense of disconnection from reality and self.

Further investigation is required to understand how these temporal imprints may be affecting perception and whether they could become permanent. Plans are underway to reinforce anchor stability and prevent further breakdown in the anchor points from ongoing exposure..."
I tried my hardest to understand what the hell I just read. I had no idea what any of it meant—I definitely needed all the documents to even begin making sense of this. It sounded like these were logs from some kind of experiment, and for some reason, they mentioned my parents' last name. But they weren't doctors… nor scientists. All my life, I knew them as IT managers—or 'senior consultants,' as my dad liked to say—for a large company in Vancouver, and it required them to travel nearly every day. The name Orbis Corp rang a bell, I think they told me that's the parent company of their subsidiary, called Sentra. But it was just simple IT and data security, though my mom would say the reason they're away so much is because they deal with "high-profile clients" that require them to assess and implement security protocols on-site. I never really knew who these clients were, but they made them sound too important to question.
Besides all of that, this file was totally out of place in our home, and in our lives. This seemed like there was a bigger picture that I'm unable to see, and almost seems fake, like some sort of espionage film. My eyes kept reading the paragraph over and over and it made less sense the more I read. My trance was broken suddenly, from a loud bang from downstairs, with a familiar feminine voice shouting,
"Eddward! Are you here?! Are you okay?" the voice called. Chills went down my spine, goosebumps spreading across my body; the hairs on my arms stood up as I recognized the voice—it was my mom.

"Eddward! Please be here, where are you?!" another voice said. This time it was a gravelly voice, carried with urgency. Though restrained, you could tell he holds this voice back in stressful situations. Their subtle, weary voices filled the house, each word echoing with a deep resonance, blending with the panicked footsteps climbing the stairs.

My parents were home.

I never stood up so fast in my life, feeling a bit of dizziness from it. I didn't know what to do first; hide the box? Clean up as much as I could in their room? Call out that I'm okay? This was such a weird surprise, I didn't expect them to come home from work like this, they only do if there's an emergency. As I raced these thoughts through my head it took up too much time and saw the bedroom door swing wide open, and saw two tall figures come into light. A tall, short-haired man stood in the doorway, hints of gray showing in his otherwise dark hair, looking exhausted with his messy tie that matched his glasses, and loosened blue button up shirt. My mom was next to him, her complexion was fair but looked slightly dull, her cheeks a little flushed, likely from rushing. Her shoulder length hair seemed frizzled, with what looked like some coffee stains on her cream blouse and a small rip on her trousers.

My parents wasted no time to console me.

"Eddward oh my god say something! I was worried you weren't here and—and—" my mom's concerned, shaky voice was interrupted with my dad's calm, low voice.
"We're so happy that you're okay, we're so sorry that we took so long, we had to catch a flight we were too far away from Peach Creek. What on Earth happened? The house doesn't seemed trashed but there's some awful sticky notes laying around. Was someone in the house? Are you hurt?" The sudden care and attention took the breath out of my lungs. I don't really remember the last time I saw them, I think it was some time before school ended, so like a few weeks ago. I remember they took me out to The Peach Pit, which was a local restaurant, one of the only famous places here in our small town. I used to go a lot as a kid, but never been in years. Since I was moving into my junior year they wanted to celebrate me, knowing that this could be my graduating year; and of course because they were leaving for another work trip.

Nonetheless, seeing them right now from the state I was in last night was a bit too much, I couldn't hug them back or even talk. I had a big lump in my throat and I felt like crying but nothing came out. They broke their embrace and my dad held me by the shoulders, his brown eyes gazed into mine with a scary look.
"Eddward did anything happen to you? Are you okay?" he said. My cheeks flushed red a little, gulping before I talked.
"Ye-yeah, I'm okay, sorry…" I said shakily. My parents looked at each other, still concerned. My mom looked at me with the same glare, asking promptly
"What happened, Eddward?"

"I came home last night…and the door was open. I guess the house was more vandalized than burglarized. Nothing seemed to be stolen or broken, but I'm guessing it's all just a bad prank…" I said dryly. My tone of voice was noticeably somber, something I tried not to do. I felt my mom hug me, whispering in my ear.
"I'm sorry honey, I wish we could have been there. I know things have been rough for you, I am just so glad you are okay." I wanted to feel better after her words, but for some reason they just felt like blank statements. Honestly, her saying that is kind of ironic, if they only read a few more sticky notes I think they'd understand that I'm being mocked because of them. As she broke off her hug, my dad leaned in with a worried look.
"I'm sorry too, you have no idea how much I worry, and this was a worst case scenario to happen. I promise something like this won't happen again." he said, reassuring me. I looked at him with a dry smile, happier at the fact they even came home. I was about to either call them or the police but they seemed to have beaten me there. As the reunion ended my dad looks around the room, and asks with a worried voice.

"Hey, uh, you sure nothing is missing?" I looked at him with a hint of hesitation. I wanted to tell them about the box, to ask about what I found, but for some reason, I felt like they'd just play it off or come up with a believable excuse. They're both very convincing; sometimes, I have a hard time telling if they're lying or not. In the end, I don't think it'll matter. They know about the hidden box, and it's probably the first thing they'll check. If I acknowledge its existence, I don't know what would happen.

If any of it is true, and if it's as highly classified as it states, this could be a serious crime involving someone, and definitely something I don't want to be wrapped up in. Still, I can't shake the feeling that there's something larger at work than they're letting on. So for now, I'll play dumb.

"No, I was actually up here to double-check if anything went missing. When I came home last night, I was pretty freaked out, so I didn't stay upstairs for long. Are you guys looking for something? Do you need my help?" I asked.

"No, no, that's fine," dad replied. "There's just some family jewelry that's been passed down, and I'm hoping it's still here. But in the meantime—and this might sound a bit strange—we'll need to leave the house for a bit. You see, we installed some silent alarms when we started working in Vancouver, specifically because of the high-profile clients we work with. They're not tied to local police, but to a private security team that handles all responses. Once we heard the house was broken into, we were escorted with them here. So…they're waiting outside now. They wanted to walk through the house to make sure everything is safe." I had a hard time digesting what he said right now. Private security? What sort of security did they install? How high profile are their clients? And how far away were they that it took them overnight to get here? I would have assumed this private security would have gotten here sooner than the police. I had a bunch of questions for him but I could tell the antsy look on their faces that they want to leave the house. Even if I asked anything, they'd probably tell me "we'll talk later" and most of the time that later never comes.
"Uh…okay I guess. Can I get something from my room then before we go?" I asked.

"Of course, honey, we'll wait downstairs, okay?" my mom responded. I nodded, and the three of us exited the room, their hands resting on my shoulders. As I headed to my room, I felt their presence fall away behind me and listened to their footsteps descending the stairs. I let out a deep breath, slipping my hands into my back pocket, where I felt the crumpled papers of the file still tucked away. My heart was pounding in my throat—I was so nervous, lying to them and hiding something so sensitive. I really hoped they didn't notice I was lying. I thought I played it off well, but even so, I should probably hide this file somewhere else, especially if they plan on sweeping the whole house.

I looked around my room, taking in everything to make sure it was in order. I grabbed a jacket from my closet, noticing the clouds starting to gather outside. As I slipped it on, I scanned my room one last time—and then noticed something strange. A book was out of place on my shelf. On the second shelf from the top, my physics book was out of alphabetical order with the others. I keep everything in my room meticulously ordered; my OCD was the only thing that made me feel in control. If I did this, then I must be slipping.

I reached for the book to put it back in the correct order. But as soon as I pulled it out, a photograph fell from between the pages. I placed the book down on my desk and slowly reached for the picture. As I turned it over, my heart sank. Chills crept up my spine, this time reaching all the way to my head. My legs felt heavy, my breathing stopped.

It was a photo of Nazz and me, taken that night she came to my house late. It showed us hugging, just before she went into her house. My eyes widened in fear, and my headache pounded harder than before. Who took this? Why?
"Eddward! Sorry bud but we gotta go!" my dad yelled from downstairs. I still froze in frame, trying to get some words out but nothing could. My fear just doubled along with my anxiety skyrocketing.
"Eddward! Please!" he yelled again.

"Com-coming!" I yelled, with my voice cracking a little. I shoved the photo down my front pockets, still feeling that terrified look glued onto my face. I climbed down the stairs, joining my parents.

"Everything good?" my mom asked. I frantically answered back,
"Yeah! All good…" I said unconvincingly. I kept my head down but I could feel them exchanging glances at each other, confused. As we walked out I saw 2 all black SUVs with heavily tinted windows. There were about 7 or so guys waiting for us. They didn't seem like security at all, they seemed to be wearing all black suits and some with shades on, with ear pieces on all of their right ears. I didn't really bother to stare at them much because their gaze was scary enough for you to immediately look away. I looked at my dad, to where he nodded at one of them. That nod meant they were good to go, and almost immediately paced to our door and disappeared into our home. I looked back, still shocked and confused with so many questions but I know if I asked I'll just be left with more. I then felt my mom turn me around, locking eye contact with me.

"Listen I know this seems kind of weird, but it's something we instated a long time ago and never really had this sort of emergency happen before, so we're seeing this for the first time too. But I promise, our job is big in security for a reason." My dad then took the conversation over.

"She's right, it's a little scary for me too but I trust them all. Look, we're gonna stay here with them for a bit, just in case anything is missing and they need to know what. Your mom and I deposited some money in your card so you could do anything today, maybe go see Eddy and Ed. I think staying away from this mess might clear you head a little." I looked at him with a worried look, and I so wanted to ask him what the fuck was going on, but I bit my tongue.
"Okay…" I responded. He gave me a hug, reassuring me once more.
"We love you and we're so sorry." He pulled away, and I responded with a slow, "I love you guys too."
As I walked away, my dad turns back and raised his voice,
"Hey, when you're back tonight we can go eat at the Peach Pit! Haven't been there in a while huh? Probably not since you were a kid" he says. I looked at him with a confused gaze.
"Again? We just went a few weeks ago—guess it's that good, huh?" I asked mockingly, with a smile. Though his smile disappeared, and paused with his eyebrows knitting.

"Again? We haven't gone there in years buddy."