Phantoms of the Past

Author’s Note: The following chapters include depictions of depression, emotional isolation, and/or psychological tension. If you’re sensitive to these themes, feel free to skip Chapters V and VI or proceed with care.

The first thing I noticed was silence, or rather, the absence of sound.

ㅤㅤNot the kind that follows death, nor the kind that precedes it. A third kind of dull and toneless. A silence that doesn’t want to be noticed—and yet, it is.

ㅤㅤI stood by the corner of a quiet street, cold stone beneath my feet, the sky coved behind a blanket of clouds.

ㅤㅤThe second thing I noticed were familiar buildings, worn thin by time. Something felt unnatural about how my body existed here.

ㅤㅤPaved streets with signs in German.

ㅤㅤMy thoughts were heavy and slow, but accurate. I turned to the left and walked, still not sure why I moved in that direction. My boots echoed on the sidewalk.

ㅤㅤThis was no fantasy world.

ㅤㅤHad I teleported?

ㅤㅤMy head throbbed. I felt disjointed, split between the seams of time and self.

ㅤㅤAnd then saw it.

ㅤㅤThe corner where the Main Street met School Street. A stone wall covered in ivy. A scent I could recall, even now.

ㅤㅤA bakery.

ㅤㅤHow could I have forgotten?

ㅤㅤI walked it every day.

ㅤㅤI turned another street.

ㅤㅤThere it was. Behind tall hedges and flaking beige paint: the elementary school I went to. Schmidt und Braun. Everything was just as I remembered, fading blue doors still chipped at the edges.

ㅤㅤWhy this place?

ㅤㅤWhy now?

ㅤㅤI took some steps forward. My vision flickered at the edges. My fingers trembled. I looked at my hands. They were the hands I once had. The hands of a kid once called Xaver. Hands that didn’t know violence; a child’s hands.

ㅤㅤThis is who I was before becoming the White Raven.

ㅤㅤI reached into my pocket. My old watch.

ㅤㅤ17:02.

ㅤㅤTwo minutes past dismissal.

ㅤㅤThe school bell rang.

ㅤㅤChildren spilled out, some running, others dawdling with backpacks too large for their frail and small bodies. Their voices cut through the silence like glass. A high-pitched and layered sound, one I hadn’t heard in decades.

ㅤㅤI scanned the crowd.

ㅤㅤSome half-recognized, as if from a dream. Round cheeks, crooked teeth, innocent faces. None met my eyes.

ㅤㅤI didn’t say anything.

ㅤㅤParents arrived. Hugs were exchanged. Voices calling names. One father hoisted his son onto his shoulders. A girl skipped into her mother's arms. Laughter.

ㅤㅤAnd still, I stood.

ㅤㅤAlone. Watching.

ㅤㅤThe clouds thickened. A slow crawl of gray across the sky, blotting out the last remnants of afternoon light. The temperature dropped enough to tighten my skin.

ㅤㅤThis wasn’t any normal day.

ㅤㅤAnd then I looked at my watch again.

ㅤㅤ17:43.

ㅤㅤBelow the time, with small letters:

ㅤㅤ11th Nov. 2009

ㅤㅤI hadn’t just moved through space.

ㅤㅤI had moved through time.

ㅤㅤAnd to a day I had buried deep inside, layered under years of silence and survival.

ㅤㅤThe day I would have gone to the zoo with my dad and little sister.

ㅤㅤThe day my mom came for me instead of them.

ㅤㅤThis was that day.

༺═─–⸻–─═༻

ㅤㅤI watched the last children leave. One by one. Until none remained.

ㅤㅤI closed my eyes. Forced myself not to remember. The car that was coming for me was late. A teacher stayed with me for some time, then made a call and left. It was dark by the time someone else came.

ㅤㅤMy mom. A woman whom I entrusted my world to came under an umbrella.

ㅤㅤShe didn't speak when she arrived.

ㅤㅤNot a hug. Not a question. Just an umbrella to shield our heads and raindrops ticking against the pongee.

ㅤㅤAt home, the lights were dimmed. She set her purse down with a kind of care. I now understand it wasn’t about the purse at all.

ㅤㅤ“Go to your room, Xaver,” she said quietly, “Do your homework. I have to go somewhere. I’ll be back late.”

ㅤㅤ“Where?” I asked.

ㅤㅤShe hesitated. A pause sharp enough to slice breath in two.

ㅤㅤ“Just... somewhere,” she answered.

ㅤㅤI wanted to ask more, but didn’t. Maybe it was the way her hands trembled, or how her gaze faded.

ㅤㅤSo I obeyed my mom.

ㅤㅤI sat in my room with a workbook open, pages full of tidy boxes and instructions in simple German. I remember the silence again—this time louder, with white noise behind it. I remember trying to finish math problems, but only staring at the numbers. Waiting. Listening.

ㅤㅤOutside, rain fell harder. Thunder groaned in the distance.

ㅤㅤTime moved like syrup over glass. The hands on the watch circled, slow and deliberate. Likely knew something I didn’t.

ㅤㅤI couldn’t sleep.

ㅤㅤI just stared at the ceiling, arms at my sides, anticipating how my world was about to be destroyed before me.

ㅤㅤI woke to the hard sound of keys turning. The door opened. Familiar voices entered. My grandparents.

ㅤㅤMy grandfather’s voice was rough. I believed it was the voice a man gained once he had lived it all. Although my grandmother's was gentle. Like the sound of water flowing down a creek. She sat beside me on the bed and stroked my hair with her gentle hands. No words. Just that.

ㅤㅤThey’d be staying with me for a while. Just for a while, they said. That things were... complicated. That mama had something important to do. That I didn’t need to worry.

ㅤㅤBut I did.

ㅤㅤI worried every second.

ㅤㅤMy grandparents never spoke of what happened that afternoon.

ㅤㅤAll I knew was that the people I loved never came back.