Everything was normal.

Literally everything was exactly as it normally was, or at least within the bounds of normal. She was at home. Her parents were at home. She was doing some homework. She was listening to music. She was sitting at the desk in her bedroom.

And then… well, it was rather remarkably the same, and yet something extremely crucial was gone. Missing. The normalcy of the whole situation no longer felt genuine to Rachel. It felt fake, artificial, copied, and like it wasn't even trying to comfort her.

Slightly disturbed, she looked around her room. Everything looked normal.

She looked at herself, making sure she hadn't somehow grown another arm without noticing. Everything still looked normal.

Then she took her earphones out, deciding that being unable to hear her surroundings was probably stopping her from noticing something.

But it wasn't? There was nothing. There were no mysterious noises, there were no noises of terror, warnings from supposed prophets of the apocalypse, screams from people terrorized by some horrific event – there was nothing.

And she supposes that was exactly the problem.

She lives out in the suburbs. Were she to look out her window, she should be able to see cars passing by every so often, or kids playing on bikes or something. They usually make enough noise for her to hear them.

Her dad was watching the TV downstairs. She should be able to hear that, too.

Then there were her neighbors, the Emersons, who were having a party tonight. That's part of the reason she put in headphones – so she wasn't distracted by the noise.

She could hear exactly nothing. She's not sure how she noticed that with her headphones, and it doesn't necessarily mean anything, but it definitely sets alarm bells going in her head.

So she pulls open her curtains somewhat apprehensively.

Everything was normal.

Literally everything was exactly as it normally was, or at least within the bounds of normal. She was at home. Her parents were at home. She was doing some homework. She was listening to music. She was sitting at the desk in her bedroom.

And then… well, it was rather remarkably the same, and yet something extremely crucial was gone. Missing. The normalcy of the whole situation no longer felt genuine to Rachel. It felt fake, artificial, copied, and like it wasn't even trying to comfort her.

Slightly disturbed, she looked around her room. Everything looked normal.

She looked at herself, making sure she hadn't somehow grown another arm without noticing. Everything still looked normal.

Then she took her earphones out, deciding that being unable to hear her surroundings was probably stopping her from noticing something.

But it wasn't? There was nothing. There were no mysterious noises, there were no noises of terror, warnings from supposed prophets of the apocalypse, screams from people terrorized by some horrific event – there was nothing.

And she supposes that was exactly the problem.

She lives out in the suburbs. Were she to look out her window, she should be able to see cars passing by every so often, or kids playing on bikes or something. They usually make enough noise for her to hear them.

Her dad was watching the TV downstairs. She should be able to hear that, too.

Then there were her neighbors, the Emersons, who were having a party tonight. That's part of the reason she put in headphones – so she wasn't distracted by the noise.

But she could hear exactly nothing outside her room. She's not sure how she noticed that with her headphones, and it doesn't necessarily mean anything, but it definitely sets alarm bells going in her head.

So she pulls open her curtains somewhat apprehensively.

Everything was normal.

Literally everything was exactly as it normally was, or at least within the bounds of normal. She was at home. Her parents were at home. She was doing some homework. She was listening to music. She was sitting at the desk in her bedroom.

And then… well, it was rather remarkably the same, and yet something extremely crucial was gone. Missing. The normalcy of the whole situation no longer felt genuine to Rachel. It felt fake, artificial, copied, and like it wasn't even trying to comfort her.

Slightly disturbed, she looked around her room. Everything looked normal.

She looked at herself, making sure she hadn't somehow grown another arm without noticing. Everything still looked normal.

Then she took her earphones out, deciding that being unable to hear her surroundings was probably stopping her from noticing something.

But it wasn't? There was nothing. There were no mysterious noises, there were no noises of terror, warnings from supposed prophets of the apocalypse, screams from people terrorized by some horrific event – there was nothing.

And she supposes that was exactly the problem.

She lives out in the suburbs. Were she to look out her window, she should be able to see cars passing by every so often, or kids playing on bikes or something. They usually make enough noise for her to hear them.

Her dad was watching the TV downstairs. She should be able to hear that, too.

Then there were her neighbors, the Emersons, who were having a party tonight. That's part of the reason she put in headphones – so she wasn't distracted by the noise.

But she could hear exactly nothing outside her room. She's not sure how she noticed that with her headphones, and it doesn't necessarily mean anything, but it definitely sets alarm bells going in her head.

So she pulls open her curtains somewhat apprehensively.