Unseen boundaries

I opened my eyes with a groan, my body weighed down as if something heavy was pressing against me.

My limbs ached with unfamiliar stiffness and for a moment I struggled to move.

Slowly, I forced myself upright.

"Finally up," Mike said, his voice cutting through my daze.

He stood at the doorway, towel around his waist, arms crossed watching me with an annoyed look.

"Hurry up and get ready, I need to shower so that we can grab some breakfast and head to class."

I nodded, dragging myself into the bathroom, eager to wash away my sluggishness.

The warm water cascaded over my skin, easing the tension in my muscles.

Faint steam curled from my body, I ran my fingers over my back where the book's markings had appeared yesterday.

My skin felt smooth—eerily so, it's like nothing ever happened.

'Did I heal?'

Impossible.

A chill ran through me.

I need answers.

'Wait Lidia, yess I have to find her.'

For some reason, even though this all felt bizarre—something even most people would call insane—I had this gut feeling that she would understand.

"Yo, bro! You taking a year in there or what? Hurry up!" Mike's voice echoed from outside the door.

I shook off my thoughts and turned off the water.

"Yeah, I'm just about done!" I called back.

**************************************

Cultural Anthropology Class|9:00 AM

Mike and I headed for the back row as the Professor sorted through his materials at the front of the room. The lecture hall buzzed with quiet conversations, students either half-asleep or typing away on their laptops.

As I sat down, I noticed Lidia a few seats away. The urge to ask her about the book gnawed at me, but I held back.

Class had just started, and I could catch up with her after class.

The professor adjusted his glasses and leaned against his desk. "Settle down."

The room stilled.

"My name is Professor Alden, and I'll be your instructor for this course. I expect you all to take my class seriously. I am not a man of patience."

His voice carried an undeniable authority, making it clear that he wasn't one for nonsense.

"Before we begin today's lecture, let me ask you something. His tone deliberate as he clasped his hands together.

"Have you ever felt like you were in between?"

"That moment when you feel unsure of who you are supposed to be, but you also who you're becoming?"

A murmur rippled through the room.

Students exchanged glances, some intrigued, others unsure of where this was going.

Professor Alden continued, his voice steady.

"That feeling has a name. In anthropology, we call it—liminality. A state of transition. A space between identities.

It is common within the rites of passage, coming-of-age rituals, and even grief.

Societies create rituals to guide people through these phases, but sometimes… people get stuck.

He scanned the room before continuing.

"So tell me—where do we see liminality in real life?"

Mike raised his hand. "It reminds me of existentialism. If life itself is an ongoing transition between birth and death, aren't we always in a liminal state?"

Professor Alden nodded approvingly. "Good point. Some philosophers argue that human existence is inherently liminal. But anthropology looks at specific moments where liminality is socially recognized.

He glanced at Mike."What's your name?"

"I am Mike...Mike Reynolds.Scholar and Philosopher. "

"You were literally watching tiktok a minute ago, I muttered."

The professor nodded in recognition.

"Well done, Mike."

I glanced at Mike, raising a brow.

"What? " he whispered,"Have you suddenly fallen for me? ."

"Dude, I'm gonna have to pass."

Speaking of, I said, tilting my head toward the redhead.

"You still haven't spoken to her?" I asked.

"Bro, you don't just walk into a midfield without having a game plan.

"You mean without a plan?"

"No, plus I was busy babysitting you."

"Wasn't I?"

I ignored him, focusing back on the topic.

As the discussion went on, the red-haired girl suddenly spoke. "It's all in our history, take ancient initiation rituals for example —warriors within their tribes had to live in isolation for weeks before they could return as 'men.'"

"They were not considered children anymore, but they were not warriors either."

"That's just my thoughts on liminality."

"Exactly." Professor Alden gestured toward the student, his expression didnt change much but something in his eyes showed approval.

"Rituals help us move from one stage of life to another."

Mike then let out a low whistle, whispering, "Smart and hot? I'm doomed."

I elbowed him,"Bro, stop being a creep?

Okay next question. The professor's voice sounded.

"What happens if you don't have a ritual? Or if you refuse to complete it?"

Silence.

I hesitated, before raising my hand. " I think we see it in branding. Like when someone buys a Rolex, they're not considered 'rich' instantly, but they are also not considered an average person either. They exist in that in-between space.

A few students murmured in agreement.

Professor Alden tilted his head, considering my answer. "That's an interesting take." He adjusted his glasses, his eyes settling on me.

"Your name?"

"Ethan...Ethan Helsing...Sir"

Well, Mr Helsing you made a valid entry on social liminality—where people exist between identities, not just life stages."

Something about the way he said it made my skin tingle, my fingers fidgeted, unease creeping over me.

I knew that in-between feeling all too well.

And now… my mind couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped.

***********************************

Siliskies Bar| Few Block Away

A car idled on the side of the road, its driver, Robert, staring intently at the entrance of Siliskies Bar.

His fingers tapped against the steering wheel as his eyes flickered to the photograph on the dashboard—a grainy image of a middle-aged man wearing dark sunglasses.

Then, the bar door suddenly creaked open, and Robert straightened in his seat.

A middle-aged man stepped out, adjusting his sunglasses against the afternoon sun.

Robert exhaled sharply. Target found.

His hand hovered over the door handle, ready to follow—

Knock, knock.

Robert froze.

Slowly, he turned his head to see a uniformed officer standing outside his window.

"Afternoon, sir. You can't park here."

Robert forced a tight-lipped smile, pushing down the frustration rising in his chest. "Ah, my bad, officer. I was just checking something on my phone."

The officer nodded but lingered. "Mind showing me your license and registration?"

Robert gripped the wheel. The man in the sunglasses was moving, slipping away into the crowd.The dagger at his hip burned cold against his skin as he forced a smile."

His chance was slipping away.

"Of course." He reached into the glove compartment, keeping his movements deliberate and calm. He handed over the documents, forcing himself to keep his breathing steady.

The officer glanced over them before handing them back. "Just don't park here again, this area is now under servellance."

"Mr.Carter."

Robert gave a stiff nod. "Got it. Thanks, officer."

As soon as the cop walked away, Robert started the engine, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

He drove off, taking a side street, his hands gripping the wheel tighter than necessary.

' Had he seriously just lost him?'

In his rearview mirror, the middle-aged man in sunglasses stood at the corner, watching Robert's car disappear down the road.

Behind the dark lenses, a faint golden light shimmered.