After saying those ominous words, the lady turned back and gave a signal to one of her women. The woman gave a slight nod before rummaging through a big duffel bag that had somehow escaped the student's eyes before. She rummaged through it only to procure up a card.

A card that turned out to be a pen-drive but a card nonetheless. A card that was painted matte black with bits of its interior peeking out.

It took no time to project the content of the pen-drive onto the screen. The content was unexpectedly very normal for the atmosphere that was built since Layla entered that room. It seemed normal at a glance at least.

The image projected was of a painting. A girl stranded in the middle of a dark ocean with glistening waves being her only company. Her dark blue sundress stayed loose on her figure as it blended in with its surroundings. Her little feet stood on the water as though it were solid ground and her hands clasped behind her back outside the shot.

But her eyes were what snatched Layla's attention the moment the painting was shown.

Violet eyes that shone brighter than the waves stared sharply at the observer. Eyes that commanded attention while doing little. Face without an expression but eyes telling story that would be better left untold.

'This feels too real.'

And thus, it was unnerving. Layla wished she could escape those eyes which felt like they could be her downfall and her salvation.

And yet, she couldn't look away. For those eyes commanded her attention, forcing her to look at them. And that seemed to be the general consensus as the whole class immersed themselves in the painting.

The speaker lady must have satisfied enough for her to break their reverie and exclaim cheerfully, "Now, that is a good painting!"

The concentration was broken and the students who would usually be chattering about their experience were strangely silent.

Even Layla, who felt the need to remark about anything and everything, could not find the motivation to open her mouth.

And so, the speaker lady continued, "So. Who would like to pick up this project?"

Though she worded it as a proposal to the whole class, her gaze was locked on a specific student.

Layla followed her gaze to a student who was still mystified by the painting. After the speaker lady finished her words, the boy raised his hands as if he was possessed.

"I... will do it..."

His tone felt off, if Layla were to point a finger at it, it would be the monotone answer ending in a peculiar quiver or the jaw that stayed hanging in his every pause. This behavior wasn't normal but inexplicably, she could find herself coming up with far fetched rationalizations.

Layla looked down, closed her eyes, and calmed her mind. She consciously avoided the painting and the boy from that point on.

"That is wonderful! Please follow the assistant to the door young man, for the rest of you, you can commence with the general outline of the painting now!"

The boy exited the class, still gape mouthed.

Layla didn't feel like drawing, her mind was not quite racing but her heart felt uncomfortable. She did not have the slightest artistic inspiration but she picked up a pencil despite herself.

The instructor had said anything would be fine so she intended draw something generic like a hill. Anything would have been fine so why was Layla drawing the fine wings of a butterfly? She knew that she wasn't particularly gifted when it came to art, she always drew a hill with a sun peeking out in these classes when she was younger.

So why was her hand more resolutely than that of an artist? It hadn't even been ten minutes but she had already erased the guide lines she had never learnt to draw previously and was starting add details to the butterfly.

Layla could she what was being drawn, she could feel the ridges of the pencil but somehow, she could feel the pencil gliding over the rough paper. She was the one who was drawing this butterfly, she could think just fine, breathe just fine, articulate her surroundings just fine.

If she was so present, why was she drawing this butterfly? She could not draw, there is no way she would suddenly awaken a talent and drawing in such detail. This wasn't right at all.

But then, why wouldn't it be right? She was just drawing a butterfly, what was the big deal? She probably picked it up when she saw a video of that painting she saw three years ago, the brain can hold a lot, why would it not remember such a mere thing such as this?

"That's enough, you students can leave for the day."

Layla snapped out of it, she looked around and saw distinct drawings which strangely harmonized into one. 

'Oh no... This isn't right. Right?'

Layla turned towards Luna and said, "Hey Luna, don't you find it it a bit strange? Why is everyone drawing the same thing?"

"Huh? What are you talking about? They look pretty different to me. You must be imagining things, never mind that. Let's go home already."

Luna stretched her body and started smoothing out her clothes. Layla felt uneasy but she felt herself being forcibly calmed down, her unease had no reason to diminish but it was.

That terrified her.

She jolted up, pulled out the pocket book and used the sketching pencil to write in bold letters:
EVERYBODY DREW THE SAME THEME, NO ONE FOUND IT STRANGE

She felt her heart relax and her sanity return somewhat. By writing it down, she gained something tangible in this place that seemed to suck out her rationale.

"Let's leave already~ What are you doing still?"

Layla hurriedly put back that book in her pocket. She followed Luna but from the corner of her eyes, she could see the instructor smiling at her with eyes that did not seem to be smiling.

'Creepy huh?'

----------

9th July 2020

Dear diary,
                      I've stayed in this room for a week now but I'm still finding food stuck in strange places. The actual f*ck? Why is food popping up from the back of a blackboard?

It's like someone is leaving them out for me, whatever, getting food, that's what matters. I keep hearing sounds at night though, like the class is full of brats.

Must be the leftover LSD in the system, shit makes it hard to sleep, No f*cker out there is as miserable as me.

F*ck I'm hungry now. Saw that rat just now, I've wanted to roast it ever since I saw it this morning.

Trevor