PILOT

 My desk lamp gave off a soft glow that lit up the battlefield of books and notes that were all around me. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of historical dates and events because I had midterm exams coming up soon. History, which is my weak spot, was the main enemy, and the project to study an ancient artifact made me feel like I had to defeat a scary dragon. My eyes darted across the pages, absorbing information, but my mind struggled to retain anything.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the strain of hours I spent studying. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was well past my lunch time. A sigh escaped my lips, and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd ever get through all the material.

My focus shifted to the stack of history books, each page filled with scribbled notes and highlighted passages. My research project's due date was coming up quickly, and I had to weave the historical tapestry into an interesting story. Our history professor gave us a research project where you have to choose between a historical figure, historical event, or artifact and draft up a detailed story about it or refer to it. This was kind of like a do-or-die kind of project. My chosen subject, an ancient artifact shrouded in mystery, taunted me from the pages of my notebook.

Sarah, my best friend, walked into the room like a breath of fresh air, just as the pressure of my academic responsibilities was about to crush my spirit. Her happy, bubbly energy did not seem to be affected by the heavy stress of school.

"Hey there, Emily! What is going on?" The gleam of excitement could be seen in Sarah's eyes as she chirped.

I glanced up from my notes and tried to muster up a grin, but it probably was not convincing enough. "Hey there, Sarah. All of this historical research is making me feel like I am drowning. It is driving me completely insane.

Sarah lay down on the bed, her long brown hair falling behind her, unfazed by the obvious stress that I was going through. "You're too hard on yourself. Keep in mind that life is about more than just studying for tests and doing research. We need to give you a break, Em!

I let out a sigh as I ran my fingers through my hair, which was tangled up. "Yes, I am aware of that, but I simply cannot afford to slack off at this time. This research will determine whether or not I receive a passing grade in history. 

Sarah's eyes widened, and she leaned in closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder to offer both support and comfort. All right, how about we try this? You take a break right now, and we'll go explore that new thrift store I saw in the email. It's a great way to unwind, and who knows, maybe you'll find something for your historical narrative."

My initial resistance began to waver, and I raised an eyebrow in response. "A thrift store? Really?"

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and she nodded her head. Believe me when I say that it is more like a treasure hunt than a store. Plus, it'll get you out of this suffocating atmosphere for a bit. Em, you really need to take a break so you can relax.

I closed my history books with a reluctant nod, feeling a little better after all the stress that had been building up. "Okay, fine. Let's check out this thrift store of yours. But we're on a tight schedule. I need to get back to work soon."

Sarah clapped her hands together, grinning ear to ear. "That's the spirit! You won't regret it, I promise."

I stood up from my bed. "Only because I love you." I said with a weak smile. 

I gave a quick scan around my room, just looking at all the books scattered across my desk and bed. I went to open my wardrobe, looking through my neatly packed clothes. I took out a loose pair of blue jeans and a pink baggy t-shirt. While I paged through, I remembered that I had lost my favourite blue dress that I had custom-made for my birthday party earlier this year. I had no idea where I put it. 

In fact, I had lost a handful of items since the beginning of my exams. My cup, my bracelet, my book, and now the dress. Misplacing my things was very unusual for me because I'm a very organized person. And I usually remember where everything is. However, I just assumed that it was the academic stress getting the best of me.

Anyway, as we stepped out into the crisp air of the autumn evening, I couldn't help but feel a sliver of anticipation.

******

We found ourselves in front of a building that was supposed to house the new thrift store. The sign was there, but something felt off. The place looked more like a yard sale than a store. Tables lined with random items filled the front yard, and I exchanged a puzzled glance with Sarah.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" I asked, eyeing the mismatched collection of objects.

Sarah chuckled, "Well, it did say 'thrift store' in the ad. Don't be such a prune. Come on, let's give it a shot. We might find something worth some bucks here!"

The makeshift store unfolded before us, a chaotic blend of colors and textures. Tables and shelves groaned under the weight of items ranging from dusty vinyl records to weathered leather-bound books. Mismatched teacups, vintage clothing, and trinkets from decades past formed a kaleidoscope of forgotten memories.

Sarah's eyes lit up with excitement as she scanned the eclectic offerings. "Isn't this place fascinating?" she exclaimed, her fingers grazing over the spines of old novels.

I, however, couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that gripped me. I moved cautiously through the narrow aisles, my eyes darting from one item to another. The atmosphere seemed to thicken with every step.

As Sarah enthusiastically explored a rack of retro clothing, my gaze fell upon a familiar glimmer. There, nestled among a collection of tarnished jewelry, was my missing bracelet. I froze, disbelief washing over me. Sarah turned to her with a grin, holding up a vintage mug.

"Look what I found! It looks just like the one you have. It's like a treasure hunt in here," Sarah laughed.

I just looked at her dumbfoundedly. 

"What the hell!" I muttered under my breath, my mind failing to process this.

'Maybe it's a coincidence,' I thought, brushing it off.

But my eyes remained fixed on the bracelet. I quickly gave the place another scan. My unease deepened as I noticed more of my belongings scattered throughout the store—my favorite mug,the rare edition of the book I had searched for tirelessly.

"Ok, this is beyond the point of coincidence," Sarah gave me a puzzeled look. 

"Sarah, this isn't right. These are my things," I whispered, my voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and concern.

Sarah, caught up in the excitement of all the finds, waved it off. "Come on, Em. It's just a coincidence. People donate stuff, and you know how random these thrift stores can be."

Yet I couldn't dismiss the nagging feeling that clung to me like a shadow. I continued to browse, trying to calm myself.

When Sarah beckoned me to a corner filled with vintage books, My eyes widened. There, prominently displayed, was my custom dress, suspended on a mannequin as if waiting to be claimed. Panic surged through me, and I clutched Sarah's arm.

"Sarah, this is too much. Something is wrong. We have to go back to my dorm," I urged, my voice urgent, pointing to the dress.

"Oh, that is creepy. Okay let's go."

Back in the dorm room, Sarah and I began a frantic search for the missing items. Drawers were pulled open, books were rifled through, and closets were scoured. But the bracelet, the mug, and the dress were all not there.

The thought of someone breaking into my room to steal such random items was confusing to me. But they were all at the store, so probably all the other items in that shady store were also stolen.

"We're involving the police. I need answers." I suggested, determined to get to the bottom of the mystery.

Sarah gave me a silent look, slightly nodding her head.

We reported this to the police, and they assigned us two policemen who'd escort us to the store.

As we returned to the thrift store with a pair of puzzled officers, the scene that awaited us was beyond explanation. The yard sale had vanished, leaving only an empty space and a lingering sense of bewilderment.

"What!" I looked at Sarah, confused. "It was right here. I swear I'm not lying."

The police officers exchanged confused glances, and I could sense the skepticism in their expressions. How does a whole store just disappear, leaving me and Sarah standing on the sidewalk, grappling with unanswered questions?