The Black Balloon Followed Him

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It was tied to his wrist when he woke up.
A black balloon. No string, no tag — just there.

Jamie tugged. It didn’t budge.
He asked his parents.
They couldn’t see it.

At school, it floated just above him.
Silent. Glossy. Perfectly round.
Everyone else ignored it.

But Jamie felt its weight.
It wasn’t helium. It was… heavy.
He could feel the pull.

Each day, it hovered closer.
By Thursday, it was touching his head.
By Friday, it blocked his reflection in the mirror.

And then it started to whisper.

“You lied.”
“You cheated.”
“You hurt her.”

Memories came back.
Of the girl in the hallway.
Of the laughter.
Of the fall.
Of pretending he didn’t push.

The black balloon swelled.
It pulsed like a heartbeat.
And on Sunday, it popped.

But no pieces fell.
No bang.
Just silence.

And Jamie wasn’t in his room anymore.

His parents found an empty bed.
A faint shadow on the wall.
And a note.

Three words:
“It saw everything.”