Alex turned swiftly at the sound of his name and found himself face to face with the young man from the police station—the officer who had helped him yesterday. But this time, Louis Davis looked different. His uniform replaced by regular clothes, his brown hair hanging loose rather than tightly combed, made him almost unrecognizable at first.
Louis smiled warmly, waving as he stood near his office in the town hall. "Alex, right? Good to see you."
Alex approached him, a mix of relief and curiosity flooding his chest. "Hey, yeah. It's good to see you too."
"How are you holding up after everything yesterday?" Louis asked gently, his eyes kind beneath the tiredness of long hours on duty.
Alex shrugged, "It's been a lot. But I'm okay… Thanks to you."
Louis chuckled softly. "No need to thank me. It's part of the job. Though, I'm glad you're alright."
As they talked, Louis shared snippets of his life—how he had transferred here last year, adjusting to the slower rhythms of the small town after years in a busier precinct.
"Small towns have their own kind of stories," Louis said, glancing out the window. "Sometimes quieter doesn't mean safer. You've got to stay sharp."
Alex listened, intrigued, learning that Louis wasn't just an officer on duty but someone who had quietly woven himself into the fabric of the town.
By the end of their conversation, Alex had learned the name Louis Davis—and felt, perhaps for the first time, a faint thread of connection in this new place.
By the time Alex finally said goodbye to Louis Davis near the library, the sun was dipping low and the evening shadows had lengthened. He hurried back to the cabin, the day's weight settling on his shoulders.
When he pushed open the door, Grey was already there, standing in the kitchen. Without surprise, Grey glanced at Alex with a half-smile and casually asked, "Why so late?"
Alex shrugged, feeling the warmth of home despite the lateness. "I went out to explore the town some more. Met the police officer again, we talked. That's why I got back late."
Grey nodded slowly, absorbing the explanation in silence.
Later, at dinner, the quiet hum of the cabin filled the room. Grey cleared his throat, breaking the peaceful quiet. "How about we get you a bicycle for school? The road from here is long, and I can't always drop you off."
Alex's eyes lit up instantly. "I can buy one myself," he insisted, a stubborn pride surface amid his exhaustion.
Grey's voice cut through firmly, his gaze steady. "I'm going to buy you that bike this weekend. End of discussion."
The resolve in Grey's tone left no room for argument, a silent promise to make life easier for Alex on this long journey ahead.
Next morning alex goes to jog again in the forest hoping to see the girl again.
The morning air was heavy as Alex pushed deeper into the forest, the canopy thickening and casting shadows that made the daylight feel muted, almost twilight. The forest—which had once seemed merely mysterious—now felt ominously alive.
His eyes caught strange marks etched into the bark of several trees ahead—symbols drawn in a vivid red, eerily reminiscent of blood. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Without hesitation, Alex snapped photos with his phone, heart racing with a mix of fear and fascination.
Then, as a barely audible lullaby began to weave through the trees, slow and haunting at first, it grew louder and more insistent. The forest itself seemed to darken with the rising volume, wrapping him in a thick, unnatural silence.
Suddenly, there came a rash, heavy sound—the unmistakable crunch of footsteps nearby.
Frozen, Alex's voice broke the stillness. "Who's there?"
No answer.
Then, just as abruptly, the forest burst into light, as if someone switched on an unseen lamp.
Heart pounding, Alex hurried away, first walking cautiously, then breaking into a run that carried him relentlessly through the woods until the cabin's silhouette appeared through the trees.
At the doorstep, his legs gave way, and he collapsed onto the sofa in the living room, breathless and shaken, the echoes of the lullaby lingering darkly in his mind.
Alex slowly recovered from his heavy breathing on the sofa, the tension of the morning lingering just beneath the surface. Grey emerged from the kitchen, voice casual but attentive as he asked, "You're back. Everything alright? What happened?"
Alex, still catching his breath, forced a small smile and replied, "Just ran too much, nothing else." His eyes briefly flickered away, carefully hiding the fear and unease from the morning's strange experience in the forest. He didn't want to talk about the eerie symbols, the haunting lullaby, or the frightening silence that had gripped him.
Grey nodded, accepting the answer at face value, though the furrow in his brow suggested he suspected more.
Alex's choice to hide the full truth was a reflection of his own uncertainty and an attempt to keep some control—and perhaps protect Grey from worry. Often, children and teens conceal traumatic or unsettling experiences, finding it safer to bear the burden alone, especially when the source of their fears feels otherworldly or incomprehensible.
For now, Alex needed time to process, but the weight of silence pressed heavily on him.
Alex went to school feeling heavy-hearted and distracted, his mind clouded with unease.
Throughout the classes, his focus wavered, the weight of recent strange encounters pressing on him. During lunch, as he quietly worked on his homework in the library, he suddenly spotted the girl from the forest sitting on a bench by the window. She greeted him politely with a soft "hello," but Alex, anxious and overwhelmed, just nodded and couldn't gather the courage to talk to her. Despite thinking over a hundred times about asking her who she was or why she was there, anxiety tangled his thoughts and he forgot everything as soon as he faced her. When he finally noticed again, the girl had vanished, leaving Alex frustrated and restless.
Alex's day at school blurred into a haze of distraction and worry. His mind was heavy, clouded with the weight of recent events and anxiety, making it difficult for him to focus on lessons. His teachers noticed his uncharacteristic distraction and concern flickered in their eyes.
At end of the school, lost in thought, Alex wandered toward the road crossing near the school. The world seemed to slow as he absentmindedly took a step toward the street. Suddenly, a car sped toward him, and just as he was about to be hit, a strong hand pulled him back to safety.
During a break, lost in thought, Alex wandered toward the road crossing near the school. The world seemed to slow as he absentmindedly took a step toward the street. Suddenly, a car sped toward him, and just as he was about to be hit, a strong hand pulled him back to safety.
Alex looked up to see Max, a fellow student from the same school but a different class. Max's calm presence offered an unexpected sense of reassurance in the chaos of Alex's day. They exchanged small talk, and before parting ways, shared phone numbers—a new connection in Alex's unsettled world.
Feeling the mix of relief and tentative hope, Alex made his way back to the cabin, the weight of the day momentarily lifted by the kindness of a stranger.After a long day filled with unsettling encounters and overwhelming thoughts, Alex fell into a deep sleep that night, but it was marked by exhaustion more than restfulness. His mind, heavy with the events from the morning and school, was too tired for conscious reflection. This exhaustion led to a state where memories of the day's incidents became blurry, slipping away as sleep took over. This kind of forgetfulness can result from sleep deprivation or extreme mental fatigue, where the brain struggles to consolidate or recall recent memories. Sleep is crucial for memory formation and emotional processing; without it, recalling details—even significant ones—can become difficult.
Alex's unnoticed slipping into sleep without fully remembering his day's troubling moments reflects how his body and mind sought refuge from the mounting anxiety, suppressing distressing thoughts as a temporary protection.