Alex returned from the forest, a heavy uneasiness clinging to him like a second skin. The memory of Ruby's warning pressed on his chest, each step toward home slower than the last. The forest behind him whispered faintly, as if alive, reminding him that he had crossed a line he wasn't meant to.
By the time he reached the cabin, dawn had begun to bloom faintly across the horizon. Inside, he hurried through his morning routine—dressing, grabbing his bag, and forcing himself to eat a few hurried bites of breakfast. His movements were automatic, but his mind was far from still.
The strange symbols on the trees, the haunting lullaby that echoed through the nights, and the relentless knocking at midnight—all tangled together in his thoughts until they became one shapeless dread. He couldn't explain it, not even to himself, but something deep within him told him that the forest was watching.
He pushed the thought away and stepped out onto the street toward school. The morning air was crisp, the world drowsily coming alive around him. Yet, the further he walked, the stronger an unsettling feeling grew in his chest—a prickling awareness that he wasn't alone.
He slowed down, his ears straining for sound. Footsteps? Maybe. Or maybe it was just the gravel shifting beneath his own shoes. He looked back once—no one. Twice—still nothing. But the feeling didn't fade.
The street suddenly felt too quiet, the world stretched thin around him. Each time he turned forward again, his heartbeat grew louder, pounding in his ears. Whether imagination or something unseen, Alex couldn't shake the ghostly certainty that someone—or something—was following close behind, just beyond the reach of sight.
And for the first time that morning, he wished he had listened to Ruby's warning.
When the school gates finally came into view, relief flooded Alex so powerfully it almost hurt. The heavy uneasiness clinging to him since the morning loosened just a little, replaced by the comforting sense of routine and safety school represented.
His first class of the day passed in a blur, lost in a fog of lingering tension and half-focused thoughts. But when the second class—chemistry—began, Alex found himself genuinely engaged for the first time that day. The familiar rhythm of lab experiments, the tangible focus required, pulled him away from the chaos in his mind.
As he measured and mixed chemicals, the morning's hectic unease began to fade. For a while, Alex forgot about the forest, the lullaby, and the knock at midnight. Here, surrounded by the clink of glassware and the soft murmurs of classmates, he found a fragile stillness—a brief respite from the storm within.
After a day of classes that went surprisingly well with Max and his classmates, Alex met Max near the school gate. They walked together along the road, sharing their experiences from the day. Alex mentioned his plan to look for part-time jobs, like babysitting, hoping to earn some money. Max promised to let him know if he heard of any opportunities.
As they parted ways, Alex headed toward the cabin, but once again, he felt the chilling sensation of being watched or followed. This time, his heart pounded as he turned sharply to see who might be there. Finding no one, the fear pushed him to run without stopping until he reached the cabin.
Fortunately, Grey was home, chopping wood outside. Seeing Alex's frantic run, Grey immediately asked, "Why are you running?" Alex's breath came in quick gasps, the unease from earlier still gripping him tightly.
Alex gasped between his words as he explained to Grey, "Someone's been following me… I felt it again on the way back." His breath was still heavy from the run.
Grey, gripping his cutter tightly in one hand and a large chunk of chopped wood in the other, nodded slowly and stepped outside the immediate cabin doorway. He glanced around, the sharp blade gleaming faintly in the morning light as he slowly moved a little further into the surrounding trees, eyes searching the dim undergrowth.
After a tense moment, Grey returned, shaking his head. "You're sure about this? You didn't just imagine it?" His voice was low and cautious, matching the uneasy mood hanging heavy in the fresh air.
Alex nodded silently, the fear and uncertainty still thick inside him, their deepening presence like shadows creeping closer with every passing hour.
After the conversation with Grey ended, Alex retreated to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind swirling with everything he had experienced—Ruby's warning, the haunting lullaby, the feeling of being followed. The unease wouldn't let him rest.
Feeling overwhelmed, Alex suddenly got up to calm his restless thoughts. He reached for his mother's diary—a source of comfort and insight from a time when things had seemed clearer. Turning the pages gently, he sought grounding in her words, hoping to find some solace or understanding.
This moment of quiet reflection was Alex's way of coping with the anxiety and fear pressing in on him. Like many teens facing stress, he found that channeling his worries into familiar rituals and seeking emotional support—here through the diary—helped him face the unknown with a bit more courage.
In the diary, Alex read about his mother's past, revealing a hidden family story filled with tension and secrecy. She wrote about how her family and Alex's father's family had deeply disliked each other, forcing her and Alex's father to date in secret, away from prying eyes.
She also mentioned the early loss of her parents, explaining how she and Grey had been raised by their grandparents. Her words painted a picture of those grandparents as old-fashioned and strict, steeped in ancient beliefs that bordered on dark rituals. They were described as people who firmly believed in curses, rituals, and devil worship—practices that seemed far removed from the modern world Alex knew, yet they cast a long, shadowy influence over the family.
This revelation deepened Alex's understanding of his family's complex and unsettling heritage, opening new questions about the strange occurrences and warnings he faced.
After turning several pages, Alex's eyes caught the familiar symbol—those same strange markings he had seen on the trees in the forest—painted here in the diary. The vivid images and cryptic notes sprawled across the worn pages stirred a complex storm of emotions within him. Just as he was about to delve deeper into the mystery, a call from Grey interrupted his thoughts: "Dinner's ready!"
With a reluctant sigh, Alex closed the diary slowly, the leather cover thudding softly against the bed. His mind still buzzing with unanswered questions, he slid the book under the bed, almost as if trying to hide the secrets it contained. The weight of the discovery hung heavily in the air around him as he rose and made his way downstairs, leaving the whisper of ancient rituals and family shadows behind, at least for the moment.
At dinner, Alex barely touched his food, pushing it around his plate with hollow, distracted eyes. The weight of the day's discoveries and fears lingered in his mind, making even eating feel like a distant chore. Noticing Alex's distant demeanor, Grey cleared his throat to break the heavy silence. "I'll give you a ride to school tomorrow," he said gently.
Alex didn't respond with much more than a half-hearted "Okay," his thoughts still tangled in the symbols he had seen earlier in his mother's diary.
The memory of the diary's strange markings and the dark stories it held had momentarily pushed aside the frightening events of that morning—the feeling of being followed—but the unease was far from gone. Beneath the surface, those symbols haunted him, even as he sat quietly with Grey.