I wake up to the soft light of morning spilling through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. For once, the usual heaviness in my chest is lighter, almost absent. My heart feels uncharacteristically light as I stretch, the cool sheets tangled around my legs. There's a sense of anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing something—or someone—is waiting for you.
Today feels different. Today feels like a new start.
I throw off the covers and quickly change into my school clothes, the excitement bubbling inside me. It's ridiculous, really. A simple conversation, a few hours spent with Justin in the library yesterday, and suddenly I'm looking forward to seeing him again. But I can't deny the warmth in my chest at the thought of him—how easy it felt to talk to him, how much I wanted to know him better. For the first time in a while, it feels good to have something to look forward to.
I take a moment to stare at myself in the mirror, adjusting my hair before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs. The smell of fresh coffee wafts through the kitchen, and Mom's humming softly to herself as she flips pancakes. I smile at the sight of her, the simplicity of the morning calming my racing thoughts.
"Good morning, monkey," she says with a smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Big plans for today?"
I hesitate for just a moment before answering, my mind already elsewhere. "Nothing too big. Just school, you know. Same as usual."
But the truth is, today feels different. The thought of seeing Justin again makes my heart race a little faster than it should. It's been a long time since I felt a spark of excitement like this.
I grab my backpack and give my mom a quick hug before heading out the door. The air is crisp, the streets quieter than usual. For a moment, it feels like the world is holding its breath, waiting for something.
I try to focus on the walk to school, but my mind keeps drifting back to yesterday—the way Justin looked at me when he asked if I was okay, the softness in his voice when he told me he was here for me. It felt real. And that's something I'm not sure I'm used to.
I arrive at school with a few minutes to spare, my steps quickening as I move toward the entrance. I glance around, searching for any sign of him. I want to see him, talk to him—just a little longer, just a little more. I'm not sure why, but the idea of spending more time with him feels like a breath of fresh air, something I've been missing without realizing it.
As I round the corner, I spot Justin standing by the lockers, his back to me as he talks to a few friends. When he turns and catches my eye, a smile spreads across his face, the kind that makes my heart do a little flip.
"Hey, Sarah!" he calls out, his voice warm, the usual playfulness in his tone making me smile. "What's up?"
"Not much," I reply, trying to keep my voice casual, though I can feel the flutter of excitement in my chest. "Just… ready for the day, I guess."
He steps a little closer, and I can smell the faint scent of his cologne, the closeness making my heart race in a way I don't quite understand. He gives me a sideways glance. "Good to hear. So, how's the project coming along? You getting anywhere with that creepy town?"
I laugh, the sound of it a little more genuine than I expected. "Yeah, it's coming along. I think we're really onto something with the whole 'town's alive' idea. It's definitely a little… offbeat, but it could be interesting."
Justin's eyes light up, and I can see the spark of excitement in them. "I love that. You're really good at this whole 'mystery' thing, aren't you?"
I feel a slight blush creep up my neck, but I try to brush it off. "What can I say? I've got a knack for it."
He smirks, stepping even closer. "I think you're being modest. I'm just lucky to be on your team."
The words linger between us, and for a moment, it's as if the noise of the hallway fades away. It's just him and me, the tension between us almost palpable. But then the bell rings, breaking the moment, and I feel a strange mix of disappointment and relief.
"Well, we better get to class," I say, my voice a little breathless as I gather my things. "I'll see you later?"
"Definitely," he says, giving me a grin that sends a little shiver down my spine. "See you then."
The school day passes in a blur, my mind half on the lessons, the other half replaying the conversation I had with Justin in the hallway. There's a lingering warmth in my chest that I can't shake, the feeling of his smile and the way his eyes seemed to lock with mine, even in the chaos of the hallway. It's like he knows exactly what to say, how to make me feel like we're the only two people in the room. It's distracting in the best way.
By the time the final bell rings, signaling the end of the day, I'm already on my feet, eager to get out of class and find Justin again. I quickly gather my things, trying to shake off the strange mix of nerves and excitement swirling in my stomach. I step into the hall, scanning the crowd for his familiar face.
When I find him near his locker, talking to a few friends, my pulse quickens. He catches my eye almost immediately, and his face lights up with that smile I've come to recognize—a little playful, a little charming. He waves at me.
"Hey, Sarah!" he calls, his voice cutting through the noise of the hallway.
"Hey!" I respond, walking over to him, a little quicker than I intended. I stop just in front of him, feeling the familiar flutter in my chest. "So, what's the plan for today? You heading home to work on the project?"
Justin nods, brushing a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I was planning on it. I still have a few more ideas I want to run by you. How about you?"
I feel the excitement stir again. I've been thinking about our project all day, and the idea of working more on it with him is definitely the highlight of my afternoon. But then I hesitate, wondering if it would be too forward.
"Actually," I begin, the words coming out faster than I thought, "why don't you come over to my place later? We can work on the project some more, and I could use a little help brainstorming. I was thinking about 5 p.m., if that works for you?"
For a moment, Justin just looks at me, a little surprised but not in a bad way. His expression softens, and he gives me a genuine smile that makes my heart flutter again.
"That sounds great," he says, his voice warm. "I'd be happy to help. See you then?"
I nod, smiling a little too widely, but I can't seem to stop myself. "Yeah, see you then."
We both stand there for a moment, neither of us moving, the words lingering in the air between us. It feels like the day's excitement has just heightened in the simplest exchange, and the idea of being with him outside of school, working together, makes my heart race again.
"Alright," Justin says after a beat, finally turning toward the exit. "I'll let you go. I'll see you at five."
I watch him walk away, the way his shoulders move with each step, the easy grace in his stride. I try to focus, to calm my pulse, but the anticipation lingers. It's just a simple study session—nothing more, nothing less. And yet, for some reason, I feel like there's more to it. Like something is shifting, something new, and maybe I'm starting to let it happen.
******
When I get home, the house is eerily quiet. The door creaks softly as I push it open, the scent of something baking lingering faintly in the air. It's empty—Mom's car is gone, which means she's probably out running errands again. I sigh, a small wave of relief washing over me. As much as I've been enjoying the time with Justin, part of me still feels like I'm walking a fine line with everything.
I toss my bag on the couch, the sudden stillness around me making the weight of the day settle on my shoulders. My thoughts are still buzzing with the conversation we had at school. I can't stop thinking about how easy it felt to talk to him, to share ideas, and how much I want to spend more time with him. But I know I need to clear my head, calm my nerves, and get ready for when Justin arrives.
I glance at the clock—there's still time. I'll take a quick nap, I think, maybe a short break to rest my mind before diving into the project again.
I head upstairs to my room, pulling the blankets back and climbing into bed. The room is cool, the light dim, and as I close my eyes, the exhaustion from the day settles in quickly. I try to shake off the weight of my thoughts, but I'm too tired. My body gives in, and soon I drift off.
The silence is broken suddenly as I find myself falling deeper into another dream. But this one isn't like the calm void of sleep—no, this one is heavy, dark, and pressing down on me. I open my eyes in the dream, but everything is warped, like I'm seeing through fogged glass. The air is thick with an unnatural chill, and the shadows around me seem to stretch in impossible directions. The forest from before. The one with the dark trees, the vines that tried to trap me. It's all here again, but this time, it's worse.
I take a hesitant step forward, the ground squelching beneath my shoes, slick with something I don't want to think about. My heart races as the whispering begins—low and disjointed, like the wind through dead branches. My pulse quickens, and my feet feel frozen to the ground.
Suddenly, there's a figure ahead, cloaked in shadow. I can't make out their face, but I know they're watching me. The figure raises a hand, pointing toward something in the distance. I follow the direction of their finger, my breath hitching when I see it—an old wooden chest, just like the one in my dream before, but this time it's not hidden under roots. It's open.
A soft silver glow spills from it, casting strange, elongated shadows around the clearing. The pendant from my nightmare—the one that haunted me last time—is inside the box. The silver crescent moon glows faintly, pulsing in time with my heartbeats.
I reach out, my fingers brushing the edge of the box, but before I can touch the pendant, a voice cuts through the air, sharp and clear, like a warning.
"The blood of Fae… the price of truth…"
The words echo, hollow and cold.
The shadows shift, closing in on me, their presence suffocating. I try to move, but my feet won't budge. The vines, now thick and black, wrap around my ankles again, pulling me down, dragging me toward the chest. I scream, but no sound escapes my lips.
The figure is gone now, but their presence remains, like a dark cloud hovering over me. My hand grasps for the pendant, but as my fingers finally close around it, the forest shakes violently. The shadows seem to scream, but it's an empty sound, an unrelenting void.
I wrench myself awake with a sharp gasp, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat. My heart hammers in my chest, my breath coming in ragged bursts. The images of the chest, the pendant, and the shadowed figure linger, fading slowly into the corners of my mind, but the dread in my chest doesn't leave.
I try to steady my breathing, gripping the sheets tightly as I blink away the remnants of the nightmare. The sense of unease presses down on me, heavier than it was before, as if something is pushing its way into my reality, just out of reach.
I swallow hard, looking around the dim room, and for a moment, I'm not sure if I'm still dreaming.
I reach for my phone on the bedside table, checking the time. 4:45 p.m.
Justin will be here in 15 minutes.
I sit there for a moment longer, staring at my reflection in the window, the lingering shadow of the nightmare still wrapped around me. It's like I can feel the weight of the pendant in my palm, the chilling sense that I'm tied to something dark—something I can't escape.
But I don't have time for this. Not now.
I take a deep breath, pushing the unsettling feelings aside as best I can. Justin will be here soon, and I can't let him see that something's wrong.
I shake my head, forcing myself to get up. I have to stay focused. The project. The story. Maybe if I can keep my mind occupied, I'll stop thinking about what's lurking just beyond my reach.
*******
As I finish composing myself, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare, I hear the soft knock at the door.
I glance at the clock—5:00 p.m. on the dot. I quickly smooth my hair and take a deep breath before heading downstairs to answer it.
When I open the door, I'm met with Justin standing there, holding his usual easy smile. But his eyes—there's something different about them today. They scan me quickly, and it doesn't take him long to notice that something's off. His brow furrows slightly as he steps inside, his gaze not leaving mine.
"Hey, Sarah," he greets me, his voice softer than usual. "You okay?"
I swallow hard, forcing a smile, but the unease from the nightmare still clings to me. "Yeah, just tired," I reply, stepping aside to let him in. "Come on in. We can head upstairs to work on the project."
As we make our way up to my room, Justin's quiet, almost too observant. He notices everything—the slight stiffness in my movements, the way I keep my distance, the way my fingers twitch as if they want to do something but don't know what.
Once we're inside my room, I sit down on my bed, feeling the weight of the nightmare still pressing against me. Justin sits across from me, his gaze steady as he watches me.
"Sarah," he begins, his voice gentle but insistent, "You're not okay. What's going on? You can talk to me."
The sincerity in his eyes makes my heart beat faster. I want to open up, to tell him everything. But there's hesitation—a wall inside me that hasn't quite come down yet. I take a deep breath, trying to push past it.
"I… I've been having these dreams," I say, my voice quiet. "They're not just dreams. They feel so real, like I'm actually there. I keep seeing this dark forest… and this box. There's a pendant in it—this silver crescent moon. And these symbols, Justin, they're so familiar. I don't know why, but I feel like I've seen them before. They haunt me."
I feel the words spill out of me in a rush, and when I stop, I can't quite meet his gaze. The weight of the truth feels so heavy, like I'm carrying something that doesn't belong to me. The room is silent except for my breathing, and I can feel the air between us thickening with tension.
Justin doesn't immediately respond. He just sits there, looking at me with that unreadable expression.
I look up, my voice hesitant. "There's something else. I asked my mom about it—about my past, about the symbols—and she… she didn't want to talk about it. She won't tell me anything, Justin. But the way she reacted, it's like she's hiding something. I don't know what to think anymore. It's like I'm losing grip on everything, and it's driving me crazy."
The silence stretches between us, and I feel a lump in my throat. I thought I'd feel relieved by sharing this with someone, but instead, I feel like I've opened a door that's only led to more uncertainty.
Justin leans forward slightly, his elbows on his knees. His expression is more distant now, and I can't quite place the look in his eyes. He's listening, but there's a detachment to him that makes my chest tighten. I want to ask him if he knows something, anything that could explain all of this.
"I understand," he says finally, his voice low. "That sounds… unsettling. It's hard when you feel like you're chasing something that's just out of reach."
I nod, my hands trembling slightly in my lap. But there's something about the way he says it—like he knows more than he's letting on. I can see it in his eyes, the way he's holding something back, and it makes me want to pull away again. I don't know if I'm ready for the answers he might have, but I need to know.
"Justin, do you know something?" I ask, unable to stop myself. "You're acting like you understand… like you've seen these symbols before. Do you know something about them?"
His gaze flickers away from mine for a split second, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. I watch him carefully, my heart beating faster in the silence that follows.
"I… I can't say I know exactly what they mean," he admits finally, his voice a little quieter now. "But I've seen symbols like them before. In old texts, ancient manuscripts. They're tied to… certain things. Dangerous things. I want to tell you more, but…" He trails off, his expression now guarded.
I feel a sharp pang of frustration. There's that wall again, the one that makes it impossible to know what's really going on behind his eyes. It's as though he wants to tell me everything, but something's holding him back.
"Dangerous things?" I repeat, my voice sharp with impatience. "What things, Justin? What aren't you telling me?"
He runs a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips. "I can't explain everything right now. But… I do know that these symbols, the pendant, the dream—it's all connected. There's something bigger at play here, Sarah. And I think we can figure it out. But it's not going to be easy."
The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, and I feel a new surge of determination. He's right. If we're going to get to the bottom of this, we need to work together.
I look at him, my voice steady but filled with purpose. "What do we do next?"
Justin meets my gaze, a flicker of resolve crossing his face. "We'll figure out what the symbols mean. We'll find out what they're trying to tell you. And I'll help you through this, I promise."
I feel a sense of relief wash over me, but it's accompanied by a nagging feeling, a question I can't yet voice: Is Justin really telling me everything? Or is there still something he's holding back?
But for now, I have to trust him. We're in this together, whether he's ready to share everything or not.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Justin's promise to help me feel like a weight lifted, but the lingering doubt gnaws at the back of my mind. There's so much he hasn't said, and the uncertainty is like a shadow I can't quite shake. But for now, I need to focus on what I do know—he's willing to help me uncover the truth, even if I don't have all the answers.
"I'm glad you'll help," I say, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "But you've got to understand—I can't shake the feeling that there's something more to this, something that goes beyond just symbols and dreams. It's bigger than that. It feels like—"
"Like everything is connected," Justin finishes for me, his voice quiet. "I know." His eyes lock onto mine, something in them darkening, but not in a way that makes me feel unsafe. It's more like… understanding. A shared weight between us.
I nod slowly. "Yeah. Exactly. I've felt it for a while now, but every time I try to get closer to the truth, something pulls me back."
He shifts in his seat, the distance between us feeling less noticeable now, but the tension still hangs in the air. He seems to think for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. "What if I told you that I've felt the same way? That I know exactly what it's like to chase something you can't quite reach? That's why I want to help you."
My heart skips, and for a moment, I think I see a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. Something real. But it's gone in an instant, replaced with the same guarded expression he's worn since he walked through the door. I can't decide if it's a glimpse of the truth or just another layer of his own walls.
"Justin," I start hesitantly, then stop myself. He's offering help, and I don't want to push him too hard. I don't know if I'm ready to ask for the truth he's keeping from me—yet.
Instead, I choose a safer route. "So, what now? How do we start?"
He leans back slightly, relaxing just enough to allow his usual easy smile to return. "We start small," he says, running his hand through his hair. "We look into the symbols. We find their meaning. And once we've got that, we can figure out the rest. One step at a time."
I take a deep breath and nod, a small sense of relief washing over me. I don't have to do this alone anymore. With Justin by my side, maybe I can finally start unraveling the mystery of my past.
He catches my eye again, his gaze lingering just a little longer than usual. "We'll figure it out together, Sarah," he repeats, as if to reassure both of us.
Something about the way he says it makes me believe him, even though my instincts are screaming that there's more going on than either of us is saying.