(Ellie)
Few hours prior:
I thought I was dead. I watched as Debbie and my classmates transformed into horrifying versions of themselves, but when I regained consciousness, everything appeared normal again. Yet, a nagging sensation lingered that something was wrong.
James offered his hand to help me lay down on the couch, I saw his hand morph—turning pale and unnaturally thin. Was I hallucinating again? Then it morphed back, and no one notices, not even James.
It's happening again, these visions had haunted me before, and now they seemed to be resurfacing.
Suddenly, the cabin started shaking violently, everybody started panicking trying to get themselves well under the table, I was lucky that they considered my safety in their haste of action.
even though reality felt like it was shifting changing, I couldn't keep focus, on the present, my mind wandered to the past,my eyes were closing, my mind was shutting down, I was going to faint, due to the large amount of stress.My mind was demanding to be shut down, yet I refused! Not at a time like this.
This wasn't the first time I'd felt reality slip. Growing up, I often saw things that others couldn't. During my primary school years, my mother would sometimes look at me strangely, as if doubting my very existence. She believed a ghost was haunting me and insisted that I needed holy water. My mother was deeply religious, a devout Christian, and I tried to follow her faith. However, no amount of prayers seemed to cleanse me of the darkness I felt inside, like a black cat, taken form in a human body.
As high school began, my desire to forge new friendships was thwarted by rumours—echoes from my primary school days followed me. A girl had labelled me a cursed child, claiming I brought nothing but misfortune to those around me. I was branded a plague.
Even though I knew some of these accusations were exaggerated, they still hurt deeply, especially because there was some truth to them: I was labelled as a bad lucky charm. a fact well-known to everyone. Eventually, I moved to a new high school, hoping for a fresh start. I tried to fit in with different groups, and to some extent, it worked. I wasn't naturally sociable; I preferred the solitude of my home, where I could indulge in my passion for movies and television. Whether it was romcoms or horror films, I cherished my time alone, lost in different worlds. However, the new group of girls I met weren't interested in these things. Their conversations revolved around the latest trends and shocking school rumors. At least they weren't talking about me—that was my greatest fear, my biggest nightmare.
Speaking of fears, despite my social anxieties, I yearned for a romantic relationship. But making friends outside of my immediate group seemed nearly impossible. I felt so alone, and to cope, I adopted a foolish, though somewhat logical, mindset: all I needed to do was change into a people pleaser. This didn't mean they would necessarily like me in return, but at least it meant they wouldn't dislike me. From then on, I performed countless favors for others, rarely receiving anything in return. Naturally, this left me feeling resentful and unappreciated, yet at least I wasn't the target of their displeasure.
As for any romantic relationship, the thought of being in a relationship terrified me. I imagined it would be one-sided, with me constantly trying to please someone else without receiving any affection in return. This prospect scared me, but the fear of isolation scared me more. I craved affection and to be loved to be touched, despite knowing it might never come.
That mindset defined me during high school and now, even at this school camp trip. I knew I was cursed. When I looked back at that window and that white pale face, it just proved it. Everything up till now was my fault. It was me; I was the one at fault from the moment I was unconscious, to right now of waking up to see outer space.
Hours flew by, since the so-called rising, of the cabin, everybody was discussing about future plans, and trying to figure out what was happening?The question of continuing and partaking in the Campaign game in the middle of the floating cabin, was only the few of the questions we had?
Once we sat down I notice, something strange something no one else saw. Everybody kept looking at the table and the radiant words, but no one was looking at the person across the table, the so-called realm master's chair. No one noticed the old man smiling at them, except me.
I tried not to look down like the rest; I didn't want that thing to notice or scrutinize me. But by all the evidence I was gathered it seemed like he or it might be the source of this mystical, horror-like scenario—perhaps it had answers, maybe even a way back home. But fear held me back; I didn't want the others to see me as a freak of nature, as if I possessed some sixth sense. So, I kept my gaze fixed on the cards before me, or on James and Maddie who were describing the game format.
My mother also encouraged me to get out of bed and stop watching movies; she was keen on more traditional activities, except perhaps paranormal board games. Interestingly, the only time I didn't seem to encounter bad luck was when I was playing luck-based games, which had become somewhat of a passion for me.
I knew the rules to Dungeons and Dangers. Though not an expert, I was familiar enough with the game. If only I had known earlier that Maddie enjoyed it, perhaps we could have become friends much earlier on, but life happens and mistakes were born between us, and all I can do now is hope and pray nothing goes bad
"Ellie, it's your turn. You've got to look at your cards," someone urged me. Reluctantly, I looked down at the cards in front of me. As I did, I noticed the stare from the old man—a stare that nobody else seemed to notice—landing on me. It appeared that whoever turned their cards next always caught the attention of that thing
Trembling, I tried to steady my hands to flip the cards. I hoped my luck with games wouldn't run out here, I flipped the cards.