As his eyes began to blur, the forest seemed to further distort and blend into a terrifying maze, merging reality with his overwhelming emotions. In this desolate moment, Michael found himself surrendering to the fear and uncertainty that clouded his young mind, feeling utterly small and helpless in the vastness of the mysterious forest.As the intensity of Michael's nightmare reached its peak, his eyes suddenly fluttered open, and reality slowly seeped in. However, instead of finding himself lost in a forest, he found himself seated on a bus, surrounded by familiar faces. Confusion washed over him as he realized he was now fifteen years old, dressed in a school uniform. "Oh yeah, that weird dream again," Michael murmured under his breadth ", how long has it been?, three weeks without dreaming of anything".Blinking away the remnants of the dream, Michael glanced around the bus, his gaze landing on a captivating girl who sat a few seats away. She, too, wore the same school uniform, and her presence caught his attention. Something about her seemed ethereal, as if her eyes held the power to penetrate his very soul.Her eyes were a mesmerizing color, akin to the depths of a calm sea, simultaneously comforting and captivating. They seemingly held a depth of understanding that intrigued Michael, making it difficult for him to avert his gaze. He couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull towards her, an inexplicable connection that remained unspoken.A smile graced the girl's lips as their eyes met, the curve of her mouth radiating warmth and sweetness. In that moment, the weight of his previous fear and confusion seemed to dissipate, replaced by a fleeting sense of ease. Observing her carefree demeanor and bright expression, Michael wondered how she could exude such joy and light, contrasting his own inner turbulence.Unwilling to engage in further eye contact, Michael quickly shifted his focus forward, attempting to bury his lingering curiosity. As he gazed ahead, the bus's motion serving as a backdrop to his thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder about the enigmatic girl and the captivating energy she brought with her.Finding solace in his art, Michael retrieved his sketchpad from his bag and delicately began to capture the essence of the captivating girl. With skilled hands and a keen eye, the lines flowed effortlessly across the paper, bringing her to life in shades and strokes. His talent allowed him to depict her with remarkable accuracy, capturing both her outward beauty and the mysterious depth that seemed to radiate from within.The bus jolted to a halt, bringing Michael's attention back to the present. He looked out the window and read the faded sign, revealing the name of a little mining village: [Bikita Minerals]. As the door creaked open, a middle-aged man stepped onto the bus, his weary gaze scanning the interior. The man's rugged appearance contrasted the serenity of the village, hinting at a life lived amidst the grit and toil of the mines.Curiosity mingled with a tinge of apprehension as Michael's eyes met the man's. His presence seemed to carry an air of wisdom and experience, leaving Michael to wonder about the stories etched on his weathered face. The girl, now frozen in his sketch, temporarily forgotten, as his attention shifted to the entrance of this unexpected character.As the man settled next to Michael in the only available seat, the bus roared back to life, continuing its journey through the winding road. Within the confined space, the atmosphere held a sense of intrigue, as the lives of these passengers intersected within the confines of the bus. Uncertainties lingered, awaiting the next turn of events, as the journey ventured further into the unknown.The man's weary frame filled the seat next to Michael, his dusty clothes brushing against the neatly pressed school uniform, leaving smudges of grime in their wake. Torn and rugged, his attire told a tale of hardship and arduous labor in the unforgiving depths of the mines. The traces of soot and dirt seemed almost symbolic of the burdens he carried.Clutching a satchel tightly against his chest, as if its contents held a fragile lifeline, the man's grip conveyed a desperate need to protect what lay within. Michael couldn't help but be drawn to the satchel, its worn exterior suggesting that it had witnessed hardships of its own. However, a quiet caution within him restrained his curiosity, preventing him from inquiring about its importance.In the midst of their silent coexistence, the man's gaze shifted towards Michael, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and sternness. As if sensing the unspoken inquiry, he whispered, "Don't look at it, boy, this is nothing but evil." The weight of his words hung in the air, urging Michael to heed the warning and resist the temptation to pry.Yet, a nagging curiosity pushed against the boundaries of Michael's resolve. His eyes, scanning the man's torn clothing, landed upon a seepage of blood, staining the fabric beneath. It was then that his gaze fell upon the corner of the satchel, marked by an ominous smudge of the same dark crimson.A mix of concern and heightened intrigue stirred within Michael, yearning for answers ", who is this guy?, What happened to him?, What is in the bag" all Michael did was speculate at this point. However, the unspoken plea in the man's gaze urged him to respect the silence that surrounded them, to refrain from probing further. With a heavy heart, Michael redirected his attention to the passing scenery outside, grappling with the enigmatic presence of the man and the secrets he carried. Lost in his thoughts and absorbed by the unfolding events, Michael momentarily forgot about the sketch in his hands, his attention fixed on the world outside. Beside him, the man fidgeted anxiously, his frail demeanor betraying a sense of fear and unease. There was something hauntingly vulnerable about his presence, as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.