Chapter 1: The Unheard Cry

Jason stared at the ceiling, his body still under the weight of the blankets. His phone vibrated on the bedside table, a buzz that broke the silence of the morning. Without looking, he reached over, swiping it open to read the message. His heart sank, though his face remained expressionless. Tyler, his best friend since childhood, was gone. Suicide.

For a moment, Jason just lay there, the words repeating in his mind. Tyler. Suicide. Gone. He sat up, the room around him still bathed in the dull gray of the early morning. His breath was steady, his eyes calm, but deep within him, something cracked.

"Jason?" His mother's voice called from downstairs. "Breakfast is ready."

He blinked, shifting his gaze to the door. His legs swung over the side of the bed, and he moved mechanically, as if nothing had changed. But everything had.

When Jason entered the kitchen, his parents looked up. His father was reading the paper, his mother stirring eggs at the stove. The clatter of dishes, the hum of the fridge, it all felt so normal—too normal.

"You okay, son?" His father asked, looking up from his coffee.

Jason nodded. "Yeah."

They didn't press him. He preferred it that way. There was nothing to say that could pull the blade of grief from his chest. He could hear his mother's small sigh as she placed the plate in front of him, but he didn't touch it. His appetite had vanished with the news.

After breakfast, Jason went outside to meet his friends. They stood under the old oak tree where they used to hang out—Damion, Emma, Daniel, Sarah, and Taylor. Taylor's eyes were red, her face pale and broken. She looked like she hadn't slept, dark circles bruising her skin. The others stood silently, unsure how to comfort her.

"Jason…" Taylor's voice cracked as she stepped forward, her body trembling. "Why? Why did he…?" She couldn't finish the sentence.

Jason's eyes softened for a brief second, the crack in his facade barely visible. He placed a hand on Taylor's shoulder, but still said nothing. His silence, though cold, was the only way he knew how to cope.

"Tyler…" Taylor sobbed, collapsing into his chest. "He didn't say anything. He just… he just left me."

The others stood around them, a quiet circle of shared sorrow. Emma wiped away her own tears while Daniel and Damion exchanged worried glances. Sarah wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold herself together.

"None of us saw this coming," Damion muttered. "We were with him just last night. He seemed fine. He laughed at my dumb jokes." His voice broke as he said the last word. "How did we miss it?"

Jason clenched his jaw, suppressing the wave of guilt rising within him. He should have seen something, anything. But Tyler had hidden it too well, behind a mask none of them noticed until it was too late.

"It doesn't make sense," Sarah whispered. "Tyler was always the strong one. He… he wouldn't just…"

"He did," Taylor said, her voice fragile. "He didn't tell me. He didn't… he didn't tell anyone."

The wind blew softly through the trees, and for a moment, it almost sounded like a whisper, like Tyler's voice calling from somewhere far away. Jason glanced toward the woods at the edge of the park, his eyes narrowing. Something about the silence felt wrong.

"We need to remember him," Emma said, her voice trembling. "The good things. We can't let this… define who he was."

Jason nodded slightly, his hand still resting on Taylor's shoulder. Yet, even as they stood together, something gnawed at him—a feeling that Tyler's death wasn't the end of the story. There was something unfinished, lurking beneath the surface.

As the day grew darker, the group dispersed one by one, leaving Jason alone with Taylor beneath the oak tree. She wiped her face, trying to pull herself together.

"Jason…" she whispered. "There's something I didn't tell the others. I found something in his room…"

Jason turned to her, his stoic mask cracking just slightly.

"What did you find?"

"It was… a note. Not like a suicide note, though." Her hands trembled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "It's like… it's like he was talking to someone else. Something… else."

Jason unfolded the note, his eyes scanning the strange, cryptic writing. His blood ran cold. Tyler's words spoke of shadows, voices that whispered to him in the night, things no one else could hear. He described being watched, being followed. And then, at the bottom, the last line sent a shiver down Jason's spine.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't keep them away any longer."

Jason stared at the note, his heart pounding in his chest. Tyler's death wasn't just a tragedy. It was a warning. Something had been haunting his friend, something that had now shifted its gaze to them.

The wind picked up again, that same eerie whisper brushing past Jason's ear, as if Tyler's voice was still out there, trying to tell him one last secret.