As I stepped out into the crisp Cape Town morning, the cool ocean breeze carried the salty scent of the sea, invigorating me instantly. The sun, already high in the sky despite the early hour, cast a warm glow over the city. I placed my black cap on-the one Tristan had gifted me two years ago. It was the only memory I had of him. A wave of nostalgia washed over me. A faint smile crossed my lips as I remembered Tristan's bright smile and infectious laughter. The cap, faded and worn, remained my most treasured possession-a tangible reminder of his kindness.
Tristan had found me wandering the streets-lost, crying, and alone. The memory of that day still lingered, a heavy burden of desperation and hopelessness. But Tristan's warmth and compassion had been a beacon of hope. He took me to his place, and he and Laura cared for me, showing me a love and kindness I thought I'd never experience again. Two years went by, and just when everything seemed to be going great, Tristan's life was cut short in a tragic head-on collision with a bus. The pain of that day still felt like an open wound.
At his funeral, I remembered the sea of faces and the somber atmosphere. Standing near the back, trying to blend in, I overheard Mrs. Campbell whispering to someone, "Being a widow at such a young age must be hard." I felt a surge of anger, infuriated by her insensitive words. Her comment, though likely meant to be sympathetic, felt like a thoughtless reminder of my loss. I mean-our loss. Surely Laura was hurting more than I was. She did well to hide it, but there were nights I could hear her sobbing. Yet as soon as I opened my door to go to her, she would fall silent-even ignoring my knocks on her door.
I took a deep breath, pushing aside the memories, and focused on the present. I quickly used my only arm to sling my school bag on; the familiar weight was comforting. The school wasn't far, and the neighborhood wasn't bad-a rare advantage in Cape Town. As I walked, the vibrant sounds and colors of the small town surrounded me, but my mind lingered on Tristan. The ache of his loss still felt like a heavy weight. Little did I know, that sense of unease was only the beginning.
Even as I walked to school, I felt a strange sensation, like someone was following me. But it wasn't quite that. The feeling would grow, then vanish abruptly. At one point, I felt like I was surrounded by a crowd, but only one person was actually nearby-a homeless man who always sat in front of a small house, never moving from that exact spot. Then came the other feeling. The one where it felt like I was standing in a dark room. These episodes only lasted a second or two, but for the past month, the unease had been growing.
That same dread had seeped into my dreams. I'd find myself running from the Unknown, as I called it. I tried to make out its shape or form, but I never got the chance to confront it. The dream always ended the same way-with me consumed by an overwhelming fear.
As I stood before the school entrance, a mix of emotions swirled inside me. Excitement wrestled with nerves, and a hint of fear lingered like a shadow in the corner of my mind. I hadn't been to school in over a month and a half. Nothing seemed to have changed. Mostly, I wondered if I was still part of the gymnastics team. The entrance was framed by two large trees, their branches stretching toward the sky like nature's own cathedral. The air smelled of blooming flowers, and I could hear distant birdsong.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of overwhelm that came with not knowing where to go. Deciding to take the plunge, I stepped forward, my feet clicking on the stone-tiled pathway leading to the building. My grand entrance didn't last-I tripped over the gate's railing and landed awkwardly on my knees. Books spilled out of my bag, and I groaned. What a start to the day.
The sound of my books hitting the stone echoed through the quiet morning. A few students turned to stare, and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. As I scrambled to gather my belongings, I noticed two students watching from a short distance. They exchanged a glance before one of them-a boy with messy hair-bent down to help me.
"Hey, need a hand?" he asked, voice warm and friendly.
As he looked into my eyes, a sense of calm washed over me. His blue, ocean-like eyes seemed to see right through me. Yet instead of feeling exposed, I felt... peaceful. We locked eyes for a moment. The world around us faded.
Then he broke eye contact and helped me to my feet.
Once we were both standing, he smiled and introduced himself. "I'm Jayden." He was tall-about my height-with short straight hair. He wore a white shirt and black trousers, no tie, looking effortlessly relaxed. His friend, by contrast, was neatly dressed, also with short hair.
Before Jayden could introduce him, the other boy called out, "Jayden, we have to hurry-we're going to be late!"
Jayden flashed an apologetic smile. "Sorry, nice meeting you!" Then he hurried off with his friend. But just before they disappeared around the corner, I could've sworn his friend looked at me strangely-almost like he was confused. Maybe he thought I was new? I had been gone for a while, after all.
As I turned to leave, I spotted a book lying on the ground. I picked it up, and the moment my skin touched the cover, a strange sensation passed through me. It felt like the book was humming or vibrating-something I couldn't explain. There was something off about it.
I turned the book over in my hands. It was deep green, with an engraving of a sparrow and a sword on the cover. Silver trimmed the edges, and the leather felt raw, untreated-ancient. The pages were yellowed and crackling. The book looked expensive. I couldn't help but wonder who it belonged to.
I flipped open the first page and saw a drawing of a woman in rags. She appeared to be floating, arms stretched outward, while shadowy hands clawed toward her but never touched. Her face showed raw desperation, reaching for something just out of sight. I turned to the next page-then jolted as a shock ran through my fingertips. I dropped the book out of instinct.
And then, without thinking, I picked it up again. Wait... why did I do that? The thought vanished from my mind as quickly as it came. I began wondering who the book belonged to. Maybe Jayden dropped it while helping me? Or maybe he set it down and forgot?
Either way, I felt an odd urgency to return it. I tucked the book into my bag and set off, following the path deeper into the school grounds. The trail led to a set of double doors-probably the school hall. As I neared, I felt a pull, like something was drawing me in.
"They're here," I thought suddenly. But why was I so sure? They could've gone around to the field.
I stood frozen in front of the doors, uncertain. But I was convinced Jayden and his friend-Nkosi, I'd learn later-had gone inside.
I reached out and pushed the door open a crack. Peeking inside, I let my eyes adjust to the dim light. It was a typical school theater-rows of seats facing a small stage.
But the moment I stepped in, a chill swept through me like nothing I'd ever felt. It was as if an icy grip had wrapped around my body, threatening to drag me down.
And then... the scenery around me began to shift and distort.