FLASHBACK

Y/N sat perched on the dismembered tire, the sketchbook resting comfortably in her lap as the party buzzed around her. The laughter and low hum of conversation blended into the background like white noise, creating a comforting barrier against the chaos. This gathering felt overwhelming, yet she found solace in her own little world, observing the scenes unfolding before her. It was the first time she had drawn anyone so naturally, without thought or hesitation. Normally, the act of sketching required a conscious choice, a deliberate moment of inspiration. But today, it felt strange yet liberating, like she was exploring a new side of herself.

She hadn’t meant to draw them, really. Yet somehow, she did. It just happened, as if her hand had moved on its own, guided by instinct rather than intention. The pencil glided across the page, capturing the essence of each friend with an ease that surprised her. Drawing was easier than talking, easier than joining the group and pretending to feel fully immersed in the noise. It had been a while since she’d drawn anything, but the familiar sensation of the pencil in her hand rekindled a passion that had lain dormant. It felt natural again, like slipping into a well-worn sweater or finding a long-lost favorite song.

The sketches unfolded before her eyes as she flipped through the pages, each one revealing a story and a connection she cherished. She paused on the first sketch of Ashlyn, her vibrant red hair flowing like a river of fire, standing out even in the crowd. Y/N had captured the quiet strength in Ashlyn’s expression, a reflection of the resilience that lay just beneath the surface.

Next came Logan, hunched over slightly, his thoughtful gaze seeming to penetrate the noise around him. Y/N had illustrated his softness with delicate strokes, revealing the gentle nature that often went unnoticed. She could almost hear the quiet hum of his thoughts, each line on the page resonating with the stillness he carried within.

Ben was next, depicted in a moment of quiet contemplation, arms crossed over his chest. The solidity of his posture conveyed an unyielding strength that grounded her, and she felt a sense of comfort knowing he was always there, even in silence. His furrowed brow spoke volumes about the complexity of his feelings, an intricate puzzle she was still trying to decipher.

Then, she turned to Aiden, a whirlwind of energy frozen in time. Y/N had captured him mid-gesture, his animated expression bursting with life. She remembered how he brought a spark to every gathering, his laughter infectious. The wildness in his sketch mirrored the thrill he brought to their lives, a reminder of the joy he infused into even the simplest moments.

Next was Tyler, the anger and frustration in his features drawn with raw intensity. Y/N had worked hard to portray the layers beneath his abrasive exterior—the soft heart she believed lay hidden within. It was challenging, but she wanted to illustrate that he was more than his bravado, that he cared deeply for those around him, even when he struggled to show it.

Finally, she landed on Taylor, the light of the group. Y/N had sketched her with an open smile, the kindness radiating from the page almost palpable. Taylor’s warmth was a balm for everyone, and Y/N felt a surge of admiration as she looked at the drawing, wishing she could emulate that same comforting presence.

As Y/N continued to flip through her sketches, she felt a mix of pride and vulnerability wash over her. Each drawing was not just a reflection of her friends but a testament to the bonds they shared. In that moment, surrounded by laughter and life, she realized that these sketches were more than just images; they were fragments of her heart laid bare on paper, a visual diary of her emotions and connections.

But then, as the vibrant colors of the sunset blurred in her vision, she felt a sudden clash of beauty and despair that left her feeling more lost than ever. The sounds of laughter continued to swell around her, but all she could feel was the emptiness echoing within as she silently pleaded for someone to notice her, to reach out, and pull her back into the warmth of their world.

"You good?" Ashlyn asked, her voice steady yet unusually gentle. It wasn’t the kind of question someone asked just to fill silence; she genuinely wanted to know. Y/N hadn’t even seen her approach until she noticed the shadow looming beside her, her gaze focused on the ground. Ashlyn's quiet footsteps had gone unnoticed, a soft presence that contrasted sharply with the raucous laughter of the party.

When Y/N looked up, she was startled to see Ashlyn standing there, her slate-green eyes holding a soft but knowing gaze. Her expression wasn’t just concerned—it was understanding, as though she could see straight through Y/N's defenses. The noisy chaos of the party seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them in this moment of unguarded vulnerability. Ashlyn's gaze fell on the open sketchbook, and Y/N noticed a flicker of recognition cross her friend’s face as she caught sight of her own figure captured on the page.

Y/N let out a nervous laugh, closing her book and mustering a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, just... taking a break," she replied, her tone light but unconvincing. The slight tremble in her voice betrayed the truth she didn’t want to admit, even to herself. Quickly, she deflected. "What about you? Shouldn’t you be out there enjoying the party?"

Ashlyn tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied Y/N. The warmth of the moment enveloped them both, and for the first time that evening, Y/N felt the weight of her solitude begin to lift, if only just a little.

Ashlyn let out a small sigh, sitting on the adjacent tire beside Y/N. Her presence was comforting in its simplicity, as if she understood that sometimes words weren’t needed. "Honestly?" Ashlyn said, her voice low enough that it felt like a secret. "I needed a break from the noise, too. Crowds can be... a lot for me." She shrugged, but Y/N could hear the weight behind her words. Ashlyn's usual confidence was there, but so was something more fragile, a vulnerability she rarely showed. For once, her armor wasn’t quite so impenetrable.

Y/N looked at her, surprised. "I didn’t think this kind of thing would bother you," she admitted. "You always seem so... in control. Like you know exactly what you need and how to handle it."

Ashlyn’s lips twitched into a small, almost self-deprecating smile. "I guess I’ve just had a lot of practice knowing when I’ve had enough." She paused, her eyes flickering back to the group of friends in the distance. "But that doesn’t mean I don’t get overwhelmed, too."

Y/N’s admiration for Ashlyn swelled, but this time it wasn’t solely because of her strength or leadership. It was because Ashlyn wasn’t pretending to be anything she wasn’t in that moment. She was simply herself, unguarded, and that was something Y/N deeply respected.

"Yeah," Y/N said quietly, her voice more sincere now. "I get that." She glanced at Ashlyn, feeling an unexpected sense of connection. "I admire that about you, though. The way you just... know yourself. You know when to take a step back."

Ashlyn didn’t reply immediately, but her slight nod and the softening of her features were answer enough. They sat in shared silence, the party continuing on without them, and for the first time all night, Y/N didn’t feel so alone.

A wave of empathy washed over Y/N, resonating deeply with Ashlyn’s admission. The vulnerability Ashlyn had shown made Y/N feel less isolated, and in that moment, she couldn’t help but open up herself. "I guess we all have our battles," Y/N said softly. "But right now, I just can’t shake this feeling... like something bad is going to happen."

Ashlyn’s brows furrowed, her concern deepening as she tilted her head slightly. "What do you mean?"

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her thoughts, the weight of her anxiety pressing down harder with every word. "I’m worried about the plan for tonight," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I've been thinking—if we were to fall asleep here, wouldn’t that affect our world in some way? We already know we're impacting our reality, but what about the people we love? The phantom world is dangerous. I can’t let our parents get involved in this mess, especially mine."

Ashlyn straightened, her body language shifting to reflect the seriousness of Y/N's words. Her expression remained gentle, but the gravity of the situation settled between them like a thick fog. "I understand," she said, her tone imbued with quiet strength. "Believe me, I do. But we’ve handled things before without involving anyone outside the group. We’ve faced some pretty serious threats and come out on the other side."

"But what if we can’t control it this time?" Y/N’s voice wavered, her anxiety bubbling to the surface like an uncontrollable tide. "What if something slips through, and our families actually get caught in the crossfire? I can’t enjoy anything when I’m constantly worrying about what might happen. It’s like this shadow over everything."

Ashlyn’s gaze softened as she observed the distress etched on Y/N’s face. She shifted closer, closing the gap between them, a silent acknowledgment of the fear and uncertainty swirling in the air. Ashlyn wasn’t the type to offer hollow reassurances; her grounding presence was a balm for Y/N’s frayed nerves. "Listen, Y/N," she began, her voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of urgency. "Worrying won’t change what happens. If we spend all our time scared of what could go wrong, we’ll never actually live. I know it’s hard, but we need to find a balance between being cautious and letting ourselves experience this moment."

With a gentle touch, Ashlyn reached out, her hand brushing against Y/N’s arm—a small but powerful gesture that anchored her in the here and now. The warmth of Ashlyn's hand spread through Y/N like a lifeline, grounding her swirling thoughts. "I promise you, we’ll handle it—whatever happens," Ashlyn reassured, her eyes fierce yet tender. "But right now, we’re at a party. Let’s at least try to enjoy it."

Y/N felt a tremor of uncertainty beneath the surface, but Ashlyn’s unwavering confidence ignited a flicker of hope within her. The way Ashlyn held her gaze conveyed an unspoken understanding, a bond fortified through shared battles.

The two girls sat together on dismembered wheels in the dirt, and Y/N took a deep breath, inhaling the laughter and warmth around them. The pressure on her chest eased, making the idea of letting go feel more attainable.

Y/N sighed, the frustration of it all starting to bubble up. "It’s hard to let go when everything feels so fragile, like the smallest mistake could shatter everything."

Ashlyn’s expression softened further. "I know. But you’re not alone in this. You have me and the rest of the group. We’ll keep things in check together, but you don’t have to carry this weight by yourself. Just... try to focus on now. Enjoy the moments we have because they matter."

Y/N felt her shoulders relax slightly under Ashlyn’s comforting words. "Thanks, Ash. I guess I just needed someone to remind me that I don’t have to be on edge all the time."

"Just promise me you won’t completely shut down," Ashlyn replied, her expression earnest.

Y/N smiled faintly. "I’ll try. But sometimes, I worry I’m not helping, like I’m just making things harder."

"You are helping, more than you think. We all feel that way sometimes, but you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for." Ashlyn squeezed Y/N’s arm before letting go.

The heaviness in Y/N’s chest hadn’t completely disappeared, but with Ashlyn beside her, the weight felt more bearable. The distant hum of laughter and the flickering scenes of the group celebrating Lily’s birthday felt less overwhelming now, the warmth of the moment slowly filling the empty spaces inside her.

Y/N stole a glance at Ashlyn, whose calm presence offered quiet comfort amidst the party's chaos. Ashlyn exuded a grounding strength that Y/N deeply appreciated.

With her arms crossed thoughtfully, Ashlyn's slate-green eyes surveyed the festivities. “You know,” she began, her voice soft yet piercing through the noise, “it’s easy to feel disconnected when you’re carrying so much in your head. But you don’t have to handle it alone.”

Ashlyn’s usual bluntness was wrapped in genuine care, a rarity that Y/N recognized as significant. When Ashlyn reached out, it always carried weight.

Her brow furrowed slightly in solidarity. “I get it. It often feels like we’re all facing struggles no one else understands. But if you pull away, it makes it harder for me to support you. I want to be there for you.”

Y/N stared at the flickering firelight, her gaze drifting to her shadow. “I don’t want to be a burden,” she confessed softly. “I see you dealing with your own stuff, and I don’t want to add to that.”

Ashlyn’s steady eyes remained fixed on her. "You’re not a burden," she replied firmly, blending strength with gentleness. "You’re part of this group, and your feelings matter just as much as anyone else's. You shouldn’t feel like you need to hide them. It makes it harder for the rest of us to support you."

Ashlyn’s earnestness wrapped around Y/N like a warm blanket, making her feel understood. She took a slow, shaky breath, allowing Ashlyn’s reassurance to settle. "I appreciate that," Y/N murmured, her voice steadier now.

A comfortable silence enveloped them, filled with an unspoken understanding. The distant laughter faded as Ashlyn’s contemplative expression took over. After a moment, she spoke again. "Let’s focus on tonight. I’ll handle the worrying. You just be here."

Y/N smiled faintly, relief bubbling up inside her. "Deal," she replied, feeling a sense of release—a promise that she could lean on Ashlyn, if only for a while.

But Ashlyn leaned forward, her gaze sharpening with intensity. "You’re stronger than you realize," she said, her voice low but filled with conviction. "I know it gets overwhelming, but remember, I’m here when it does."

Y/N blinked, feeling the sincerity in Ashlyn’s words seep in, filling the heavy spaces within her. Ashlyn’s unwavering presence made her believe—made her trust that she wouldn’t have to carry her burdens alone.

"Thank you, Ashlyn," Y/N whispered, her throat tightening. The gratitude in her voice was genuine, born from a deep place that longed for this understanding. "That means more than I can say."

For a fleeting moment, Ashlyn's composed exterior softened, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability rarely seen. It was a rare gift to witness this side of her, illuminating just how deeply she cared beneath her calm facade. "You’re important to me," Ashlyn admitted quietly but steadily, each word filled with sincerity. "I’ve seen how hard you try to keep things together, but you don’t have to do it all alone. Not with us."

As the words hung in the air, warmth rushed to Y/N's face, a blush creeping across her cheeks. The weight of Ashlyn’s earnestness felt like a comforting blanket enveloping her, overwhelming in the best way. The sincerity in Ashlyn's voice resonated within her, breaking through the walls she had built. In that moment, she wondered why someone would care so profoundly about her. The thought churned in her mind, making her heart pound with embarrassment and disbelief. It was a foreign sensation to feel so valued, especially by someone as grounded as Ashlyn.

Caught off guard, Y/N's breath caught in her throat. The vulnerability in Ashlyn's gaze drew her in, revealing a depth of understanding she had longed for but never truly experienced. The realization washed over her like a tide, warming her chest and melting away the icy grip of doubt that had held her captive. Ashlyn’s affirmation was a lighthouse in the fog of her uncertainty, illuminating her path forward.

In that quiet moment, Y/N’s heart began to shift. The burden she had been carrying felt less suffocating. It was still there, but now it seemed lighter, more manageable. There was comfort in knowing her struggles weren’t hers to bear alone. The vulnerability she felt mingled with a burgeoning sense of hope—a feeling she hadn’t anticipated but welcomed nonetheless.

As the moment lingered, Y/N sensed something change within her. The burden no longer felt insurmountable; it felt shared.

She nodded, her voice soft but determined. "I won’t forget that."

Ashlyn smiled, a rare expression full of warmth that lit up her usually serious demeanor. "Good," she replied, gentle yet strong. "Now, let’s see what kind of night we can make of this—together."

As they walked back toward the heart of the party, the crackling warmth of the fire casting a soft glow on their faces, Y/N felt something shift inside her. The future still held uncertainties, and her worries hadn’t completely disappeared, but with Ashlyn beside her, they felt different—less daunting.

FLASHBACK END

As father and daughter stood by the gate under the quiet blanket of the night, the air around them was thick with unspoken tension. D/N took a deep, steadying breath, his gaze flickering from the ground to Y/N's face as if trying to find the right words amidst the stillness. His voice, when he finally spoke, was soft but carried the weight of his unspoken concerns.

“Tell me... what’s really causing this?”



Y/N was caught off guard by the sudden question her father posed. She could sense the weight behind his words, unsure if he was trying to provoke a reaction or if he genuinely wanted to understand her better. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with unspoken concerns. She understood why he was worried; she had been acting more cautious than usual, almost like a tightly wound spring ready to snap.

Her eyes widened in surprise before softening, the realization hitting her that there was much more hidden beneath her surface. "What would I be hiding?" she asked, feigning innocence, though inside, she knew the answer. The truth was, she was hiding a lot—her heart felt heavy with the burden of secrets. It was easy to pretend everything was fine, but dealing with the chaotic reality of her life was something else entirely.

D/N frowned, his gaze narrowing slightly. He could see right through her facade; this was more than just typical teenage defiance. It was a matter of survival—a dangerous dance with the unknown. For Y/N, revealing the truth about the phantom world was a monumental risk, one that could have serious consequences for both of them. She didn't know how her father would react if she laid it all out on the table, but she felt that this moment was crucial.

“Haa, Y/N…” D/N sighed, the weight of his gaze settling heavily on her. There was a knowing look in his eyes, one that spoke volumes about their shared history and the unspoken truths hanging in the air. He didn’t need to say much; the tension between them was palpable. It wasn’t the first time they found themselves on opposite ends of a conversation like this, but something felt different this time. Deeper. More urgent.

“I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re lying to me,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with the exhaustion of a man who had carried this burden for too long.

Y/N let out a breath, trying to stay calm, but the way her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt betrayed her. She shrugged, attempting a casual tone. “Well, I’m a teenager. Aren’t we supposed to lie when we’ve got something to hide?”

She threw in a half-hearted smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. As much as she tried to play it cool, she felt the familiar burn of anxiety creeping up her throat, threatening to choke her words before they could even form. She glanced away, staring at the window like the dusty blinds held the answers to all her problems. Staying vigilant had become second nature—one wrong word, one careless slip, and the fragile world she’d constructed could crumble in an instant.

But D/N was sharper than she had realized. “I’m your father, Y/N. And from what I can see, this is more than just teenage rebellion. I know I’m not supposed to pry into every detail of your life—you have your own space, your own world—but I worry. I worry about you more than you know,” he said, his voice softening as he leaned closer. His eyes, though stern, were filled with warmth. He wasn’t angry. He was scared. Scared for her.

She felt her pulse quicken. Her chest tightened, and she resisted the urge to shift her weight, uncomfortable under the weight of his concern. She was used to skirting around these questions, dodging them with practiced ease. But this was different. He wasn’t letting go. Not this time.

"Y/N, do you trust me?" His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made her stomach twist. It was a loaded question—one that dug into places she wasn’t ready to expose.

Her heart raced, the walls she’d so carefully built beginning to crack under the pressure. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "Of course, I trust you. It’s just—" she hesitated, searching for the right words, "it’s not been easy."

As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted them. They sounded weak, hollow. She could see the way his brow furrowed, the slight shift in his posture as suspicion began to creep into his expression. He was getting closer to the truth, closer than she was comfortable with. The atmosphere in the room seemed to thicken, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

D/N leaned back slightly, his gaze never wavering. He was giving her space to speak, but the silence between them was unbearable. He wasn’t going to let her deflect this time.

"I can see there’s something more going on here, Y/N," he said slowly, his voice low but firm. "And as much as you don’t want to tell me, I have to ask. What are these... Phantoms?"

The word hit her like a freight train. Phantoms. She hadn’t expected to hear it from his mouth—especially not now. Her mind reeled as the reality of the situation slammed into her, heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.

Her eyes shot up, locking onto his. The world around her seemed to narrow, closing in as her pulse quickened, panic spreading like wildfire through her veins. She could feel her hands trembling at her sides, her palms growing slick with sweat. It was all she could do to maintain the fragile mask of composure.

"How does he know about that?" Her mind was spinning, her thoughts spiraling out of control. "I’ve been so careful... there’s no way I slipped up, no way..." She mentally retraced every step, every conversation, trying to find the moment she might’ve let her guard down. But nothing made sense.

Her father’s voice broke through her thoughts, but it felt distant, like she was hearing him from underwater. "Your therapist called me a while ago," he continued, his tone gentler now, almost apologetic. "She wanted to talk about some concerns she had. She told me you’d been... seeing things."

Those words, so carefully spoken, shattered the last of Y/N’s fragile calm. She felt the ground tilt beneath her, the world slipping out of focus as she tried to process the implications of what he was saying. "This can’t be happening. Not now. Not like this."

The walls she had so carefully constructed around her secret world, the invisible line she had drawn between the phantom dimension and her reality—everything was crumbling. Guilt washed over her like a tidal wave, each crashing thought louder and more suffocating than the last.

"It’s all my fault. I should’ve been more careful. I shouldn’t have told anyone, not even in therapy. How could I be so foolish?"

Panic clawed at Y/N's chest, tightening its grip around her lungs, making it hard to draw a breath. The suffocating weight of the moment bore down on her, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet her father’s eyes. Not now. Not after everything. The thought of his gaze—piercing, filled with unspoken questions—was too much to bear. Each second stretched painfully, a reminder of the delicate balance she had worked so hard to maintain.

Her friends—those who had stood by her through everything—they had no idea. They couldn’t know. If her father had found out, if he’d somehow pieced together the truth, everything they had fought to protect was at risk. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Not now, not ever.

Reality had already begun to shift, with strange things happening, subtle but undeniable. The phantom world’s influence was seeping through, affecting things in ways she couldn't fully understand. And if her father knew, if the truth slipped out, it would only make things worse.

Y/N's heart raced, her mind spinning. She had to keep this hidden. The stakes were too high.

D/N was watching her carefully, waiting for her to respond. His expression had softened, concern etched into every line of his face. He could see the storm brewing behind her eyes, the way her shoulders tensed, the slight tremor in her hands.

Y/N’s voice trembled as she finally forced herself to speak, her words barely above a whisper. "How... how did you find out about this?" The question felt like it cost her everything. Her throat was tight, her heart hammering in her chest. She needed an answer, a way to explain how everything had gone so wrong.

"I told you," he repeated gently. "Your therapist. She thought I should know. She didn’t give me all the details, but she mentioned something about you seeing... otherworldly things. It worried her, and it worries me. You’ve been keeping so much to yourself, Y/N. And it’s not just about what’s real or what’s not. It’s about how much you’re carrying, all on your own. You don’t have to do that. Not anymore."

His words, meant to comfort, only deepened the pit in her stomach. It wasn’t just about the phantoms anymore. It was about the lies, the secrets, the weight she had been carrying for so long. She had thought she was protecting him—protecting everyone—by keeping it all to herself. But now, it felt like she was suffocating under the enormity of it all.

She wanted to tell him the truth. She needed to. But how could she explain the phantom world? How could she make him understand that what she was seeing wasn’t just in her head? That there were things out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike?

How could she make him understand without putting everyone at risk?

Her thoughts raced, her chest tightening as she struggled to find the right words. But nothing felt right. Nothing felt safe. And in that moment, she realized just how isolated she truly was.

Her breath grew ragged, the pounding in her chest intensifying with every second that passed. The fear of telling her father the truth gnawed at her insides, far worse than the terror she had ever felt facing a phantom. The phantoms—those dark, twisted things—at least she could fight. But this? This was different. This was her father, the man who had always been her rock, the one person she couldn’t bear to hurt. Yet here she was, about to do just that by withholding the truth. The weight of her secret bore down on her like a crushing force, threatening to suffocate her.

Her hand reached out almost unconsciously, her fingers trembling as they wrapped around her father's arm. His warmth was grounding, a tangible reminder of the love and safety he had always provided, but even that comfort couldn't ease the storm brewing inside her. Her wide, pleading eyes locked with his, and in that moment, her entire world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. She could hear the faint laughter and chatter of the party continuing around them, but it was distant, irrelevant—a mere backdrop to the intensity of this moment.

“Dad,” she whispered, her voice trembling despite her determination to sound composed. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, thick with unspoken fears and uncertainties. “I promise, I’ll explain everything. I will, but not right now.” Each syllable was laced with urgency, her heart racing as she met his gaze, searching for any flicker of understanding.

The silence stretched between them, filled with tension and the echo of unshared burdens. Her desperation seeped into every word, as if she were pouring out her soul, hoping he could sense the turmoil beneath her calm facade. “Right now, I just need you to trust me. Please. Just... trust me.”

His eyes narrowed, a mixture of concern and confusion clouding his expression. She could see the gears turning in his mind, weighing her request against the reality of the situation. But deep down, she knew that trust was a fragile thing, easily shattered by doubt and fear.

“Why?” he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a father’s instinct to protect. “Why should I?”

“Because I’m scared,” she admitted, the admission spilling from her lips like a long-held breath. “Because if you knew... If you understood everything that’s happening, you’d be scared too. And I can’t lose you to that fear, Dad.”

She stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest, hoping to bridge the distance that had grown between them. “I promise I’ll explain everything when I can. But right now, I need you to believe in me. I need to handle this my way, without adding more to your worries.”

For a moment, the world outside faded away—the chaos, the noise, the uncertainty—and all that remained was this fragile connection between them. She could see the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, the battle between his instincts and his trust in her.

She could see the conflict in his eyes—the doubt, the worry, the protectiveness. He wanted to help her, to make everything right, but how could he when he didn’t even know what was going on? How could he trust her when she was so clearly hiding something? The unspoken questions lingered in the air between them, thick and heavy. And Y/N knew that each second she kept the truth from him, the chasm between them widened, threatening to tear apart the bond they had always shared.

The night had fully enveloped the area, cloaking everything in a deep darkness. In the distance, the faint glow of the campfire flickered, casting ghostly shadows that danced across the ground. Although they were far from the group, Y/N could still make out the distant forms of the other teens’ parents, their figures only silhouettes against the firelight. The atmosphere felt tense and surreal, as if the world held its breath, waiting for something to break the stillness.

Inside, Y/N was a storm of panic, fear, and guilt. Her father’s face softened momentarily in the dim light, but the tension still lingered in his features like a storm cloud. He let out a long, slow breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he processed her words. The silence stretched between them, a delicate thread that could snap at any moment. His gaze remained locked on hers, searching for answers, reassurances—anything that might help him understand what was going on.

“I don’t like this, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice low but steady. “I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with you. I can see there’s something you’re not telling me. And I don’t know what it is, but it scares me.” His eyes softened, filled with a mixture of love and concern. “But if you’re asking me to trust you… I will.”

A wave of relief washed over Y/N, only to be quickly replaced by a gnawing guilt. She was asking him to trust her without giving him any real reason to. She was asking him to step blindly into the unknown, to put his faith in her while she kept him in the dark. It wasn’t fair. But she had no choice. Not now.

The last rays of twilight had faded, leaving behind a sky scattered with stars that twinkled like distant diamonds. The cool night air wrapped around them, heavy with unsaid words. Y/N let go of her father’s arm, her hand falling to her side as she struggled to steady her breath. She had bought herself some time, but she knew it wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, she would have to come clean.

But for now, she had his trust. And that, at least, was something.

The night felt thick with the weight of everything unsaid, as if the darkness held its breath along with her. Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at her father, aware that this moment would change everything between them. She turned slightly, her gaze drifting to the horizon where the stars shone brightly against the inky sky. For a fleeting moment, the world seemed peaceful—quiet, still, almost beautiful. But that peace was a fragile illusion, a thin veneer barely concealing the chaos lurking beneath.

As the night deepened, Y/N could feel the delicate balance between trust and fear, truth and lies, growing ever more precarious. The darkness closed in around her, the secrets pressing down, threatening to overwhelm her. But for now, she had no choice but to keep moving forward, even if the path ahead remained uncertain and shrouded in shadows.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sincerity in her tone unmistakable. Her father didn’t say anything in return, but the look in his eyes—the mixture of love, worry, and unspoken understanding—was enough.

They stood there in silence for a few moments longer, the party continuing around them, the night settling in like a soft, dark blanket. But for Y/N, the real darkness was still waiting, lurking just beyond the edge of their fragile trust, ready to engulf her the moment she let her guard down. She only hoped that when the time came, when the truth finally surfaced, it wouldn’t tear them apart for good.

She couldn’t waste any time. Every tick of the clock resonated within her, amplifying her urgency; she knew they were running out of it. Each second felt like a tightening noose, constricting her breath. She couldn’t afford to collapse from exhaustion or fear—not now, when everything was on the line. If she faltered, it could unravel their carefully laid plans. Her heart raced as she looked deep into his eyes, searching for honesty and sincerity. She needed him to trust her, even when she could offer only fragments of the truth. His surprise at her sudden shift in demeanor only added weight to her resolve.

As much as he craved answers himself, D/N sighed reluctantly, his brow furrowing with concern. “You promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” she replied, her voice steady and sincere, each word laced with determination.

“Alright.”

As Y/N was about to dash away, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her into an unexpected embrace. The world around them faded as they clung to each other, wrapped in a moment of solace. When he finally pulled away, concern etched into his features, he looked at her with a worried smile. “I love you.”

She smiled softly, warmth blooming in her chest, pushing back against the encroaching fear. “I love you too.” Their eyes held for a heartbeat longer before she broke the connection, rushing off to the bus, determination fueling her steps.

With everything that had transpired over the past week, they had to be prepared. There was no room for mistakes; they weren’t going to let this opportunity slip through their fingers. Changes were occurring at an alarming rate, and they needed to find a way to handle them. The phantom world was encroaching upon their reality, its unseen threats inching closer, and they had no idea how much more their lives could be affected if they didn’t find a way out.

As Y/N stepped onto the bus, she felt the weight of everyone’s eyes settle on her, their concern and curiosity evident in the lingering silence that followed her entrance. Her heart pounded, the noise of the outside world fading as she took a deep breath and forced a smile. It felt heavier than usual.

“Oh, you’re here!” Aiden exclaimed from his seat, his voice cutting through the silence. “Or, back at least.” His grin was wide, playful as always.

“Sorry for the wait…” she murmured, glancing around at her friends. Her eyes settled on Tyler, who stood with his arms crossed, a calm yet unreadable expression on his face, a contrast to the tension she felt. “…Did I miss anything?”

“Yeah… but we ended up waiting for you.” Tyler paused, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he added, “Taught Ben some guitar. He’s gonna play for us.”

The weight of his words seemed to hang in the air, drawing Y/N’s attention toward Ben. Standing at the front of the group, he gripped a worn, brown guitar with tense fingers. His posture suggested he was trying to hold it together, but it seemed like something much bigger than just playing a song was at stake. Y/N could see the nerves etched in his face, the way his shoulders lifted just a little too high, as if he were trying to shrink away from the spotlight now cast upon him.

"Oh, really?" Y/N's surprise was genuine. She turned her attention to Ben, sensing his nervousness as she gave him a reassuring smile. "That’s awesome! I mean, you’ve always seemed like the type to have a natural talent for anything." She hesitated for a moment, her mind drifting to the reason behind his quiet nature—the voice box injury that had silenced him in many ways. Her heart clenched slightly, but she chose not to mention it, unwilling to bring up that painful past right now.

The compliment was genuine, but she couldn’t ignore the slight tremble in his hands as he adjusted the guitar. His lips twitched into a tiny smile, a fleeting moment of gratitude that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though she could tell he appreciated her words.

Ashlyn sat at the front with the seat facing forward, her usual stoic demeanor in place, arms crossed as she leaned back. Her eyes flicked toward Ben, offering no verbal encouragement, but Y/N noticed the subtle shift in her expression—a slight nod, an acknowledgment. Ashlyn didn’t need to say much; her presence was enough to show her support.

Meanwhile, Aiden lounged back on the seat, his body fully relaxed against the cushion as he watched the scene unfold, excitement sparkling in his eyes. “You got this! We’re all here for the grand debut of the ‘Happy Birthday’ masterpiece!” His voice rang out with booming enthusiasm, cutting through the moment. The sudden outburst caused Ben to flinch slightly, the guitar strings emitting a sharp, unintended twang.

Aiden laughed at the mishap, his energy palpable despite his laid-back posture. "Oops, my bad!" he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

Ben nodded, though his jaw clenched as he tried to steady his breathing. The weight of the moment pressed down on him. His entire life had changed after the incident that stole his voice, and now, here he was, about to play a simple song—one that most would brush off as trivial—but for Ben, it was monumental. It was a step forward.

Across from Taylor, Logan was curled up inside a dismembered tire, positioned in front of her. Taylor had her feet propped up on the seat, her back slightly hunched as she sat there, appearing a bit dazed but managing to stay present. Logan adjusted his glasses, offering Ben a quiet, reassuring smile. Though not as outspoken as Aiden, his silent support was just as meaningful. His steady gaze held a quiet encouragement, making it clear that he was with Ben every step of the way, even without uttering a word.

Tyler, observing from his usual laid-back posture, had a different air about him now. There was a flicker of something in his eyes as he looked at Ben—not quite pride, but something close to it. His voice was softer now, a rare moment of vulnerability from him. “Whenever you’re ready, man.”

Ben’s fingers hovered above the strings, trembling slightly. He swallowed hard, his throat visibly tightening as he took a deep breath. Y/N’s heart clenched as she watched him fight through the nerves, the fear, and the memories of his past. The bus seemed to quiet completely, the usual banter and background noise of their group fading into nothingness.

For a moment, it was just Ben—him and the guitar, a bridge between who he used to be and the person he was becoming.

Then, he began to play.

As Ben started to strum the familiar melody of "Happy Birthday," the bus fell into a deep, almost reverent silence. Every conversation, every quiet rustle of clothing, and even the fidgeting hands stilled, as if the very air held its breath in anticipation. The group’s focus shifted entirely onto him, their eyes tracing the movements of his hands as his fingers moved slowly at first, hesitant, gliding across the guitar strings. The notes that emerged felt fragile, wavering as if they might break, each one filled with unspoken effort.

The first few notes were shaky, his fingers adjusting awkwardly to the guitar, clearly feeling the weight of performing in front of his friends. Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him, his body slightly hunched, shoulders tight as if he expected to make a mistake at any moment. But Ben didn’t stop. There was raw determination in every strum, a quiet resilience that filled the bus.

Y/N watched with a mix of empathy, feeling the weight of each note as if it carried Ben’s past and present with it. This wasn’t just about playing a song—it was about reclaiming something that had been taken from him, something that made him feel whole again, even if only for a few moments.

But no one spoke. No one interrupted. All eyes remained on Ben, their quiet attention an unspoken show of support.

Each subsequent note grew a little more assured, the wobbles in the melody gradually smoothing out as he found his rhythm. It wasn’t perfect—some notes rang off-key, others were too soft—but that didn’t matter. In fact, the imperfections made it all the more meaningful. It was Ben, the quiet giant, finding his voice again, even if it was through the strings of a guitar.

The rest of the group remained entranced, watching and listening with a quiet intensity. Ashlyn, who usually kept a wary distance from social interactions, leaned in slightly, her expression softening with respect. Aiden, typically full of energy and noise, was uncharacteristically silent, his bright eyes wide with awe as he watched his cousin push through his nerves.

Tyler stood nearby, his usual snark absent. Instead, his intense gaze was fixed on Ben’s hands as they moved over the instrument. A rare look of approval flickered across his face, silent but unmistakable, as the music continued.

Y/N felt her heart swell, a warmth spreading through her chest as she watched the scene unfold. She hadn’t realized just how much this simple moment would mean to all of them, especially to Ben. He wasn’t just playing a song; he was letting them in. Each note was a small victory, a testament to the resilience he carried in silence.

By the time Ben neared the final notes, the once-shaky melody had smoothed into something warm, steady, and full of emotion. When the song ended, the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or expectant—it was reverent.

As the last note of "Happy Birthday" lingered in the air, the bus was enveloped in a rare, soft silence. Every creak of the vehicle, every rustle of clothing, seemed to pause in respect for the simple, fragile melody that had just been played. Ben’s fingers, still resting on the strings, trembled slightly. He wasn’t used to being the center of attention, especially not in this way, and the quiet that followed felt heavy, almost overwhelming.

Y/N was the first to break the silence—not with words, but with a gentle smile. She clapped slowly, softly at first, letting her admiration show without needing to say much. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to express how proud she felt. Her eyes met Ben’s, and with a simple, encouraging look, she conveyed everything she wanted to say. He had done it. He had pushed through the nerves and played.

Across from her, Aiden’s reaction was a bit more measured than usual. He sat up slightly, a wide grin on his face. “That was great!” he said, his enthusiasm genuine but tempered with understanding. He nodded appreciatively, the excitement evident in his eyes but balanced with an awareness of Ben’s nerves. “You really nailed it!”

Logan, always the more reserved one, offered Ben a thumbs-up, his smile soft but full of sincerity. “That was nice,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. It was typical of Logan to say little, but his approval was no less genuine. His tired eyes reflected the pride he felt for Ben, a quiet understanding between two friends who didn’t need many words.

Ashlyn glanced at Ben from beneath her lashes, shifting slightly in her seat. Her usual reserved posture softened just enough to reveal her approval. “Not bad,” she muttered, her voice low but unmistakably supportive. It was more than she usually offered, and for her, that small compliment carried weight.

Taylor smiled softly, leaning forward with her knees resting on the seat, her back slightly hunched. The fatigue in her eyes didn’t dull her radiant expression as she looked at Ben. "That was beautiful, Ben. I'm really proud of you," she said, her voice steady and sincere, even as her slight weariness lingered in her tone.

Ben stood there, still holding the guitar, his face flushed with a mix of relief and disbelief. He blinked, clearly trying to process the amount of praise being directed his way. He wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to the attention or the warmth that came with it. But slowly, a shy smile began to creep across his face, tentative at first, and then a little more sure of itself. His fingers stopped trembling, his posture loosening as if the heavy weight he had carried for so long had started to lift, even if only a little.

Y/N’s gaze flickered toward Tyler, who stood at the front of the bus beside Ashlyn, his arms crossed and his expression neutral. He watched intently as Ben played the song he had taught him, a subtle shift in his eyes revealing a flicker of something soft—something proud—that he would never openly acknowledge.

“Told you you’d do fine,” Tyler muttered, his voice casual, almost dismissive, but there was no mistaking the hint of pride underneath it. He might not have shown it outwardly, but Y/N could tell that Tyler was pleased, in his own way. This wasn’t just about the song—it was about Ben pushing through, about him finding a piece of himself again.

Ben’s smile grew a little wider at Tyler’s words, though he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded, his eyes full of gratitude, not just for Tyler’s help but for the way the group had rallied around him. For the first time in a long while, there was a lightness to Ben, a sense that maybe, just maybe, the weight of his past was starting to lift.

As Y/N watched this small, quiet victory unfold, a warmth spread through her. It wasn’t just about the music or the song—it was about these moments, these simple acts of support and care that defined who they were as a group. They were friends, bound together by moments like this, where growth wasn’t measured in grand gestures but in the quiet, unspoken ways they lifted each other up.

For Y/N, seeing Ben’s shy smile, Tyler’s rare flicker of pride, and the collective warmth from her friends was a poignant realization that sank deep into her heart. This was what mattered.

---

At the stroke of midnight, we all fell asleep instantly as the shift took hold. To our families, it seemed like we had simply dozed off for a minute, nothing unusual.

That’s why we chose the bus as our separate location—out of sight, perfectly suited for the plan.

---

"Were still going into town tonight, right?" Aiden asked, leaning back slightly against the bus seat, his head tipped back, revealing his bright crimson-red eyes that sparkled under the bus's ample lights. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, a quiet understanding settling over the group as they prepared for their mission.

"Yeah, since that's what Logan suggested we do," Ashlyn replied, her tone steady yet serious as she shifted slightly in her seat. Her ginger hair framed her freckled face, and her slate-green eyes held a focused intensity, reflecting her determination. There was an underlying sense of readiness in her posture, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges they were about to undertake.

“Well, that’s at least somewhere good to start,” Y/N added, her voice low but clear as she glanced around the bus, taking in the familiar faces of her friends, each marked with their own blend of resolve and trepidation.

“It’s good you made it here on time,” Ashlyn said to Y/N as she settled into the seat beside her in the corner of the bus. “Midnight is almost upon us, so it’s best if everyone gets comfy.”

In front of Y/N, Aiden adjusted his position slightly, leaning his head back against the seat. He offered a brief glance toward Ashlyn, their eyes meeting for just a moment, a shared understanding passing between them. A fleeting smile graced his lips before he returned his gaze to the front of the bus, his expression thoughtful and aware of the weight of the moment.

The group had gathered all the supplies they needed for their journey, and everything seemed to fall into place. Their plan was simple yet fraught with peril: to test how far they could travel into the unknown before reaching Savannah. The bus served as a sanctuary for them to rest their bodies and minds before plunging into the impending storm.

Y/N and Ashlyn sat together, their fingers lightly intertwined, drawing strength from one another as they closed their eyes, each seeking solace in the warmth of their connection.

The air was thick with a quiet understanding of their mission, the lights overhead casting a warm glow that illuminated their faces. They were ready to face whatever awaited them, united by the shared goal of navigating the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world.

Aiden leaned back against the wall of the bus, which stood upright behind Ashlyn and Y/N, letting his hands cradle his head as he closed his eyes for a brief moment of rest amid the ongoing chaos. His legs stretched out comfortably, his feet resting lightly on his cousin Ben’s lap. Ben, sitting upright on the opposite side, seemed unfazed by the weight, his attention drawn inward. He leaned forward slightly, arms crossed over his chest, the strain of unspoken thoughts clear in his posture. Despite the silence between them, their bond was evident, a quiet testament to their shared experiences and the understanding only family could offer.

Tyler sat with his arms crossed, feet propped up on a red cooler, seemingly unaffected by the tension in the air. Beside him, Taylor rested her head against the seat, her legs stretched across her brother's lap, with her feet dangling near the walkway. Her eyes were closed, and their steady, synchronized breathing suggested a quiet sense of calm they drew from each other, even amidst the uncertainty that surrounded them.

Logan seemed to find the most comfort in a tire wheel positioned in front of the twins, using it as a makeshift nest. It was an odd choice, but he appreciated the security it provided, curling up within the hollow space like it was a protective cocoon, a small fortress against the impending challenges.

With everything prepared, they should all be fine. At least, Y/N hoped so. This should be straightforward since they navigated the phantom dimension daily, a world disturbingly similar to their own yet filled with unseen dangers lurking in every shadow. A fleeting wish brushed through her mind, longing for an easier journey, for a road trip that wouldn’t feel like a descent into hell.

BEEP

At precisely midnight, the world around them shifted, morphing into a hazy blur as they transitioned into the phantom world. It felt like stepping through a veil, the air thickening, a palpable tension crackling as they were transported into a realm where phantoms lurked and danger awaited. Shadows danced at the periphery of their vision, shifting in the darkness with an eerie, unsettling presence only the night could reveal.

The group wasted no time preparing the jeep with supplies for their journey. Each item they loaded felt like a lifeline—a fragile hope against the unknown threats that lay ahead. They moved with a sense of urgency, the sound of gear clinking and rustling filling the air as they meticulously checked off their list.

“Was that the rest of the backup supplies?” Ashlyn asked, her voice steady but tinged with urgency as she double-checked their gear. Her slate-green eyes flickered with determination, reflecting her readiness to face whatever awaited them.

“Yep!” Aiden replied, his tone laced with enthusiasm, attempting to lift the weight of anxiety that hung in the air like a heavy fog. His bright crimson-red eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and apprehension, a flicker of his usual thrill-seeking spirit shining through despite the gravity of their situation.

“Then we’re good to go,” Ashlyn declared, her brow furrowing slightly in concentration as she surveyed their supplies one last time. Just as everyone was about to pile into the vehicle, a sudden thought struck her.

“Wait—where’s Y/N?”

Inside the yellow school bus, their base of operations, Y/N paced back and forth, her mind consumed by a swirl of thoughts. Despite the protection provided by the lights stationed outside the junkyard, keeping the phantoms at bay beyond the gate, the weight of their mission pressed heavily on her. As long as they remained within the safety of the bus, they were secure. The lights created a reliable barrier, keeping the phantoms away from their makeshift sanctuary.

Yet, the looming reality of what they would face beyond the safety of their sanctuary crept into her mind. It wasn't the immediate threat that bothered her—it was the knowledge that their mission would soon lead them into more dangerous encounters, far from the safety they now had.

“Y/N... What’s wrong?” The sweet sound of Taylor's voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, making her flinch. Taylor’s tone was soft yet probing, her chocolate brown eyes filled with genuine concern as she stepped closer, sensing the turmoil within Y/N. “You alright? You seem... much too tense for this.”

Y/N forced a smile, trying to dismiss her feelings. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little nervous, I guess. It’s the phantom world, right? It can be a bit creepy.” She attempted to brush off her anxiety, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her.

Taylor studied Y/N's face, her brow furrowing slightly as she sensed the unease beneath the surface. “You know you can talk to me if something’s bothering you,” she said, her voice warm yet firm, a comforting presence amid the uncertainty surrounding them. Her hand instinctively reached out, conveying the sincerity of her offer.

“I promise, I’m fine,” Y/N insisted, striving to keep her tone light, but the tremor in her words was undeniable. “I’m just thinking too much, that’s all.” The truth was, an unsettling mix of emotions swirled within her—anticipation, dread, and an inexplicable fear of the unknown. It felt like standing on the edge of a precipice, peering into an abyss that beckoned her to jump but left her paralyzed.

Taylor’s gentle hand found its way to Y/N’s arm, her touch grounding and reassuring. “I get that it’s scary,” she said, her eyes softening with empathy. “But you don’t have to carry any of it alone. We’re in this together. I’m here for you.”

“I know,” Y/N replied, yet even as she said it, the weight of her hidden fears pressed heavily on her chest. “I just don’t want to worry anyone.” The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths, each syllable a reminder of the burden she bore alone.

“Y/N, it’s okay to feel this way,” Taylor replied, her voice steady and earnest. “We’re all scared, but that doesn’t mean we can’t share those fears. You don’t have to hide from me. I want to help you carry this weight.” The sincerity in her voice was a balm against Y/N’s rising anxiety.

Y/N felt a pang of guilt twist in her stomach. She didn’t want to be the reason for any worry. “Seriously, I’m fine,” she repeated, though her voice was quieter this time, less convincing. “Let’s just focus on the mission.” The determination to remain strong for her friends mingled with the inner turmoil she struggled to suppress.

“Okay,” Taylor relented, though her eyes still held a flicker of concern. “Just... be careful, alright? I don’t want anything to happen to you.” There was a tremor in her voice, revealing her deep-seated worry, and Y/N felt a rush of affection for her friend, a bond forged in shared struggles.

“Always,” Y/N said, forcing another smile, her heart warming at Taylor’s protectiveness. The genuine care in her friend's voice soothed her fears, even if only for a moment.

The two girls stepped back outside, their resolve renewed as they rejoined the group preparing for the journey ahead. Everyone climbed into the vehicle, squeezing into their spots with a mix of nervous energy and determination. Y/N found herself in the back with Logan, crammed into the trunk, the tight confines heightening the tension that crackled in the air around them.

“Everyone have their flashlights ready?” Ashlyn called from the front seat, her eyes darting around the group, scanning for signs of hesitation or doubt.

“Y-yeah,” Taylor replied, a hint of nervousness trembling in her voice, betraying the brave facade she tried to maintain. The air felt charged with anticipation, each of them bracing for the unknown as the jeep's engine roared to life, ready to plunge into the heart of the phantom world.

Ashlyn glanced out the driver’s window and spotted Aiden standing there, a confident smile plastered across his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Alright, you know what to do, right? Close the gate after we’re out and then run to—” she began, but he cut her off, finishing her sentence effortlessly.

“—to the other door. Wait for you to honk, and then bolt for the jeep.” He swiped the blade in his hand with a flourish, a grin spreading across his face that belied the danger lurking just beyond their vision. “I got it, don’t worry.”

“…Okay. Be careful,” Ashlyn said, her voice low and filled with concern, the weight of responsibility resting heavily on her shoulders as she tried to shield her friends from the worst of what awaited them.

“You better not do something stupid,” Y/N called from the back, her bravado slipping, revealing the worry that gnawed at her insides.

Aiden turned to her, tilting his head slightly, a teasing grin dancing on his lips. “You judge me too much, trust N/N,” he said playfully, the spark of defiance in his eyes a clear indication of his desire to rise to the challenge.

“She's not wrong,” Tyler chimed in, glancing out the window where Aiden stood, his face taut with tension, the atmosphere thickening around them.

“Ouch,” Aiden feigned hurt, pressing a hand dramatically against his chest, but the mischief in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Focus!” Ashlyn exclaimed, her tone sharp as she steered them into action, snapping everyone back to the task at hand.

“Yep!”

Once the gate swung open, Ashlyn pressed her foot hard on the accelerator, the jeep lurching forward as they tore out of the graveyard. The group shone their flashlights through the windows, the beams creating a fragile protective barrier against the phantoms that lurked nearby, shadows stretching and twisting like dark tendrils. This tactic had proven effective in the past, but Y/N felt a pit of anxiety form in her stomach. The gate closed shut behind them, sealing off their last refuge, leaving only the unknown ahead.

As Aiden sprinted to the back door, Ashlyn maneuvered the vehicle to the other side. At the perfect moment, when Ashlyn honked the horn, Aiden dashed into the passenger seat just as they sped away onto the winding road. From her spot in the trunk, Y/N glanced back, peering through the back window, heart pounding as she searched for signs of pursuit.

“Are they following us?” she asked, straining to keep her eyes on the road, her heart pounding as the wind whipped through the open spaces of the jeep. The chaotic rush of air tousled Ashlyn’s curly hair, which hugged her head closely and only slightly lengthened behind her ears. The vibrant ginger strands framed her freckled face, accentuating her fierce, determined expression. Despite the chaos, her slate-green eyes glinted with resolve as she fought to maintain focus.

“Y-yeah, but they aren’t keeping up,” Logan replied, gripping the sniper tightly as he glanced out. His gaze swept across the flickering darkness, a flicker of resolve on his face. He noted a few phantoms trailing behind, their ghostly forms unsettling, but for the moment, they remained at a safe distance.

“Okay Logan, we’re driving about two hours out, right? To the next town?” Ashlyn pressed, needing to anchor herself in the details, a distraction from the chaos swirling around them.

“Yes. Me and my grandparents go there often to the antique shop, so I'm familiar with the location and how to get there.” Logan explained, his tone steady, though the hint of uncertainty lingered like a storm cloud threatening to burst. “I’m not sure if it’ll be far enough away, but I think it’s a good place to start.”

As the jeep rumbled down the darkened road, a stifling silence wrapped itself around the group, thickening the air like an oppressive fog. Every breath felt heavier, and the steady thud of their heartbeats seemed to echo louder in the quiet, a constant reminder of the perilous reality they faced. Y/N sat huddled in the back, her thoughts spinning in a chaotic loop, chasing one another relentlessly. The wind, sharp and unforgiving, swept through the shattered window beside her, tugging at her hair with icy fingers. Each strand brushed her face like the touch of a ghost, heightening the vulnerability that clawed at her.

The damage from the phantoms' attack just days ago had left the window a gaping wound, offering no protection from the night that pressed in around them. Outside, the darkness seemed alive, shadows shifting ominously in the distance, feeding her growing sense of dread. Every bump in the road sent a jolt through her, each one a harsh reminder of how little control she had in this realm, how powerless she truly felt.

She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around them as if that could shield her from the crushing fear building within. Resting her forehead against her knees, Y/N tried to steady her breathing, but the suffocating weight of doubt bore down on her. Could she protect herself, let alone her friends, in a place like this? The thought gnawed at her, sinking deeper with every passing second, until it became an unbearable pressure on her chest.

Hopelessness crept in like a slow tide, threatening to drown her in its depths.

A fleeting thought brushed through her mind: What if the danger was lurking just around the next corner?

“Ashlyn, it’s been thirty minutes of silence. Can I PLEASE play some music or something?” Aiden’s voice broke through the stillness, his tone tinged with a blend of desperation and boredom. He leaned his head against the doorframe, his fluffy blonde hair swaying slightly with the wind that rushed through the broken windows. The cold breeze brushed against his tan skin, offering fleeting comfort as he stared out at the blurred scenery flashing by. The world outside seemed distant, unimportant, compared to the heavy silence that filled the jeep. He craved a distraction—anything to shatter the oppressive quiet that weighed on him like an invisible shroud.

“No, Aiden. We need to focus,” Ashlyn responded, her voice steady and resolute, leaving no room for argument. Her slate-green eyes remained fixed on the winding road ahead, unwavering despite the palpable tension that gripped the group. Each curve in the road demanded her full attention, and every muscle in her body was taut, the weight of their situation pressing down on her. She gripped the steering wheel firmly, knuckles white against the dark leather, her focus unrelenting as she navigated the narrow, twisting path.

For Ashlyn, focus was synonymous with survival. Each choice she made had consequences, and she wasn’t willing to risk their safety for anything—especially not for a fleeting distraction. The oppressive silence in the jeep was thick, punctuated only by the sound of tires on gravel and the rush of wind through the shattered windows, but she maintained her composure, channeling all her energy into driving.

As she steered through the darkness, the weight of responsibility settled heavily on her shoulders. She couldn’t afford to waver; her friends depended on her clarity and strength. There was no room for hesitation—not now. The road ahead was fraught with danger, but her determination burned bright, a beacon against the encroaching night.

“Once you pass the school, you'll take a right,” Logan instructed through the winds, still holding his sniper rifle steady despite the vehicle’s jostling motion. The night air was thick with tension, punctuated by the soft hum of the jeep's engine and the distant sound of rustling leaves, hints of danger lurking just beyond their sight. Each word he spoke sliced through the oppressive atmosphere like a lifeline, grounding them all in the moment. It was a reminder that they were in this together, striving toward a shared goal—safety. The headlights pierced the darkness ahead, illuminating the twisting road as it snaked through the dense trees, casting eerie shadows that danced along the edges of their path. That hope, though fragile, propelled them forward, binding them together in their necessity for survival.

“Okay,” Ashlyn replied, her voice infused with determination, unwavering as her gaze remained fixed on the road ahead. She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel, and the jeep smoothly followed the road’s curves as they pressed deeper into the night.

Despite their rapid pace, the ride felt surprisingly smooth, as if the speed were a barrier that kept the phantoms at bay, at least for now. Yet, even amidst this seemingly calm journey, Y/N could feel the tension swirling within her, a tight coil of anxiety lodged deep in her chest. The wind, sharp and unyielding, swept through the shattered windows, sending icy tendrils through the jeep. The cold seeped into her bones, biting into her skin, causing her to shiver despite the layers she wore.

She let out a soft sigh, her breath barely audible over the hum of the engine and the rush of the wind. The hard interior of the jeep pressed uncomfortably against her, the space feeling tight and confining. In a fleeting moment of respite, she closed her eyes, attempting to gather her scattered thoughts and push back against the fear gnawing at the edges of her mind. The silence that once provided solace now felt suffocating, amplifying the uncertainty that lingered in the air.

"I'm scared..." The words slipped from her lips in a quiet whisper, barely loud enough to pierce the wind’s howling embrace, but they carried the weight of her fear. It wasn’t solely the phantoms or the lurking dangers that frightened her. It was the unknown—the uncertainty of what lay ahead, the nagging worry that they might not reach safety or that they were merely driving toward greater peril.

The cold breeze continued to sweep through the broken windows, a constant reminder of their vulnerability. Y/N shivered again, wrapping her arms tighter around herself as if to shield against the creeping fear.

For now, they clung to the hope that they were heading toward safety, that this fragile moment of calm wouldn’t shatter. But deep down, Y/N knew that fear would follow them, no matter how fast they drove or how far they traveled. The night stretched on, the road winding endlessly ahead, and with each passing moment, the tension tightened its grip, refusing to relent.

—

Author's Note:

Hello, everyone! I sincerely apologize for my unexpected absence over the past month. Thank you for your patience as you pondered my whereabouts and existence during that time. Your support means a lot to me! If you notice any grammatical errors in my writing, I hope you’ll forgive them. I'm always striving to improve, and your understanding helps me stay motivated.

I’m excited to share more of the story with you, and I truly appreciate your continued interest. Stay tuned for more updates, and as always, feel free to share your thoughts and feedback!

Thank you for being such an amazing audience!