I was excited to see Nate,and I couldn't help but ask him when he was moving in. His response, however, hit me like a cold wave. “You should stop staying at the apartment. We both need to be at home instead.” The words echoed in my mind, and I felt a knot tightening in my stomach. I shook my head, refusing to comply. “No, I’m not moving back,” I said firmly, my voice steadier than I felt inside.

  “Why not?” Nate pressed, his brow furrowing with concern. I could see the confusion in his eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain. How could I? I didn’t want to go back to that house. I could already feel the memories flooding in, each one more haunting than the last. I could almost hear the whispers of the past creeping into my thoughts, reminding me of everything I wanted to forget. “I’m fine here,” I assured my brother, who was watching me with a mix of worry and disbelief. “I’ll be okay in my apartment.”

  Nate’s voice cut through my thoughts. “But why don’t you want to go back? You loved that house.” His words were like a dagger, twisting in my chest. Loved it? How could he understand? He hadn’t experienced what I had. The shadows in that house were not just memories; they were alive, lurking in the corners, waiting to pull me back into their grasp. I felt a wave of frustration rise within me. I wanted to scream, to tell him everything, but the words lodged in my throat. I couldn’t let anyone in on my secret.

  I could see Nate’s concern deepening, and I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him that it wasn’t about being alone. It was about the darkness that clung to that house, the reason I had fled to the safety of my apartment. But how could I explain something so profound, so terrifying? I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. “I just don’t want to go back,” I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

  Nate’s expression softened, but I could tell he was still searching for answers. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m here for you.” But I shook my head again, feeling the weight of my silence pressing down on me. I could see the disappointment in his eyes, and it made my heart ache. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I was trapped in my own turmoil.

  Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of silence, I sighed and relented. “Fine, I’ll move back in,” I said, even as the words felt like chains binding me to a fate I didn’t want. I could sense the relief in Nate’s posture, but inside, I felt a storm brewing. What awaited me in that house? Would I be able to face the memories that haunted me?

  As I prepared to leave my apartment behind, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was walking into a trap, one that would force me to confront the very demons I had tried so hard to escape.

  I sat in the car, the engine’s hum fading into the background as I drifted into my own world, consumed by thoughts of the monsters that awaited me within those familiar walls. Nate’s playful voice shattered the silence, jolting me back to reality. “We are home, get out, lady Noah!” he teased, but his words felt like a distant echo. I swung my legs over the edge, my gaze drawn upward to the imposing silhouette of the house. Once a sanctuary, a haven where laughter echoed and dreams were spun, it now loomed over me like a specter, heavy with the weight of deadly memories that clawed at my mind.

  “It’s just like how it was back then,” Nate remarked, his voice laced with nostalgia. I turned to him, the lifelessness of my expression betraying the turmoil within. “Yes, it is,” I replied, my voice barely a whisper. Yes, it is just as deadly as it was. The memories flooded my mind, each one sharper than the last, and before I could drown in them, Nate’s hand grasped mine, pulling me into the threshold of our past.

  We stood there, waiting for the door to open, the silence stretching like a taut wire between us. When Mr. Andrew finally appeared, the door creaking open as if reluctant to reveal its secrets, I felt a mixture of relief and apprehension wash over me. “Welcome back, my children,” he greeted us, his voice warm yet tinged with an understanding of the shadows that lingered. Nate’s smile was genuine as he responded, but I could see the worry flickering in his eyes before he slipped away to his room, leaving me alone in the dim light of the foyer.

  Mr. Andrew turned his gaze toward me, his kind eyes searching mine. “You will be okay, Noah. We are all with you,” he said, his words wrapping around me like a fragile lifeline. I felt a flicker of warmth amidst the cold dread that had settled in my chest. “I hope,” I replied, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask than a reflection of my true self. “Your room is ready. If you wish to stay in another room, I have prepared it for you,” he offered, his voice steady and reassuring.

  “No, I am fine with my room, don’t worry, Uncle,” I said, my voice steadier now, though fatigue weighed heavily on my shoulders. I gave him a tired smile, a small gesture of gratitude for his kindness, and turned to walk towards my room. Each step felt like a journey through a minefield, the memories lurking in every corner, waiting to ambush me.

  As I approached my room, the familiar scent of lavender and dust greeted me, a bittersweet reminder of the innocence that once filled these walls. I hesitated at the threshold, my heart pounding, the ghosts of my past whispering in the silence. With a deep breath, I pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges echoing like a mournful sigh. The room was just as I remembered it, but now it felt like a prison, each object a reminder of what had been lost.

  “Why did we come back?” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible in the stillness. The shadows danced on the walls, and I could almost hear the laughter that once filled this space, now replaced by a haunting silence. I closed my eyes, allowing the memories to flood in, each one a reminder of the battle I faced, not just with the house, but within myself. I was here to confront the monsters, but the question lingered—would I emerge unscathed, or would they consume me whole?

  I walked through my room, feeling the vastness of the space envelop me like a comforting shroud. It was larger than my entire apartment, a sanctuary of sorts, with the massive bed at its heart, draped in obsidian covers that seemed to absorb the light around them. The creamy curtains cascaded gracefully beside the window, their gentle folds whispering secrets of tranquility. Opposite the bed, a large mirror stood sentinel, reflecting not just my image but the echoes of my past. The grooming table, once a neglected corner of my life, now felt like a portal to memories long buried, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over me.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  As I approached the window and pushed the balcony door open, the world outside unfolded before me, revealing the most breathtaking view of the dim forest. The trees stood like ancient guardians, their silhouettes softened by the twilight, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, a fragrance that wrapped around me like a familiar embrace. I inhaled deeply, allowing the memories to flood back moments of laughter and sorrow intertwined, shaping the very fabric of who I was. Standing there, lost in the embrace of the evening, I whispered to myself, "After all, it's not bad. It feels comfortable to be back." Yet, a sigh escaped my lips, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears, as I added, "I hope things won't get worse like back then."

  Just then, I turned to see Mr. Andrew standing by the door, his presence a beacon of warmth in the dim light. His smile, genuine and inviting, cut through the shadows of my thoughts, reminding me that perhaps this return wasn't merely a retreat into the past but an opportunity for renewal. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what once was and the promise of what could be, I felt a flicker of hope ignite within me. Maybe this time, with the memories as my guide, I could navigate the complexities of the present and carve out a future that was brighter than the shadows that lingered.

  Uncle Andrew stepped onto the balcony beside me, the air thick with unspoken words, a palpable tension that seemed to hang between us. He turned to me, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and understanding. “Do you want to tell your brother everything?” he asked softly, his tone almost a whisper, as if he feared the very air around us would betray our conversation.

  I shook my head firmly, a knot tightening in my stomach. “No, Uncle. I can’t. I know it will only make him worry more. He’s already carrying so much on his shoulders.” The thought of adding to his burdens felt unbearable, as if I were trying to balance the weight of the world on my own fragile frame.

  He studied my face for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought, the lines of worry etched deeply into his skin. “But keeping this to yourself... it’s not easy, is it?” His voice was filled with empathy, and I could see the weight of my secret reflected in his eyes, a mirror to my own turmoil.

  I sighed, feeling the heaviness of my silence. “It’s haunting me, Uncle. Every day feels like a struggle, but I can’t bear to see him upset. I've held onto this for so long, and I just... I just want to protect him.” My voice trembled slightly, betraying the resolve I tried so hard to maintain. I paused, glancing at the ground, the weight of my secret pressing down on me like a stone, unyielding and cold.

  Uncle Andrew reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, grounding me in that moment. “You’re a strong person, but even the strongest need to share their burdens sometimes. What if he finds out later? How will you handle that?” His question lingered in the air, a haunting echo of my own fears.

  I looked up at him, my heart racing, the uncertainty swirling within me. “I’ll share it when the time comes,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt, but the tremor in my voice betrayed my inner turmoil. “But right now, I need to endure it for my family. They don’t deserve to worry about me.”

  Uncle Andrew nodded slowly, understanding my resolve but clearly troubled by the weight I carried. “You know I’m here for you, right? You don’t have to go through this alone. Ms. Andrew and I care about you deeply.” His words were a balm to my frayed nerves, yet I still felt an overwhelming sense of isolation in my struggle.

  “I know,” I replied, a small smile breaking through my anxiety, though it felt fragile, like glass. “You both have been my support, and I’m grateful for that. But I just need a little more time to figure things out.” The thought of sharing my burden felt daunting, like standing at the edge of a precipice, uncertain of what lay below.

  As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow around us, I felt a mix of relief and fear. The fading light mirrored the shadows in my heart, illuminating the path I had yet to take. I knew that Uncle Andrew and Ms. Andrew were the only ones who understood my struggle, and while I felt a sense of comfort in their presence, the weight of my secret lingered heavily in the air. I was determined to protect my family, even if it meant carrying this burden a little longer, even if it meant walking a path cloaked in uncertainty and silence.

  I returned to my room, the familiar scent of my sanctuary wrapping around me like an old blanket. Just as I settled in, my phone rang, and a small smile spread across my lips at the sight of Irene’s name flashing on the screen. I picked up, my heart quickening as I waited for her words to spill forth.

  "Hey! girl what's up?" her enthusiasm palpable even through the phone.

  "I’m home," I replied, trying to match her excitement. "Why don’t you and the others come over? It’s been too long since we all hung out."

  "Absolutely! We’ll be there tomorrow!" The joy in her voice was infectious, and I could almost picture her bouncing on her toes, unable to contain her excitement. After hanging up, I turned to face my closet, a small task that felt monumental in the wake of the call. Organizing my clothes, I let my mind wander, the anticipation of seeing my friends filling me with warmth.

  As I sorted through my things, something caught my eye—a feather nestled among the clutter. I paused, my breath hitching as memories flooded back. This feather, unlike any I had seen before, was adorned with golden sprinkles that shimmered against the dark, velvety backdrop. I couldn’t quite place when I had acquired it, but I remembered the thrill of finding something so rare, something that felt almost magical.

  "What kind of bird could have shed this?" I murmured to myself, running my fingers gently over its smooth edges. I had tried to research it once, scouring the internet for answers, but nothing had yielded satisfactory results. It remained a mystery, a fragment of my childhood that I cherished deeply. I walked towards the glass box where it was kept, my heart swelling with fondness.

  Before I could delve deeper into my reverie, a voice broke through the tranquility. "Hey, are you coming down for lunch or what?" Nate called from downstairs, his tone teasing yet affectionate.

  "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!" I shouted back, rolling my eyes. Typical Nate, always rushing me. I freshened up, shaking off the lingering thoughts of the feather, and made my way down the stairs, the familiar sounds of our home enveloping me.

  As I reached the dining room, I found Nate already at the table, a plate piled high with food before him.

  As I sat down for lunch, the aroma of the food filled the air, but the real flavor came from the banter around the table. I casually mentioned that my friends were coming over tomorrow, and Nate, with a mock-serious expression, chimed in, “Well, I won’t be home until the day after tomorrow. You know how it is—paperwork galore. Just got back from the States, and I’ve got a mountain of formalities piled up.”

  With a straight face, he added, “Just make sure you keep the house clean for them.” I couldn't help but burst into laughter at his exaggerated tone. “Oh, please! You think I’m going to be your maid?” I teased back, shaking my head.

  Nate shot me a playful insult in return, and I raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Just wait, Nate. I’ll get back at you for that one,” I said with a smirk, my eyes sparkling with mischief. Uncle Andrew, sitting across from us, chuckled heartily at our silliness, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

  In the midst of our playful chaos, a thought struck me, and I turned to Uncle Andrew with curiosity. “By the way, where is Ms. Andrew? I haven’t seen her since I arrived.” His expression shifted slightly, a hint of concern in his eyes. “She’ll be back before 7 from the hospital. Just a routine checkup,” he replied, his voice steady.

  A wave of longing washed over me. Ms. Andrew had always been a motherly figure in my life, her warmth and wisdom a comforting presence. “I really miss her,” I admitted, my voice softer. “I can’t wait to see her again.”

  Uncle Andrew nodded, understanding the bond we shared. "She's been looking forward to seeing you too. You know how much she cares.” I smiled at the thought, feeling a sense of anticipation building inside me as I counted down the hours until her return.