Ink Between Worlds

Chapter 2

Tiana

I wake up before the sun, again. The room is still, heavy with the kind of silence that settles over tired homes and forgotten dreams. I lie there, blinking at the ceiling, hoping last night was just a trick of exhaustion. But I can’t shake the feeling.

Something was outside my window.

I sit up slowly, eyes drawn to the pane of glass. It's still fogged at the edges, but I can see the tree line in the distance, unmoving. Harmless.

Still, my pulse kicks up.

I dress quickly and skip breakfast. Mama and Papa are still asleep, and I don’t want to answer questions I don’t have answers to. I sling my bag over my shoulder and head out early, not bothering to glance back.

The forest greets me with damp leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl winding down its night shift. I breathe it in, hoping it calms my nerves. But the hairs on the back of my neck are upright the entire walk.

The notebook presses against my spine like a heartbeat. I didn’t write anything new this morning. For the first time in months, I couldn’t. It’s like something was waiting for me to open that cover and summon him again.

But how can I, when I think I saw him? Bradley - A made-up man.

He’s not real. He can’t be. It's even disturbing thinking like that.

Classes blur together. I catch none of the lectures. At lunch, I stare at my sandwich under the oak tree and wonder what I’d written last night. I pull the notebook out.

The words are exactly as I left them:

"He watches her as she sleeps, unseen but ever present, a silent guardian carved from her dreams."

I close it quickly. My hands are trembling. Despite trying to make it seem like illusion, something feels off.

I need air, I need answers. But most of all, I need to stop losing my mind.

After class, I head back to the library and shelve books like a robot, Mrs. Lane the librarian, notices.

"You alright, dear?" she asks looking at my drained figure.

I nod too quickly. "Just tired." I shrug.

"Maybe take the rest of the day. You’re pale."

I mumble thanks and leave early. The cold air outside hits me like a slap, but I welcome it. My thoughts feel like they’re crawling all over me. I hurry toward the woods. No more slow walk. I need to get home. Maybe some sleep will help me sort my thoughts.

Halfway through the trees, I stop.

Footsteps, I whip around, no one.

The notebook in my bag feels heavier.

I walk faster, almost running. But the footsteps stay behind me, steady, calm, always a few paces away.

Then I trip.

A rock, a stupid, sharp rock juts up from the trail, and I hit the ground hard. My palms scrape against the dirt and leaves.

"Damn it," I mutter, blinking back tears. A shadow falls over me. I look up and freeze.

A man stands there tall and dark haired, sharp jaw with eyes like frost and fire. He kneels.

"Are you alright?" he asks, holding out a handkerchief.

My breath catches in my throat. The way he looks... His clothes...

"I... who are you?" I stammer slightly trembling.

He smiles gently, tilting his head.

"My name is Bradley." He smiles.

And my world shatters.

I scramble backward, dirt clinging to my hands. "No. No, you can't be. You're not real. You're... you're not real!" Someone I just know, he's my Bradley, I novel character.

He doesn’t move toward me. He just kneels there, hand outstretched with the handkerchief.

"I don’t want to frighten you," he says quietly. "I just want to help, Tiana."

Everything about him is wrong, Or right, too right. He looks exactly the way I described him. The small scar above his brow, the soft cleft in his chin, the calm, unreadable expression.

I shake my head. "How do you know my name?"

"I’ve always known you," he says. "You’re the one who brought me here."

My heart hammers against my ribs.

"What do you mean, 'brought you here'? You’re a character. You’re a story. I made you up."

"Yes," he says, nodding slowly. "I remember the forest first. And the pain in your writing. Then I woke up. I was standing in the trees, watching the light come through the leaves. It felt like I had always been waiting for something and then I saw you."

I stare at him, lips parted.

"You… woke up. From my notebook?" I ask.

"From your world," he says. "And all I know is that I’m meant to protect you. Love you. Be here for you. That’s all that matters."

I press a trembling hand to my chest. "You don’t exist. You’re not supposed to exist."

Bradley stands slowly, graceful and careful like he’s trying not to startle a frightened doe. "I understand this is difficult. But you feel it too, don’t you? That something has changed?"

He's right, I do, I feel it in the air. In the way the trees seem quieter than usual. The way my wolf stirs under my skin, alert and anxious.

He steps back, giving me space. "You don’t have to believe me now. I can wait. I just wanted you to know I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere."

I finally take the handkerchief and rise slowly, not daring to look him in the eye again. "If you’re really Bradley... then why now? Why appear now?"

He gives a small, almost sad smile. "Because the story needs me now. Because you need me now."

With that, he turns and walks into the trees, fading between trunks like a shadow melting into morning mist.

And I stand there, completely still, heart pounding, my entire world tilting sideways.

Did I create him? Did I bring him to life?

If so... what else have I written that might be coming next?