CHAPTER 4
943 Words
Forget what Harry said, Eli. You need to do this so all this nonsense can stop.
Eli, why are you so hung up on this one missing bully? He made your life a living hell, and now he’s gone. You should be relieved. Celebrating.
Why does his face—mocking, taunting—follow you everywhere?
Yet all you can think about is finding him. No wonder Harry’s so mad at you.
"Harry’s not mad—he’s disappointed."
There goes that familiar voice again. I don’t even flinch this time. He’s not going to startle me, not anymore. I look up into the mirror, and sure enough, there he is.
He’s behind me, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing at his lips.
“So you’re speaking about yourself in the third person now?” I narrow my eyes at him. “How do you even know what I was thinking?”
Harry doesn’t answer. He just watches me, unreadable.
His presence feels heavier. Darker.
I turn to face him properly, but—he’s gone.
A rush of cold air prickles my skin. I whirl around, searching. The room is empty.
I rush to the window and glance down the ladder. Nothing. No way he got down that fast.
I press my fingers against my temples, exhaling sharply. Maybe I really am going crazy.
You don’t have time for this, Eli. You have to find Alex. You have to make all this weirdness stop. It’s the only way.
I grab my sneakers from the closet, but something else catches my eye.
A box.
A matte black box, sitting neatly where my shoes should be.
I stare at it, pulse spiking. I didn’t put it there.
My fingers twitch at my sides, heart pounding in my ears.
Did Harry put it here?
Does that mean he’s responsible for the notebook too?
I reach for it, but my hand is shaking. I hesitate. The last time something appeared in my room, it belonged to a bully who turned up missing.
Steadying myself, I grab the box.
It’s cold. Metal. That’s weird. I don’t own anything like this. But somehow, it feels… familiar.
I pull it out, fast—like ripping off a bandage.
The weight of it in my hands sends a sick feeling through me.
I lift the lid.
Inside, resting on a black velvet cushion, is a ring.
A silver ring with a dark, carved stone.
I’ve seen this before.
The sight of it slams into me like a freight train.
The world tilts.
A flash of heat tears through my skull, so sudden and violent I stagger back, gripping the wall as my knees threaten to give out.
And then—
Harry is standing over Alex.
"We have to clean this up, Eli."
His voice is different. Stern. Not the cocky, exasperating Harry I know.
"First, we have to take this."
He reaches down and slides a ring off Alex’s finger.
That ring.
The same one in the box.
As he hands it to me, that smirk creeps onto his face, stretching wider.
"The box is right behind you," he says. "Just put it in."
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The box crashes to the floor, its sharp metallic ring slicing through the silence.
My chest tightens. My lungs won’t work.
There’s no air. No air.
My chest is collapsing in on itself, crushing me from the inside out. The walls feel too close. I squeeze my eyes shut, but I can still see it. The ring. Harry’s hand. Alex on the bed.
No. No. No.
What does this mean?
Did Harry do something to Alex? Is that why he’s been acting so strange?
Did I have something to do with it?
Did I help him?
I stagger back, hitting the wall, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
"Eli, get a grip."
That voice.
My breath catches in my throat. An eerie sensation trickled down my spine. A chill spreads through my limbs.
I wrap my arms around myself, humming a tune under my breath. Drown him out. Block him out.
"You’re finally remembering."
I can hear the grin in his voice.
"That’s great. Maybe we can finally stop pretending nothing happened."
A surge of anger builds in my chest.
That smirk. That damn smirk.
I want it gone.
I want it wiped off his face.
I lunge foward, my hand moves before I even know what I’m doing.
SMACK!
The sharp sound echoes through the room.
SMACK!
For a second, everything is still.
My hand stings.
I don’t realize what I’ve done until I see the look in his eyes.
Shock. Confusion.
And then rage.
The smirk is gone.
I blink, my chest rising and falling too fast. I did that. I actually did that.
My knees buckle, and I sink to the floor, my pulse roaring in my ears.
What have I done?
Harry doesn’t speak. He just stares at me, jaw clenched. His expression unreadable.
The silence is suffocating.
Then, finally— A low chuckle. Not amusement. Something darker.
I can barely breathe but I don’t look away. I can’t.
I can’t let him see me like this. Weak. Shaking.
I need to keep it together.
I force myself to breathe, to steady my hands. Harry is watching me, waiting. For what? For me to break? For me to remember more?
I need to find Alex. I’m the only one who can figure out what happened to him.
I need to figure out what Harry is hiding.
I don’t know what happened to Alex. But I know Harry does.
And if I keep digging…. I’m afraid I will too.
- Writer
