5/31/2026

dear diary,

it's been 286 days since i have been out of the mental hospital, 411,840 minutes since i've killed my parents, and 24,710,400 seconds since i've breathed fresh air, and all of it was worth it.

The torture they put me through, all came down to their own daughter stabbing them 1035 times. Payback of them hitting me 1035 times when they started to drink.

I need to admit that staying in this small enclosed room with barely anything is nothing but depressing, but the sight of the biggest traitors lying dead in front of you erases the pain. At the end the surroundings really don't matter, at all.

The only things i miss is my childhood. The laughter, the happiness, movie nights, day out with friends, and no drinking.

Now i just count the seconds, minutes, hours, days and years, the only thing keeping me entertained. It feels weird holding my own diary and pen after almost a year of not writing, but it also feels good because the hospital found it in the ruins of my burnt homeand gave it back to me.

Sometimes, i do need to kill peopleget rid of people to satisfy myself, and i am not afraid or ashamed to admit it,or show it.

In a small town, nestled between rolling hills and vibrant fields, lived two families: the Johnsons and the Smiths. For years, these families had been embroiled in a bitter feud over a piece of land that both claimed as their own. The animosity between them grew, fueled by misunderstandings and harsh words. Neighbors whispered about the feud, and the children of both families were raised to believe that the other family was the enemy.

One day, a severe storm swept through the town, causing significant damage to both families' properties. As the storm passed, the Johnsons found their barn destroyed, while the Smiths’ crops were ruined. In the aftermath, the townspeople gathered to help those in need. It was during this time that a young girl named Lily, the daughter of the Johnsons, noticed that the Smiths were struggling to salvage what was left of their crops.

Lily remembered the words of her grandmother, who often quoted the Bible: “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:31-32, ESV). Inspired by this teaching, she decided to take action.

With a heart full of love and compassion, Lily approached the Smiths’ property. She offered to help them with their remaining crops, despite the feud that had kept their families apart. At first, the Smiths were hesitant, unsure of her intentions. But as they saw her genuine desire to help, they began to let go of their resentment.

As the days passed, the Johnsons and Smiths worked side by side, repairing fences and replanting crops. They shared stories, laughter, and even tears as they realized how much they had missed by holding onto their grudges. The walls of judgment and condemnation began to crumble, replaced by a spirit of grace and understanding.

One evening, as the sun set over the horizon, the two families gathered for a meal together. They shared their experiences, their fears, and their hopes for the future. In that moment, they recognized the truth of the biblical verse: “Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8, ESV). They realized that love had the power to heal wounds that had festered for far too long.

As the seasons changed, so did the relationship between the Johnsons and the Smiths. They became friends, allies, and even partners in business. The children of both families played together, and the townspeople marveled at the transformation. The feud that once defined their lives was replaced by a legacy of love, grace, and forgiveness.

In the end, the story of the Johnsons and the Smiths became a testament to the power of love ruling over judgment, grace triumphing over condemnation, and forgiveness conquering bitterness. They learned that, as it says in Colossians 3:13, “...forgive each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

And so, in that small town, love reigned supreme, reminding everyone that the bonds of community are strengthened not by the absence of conflict, but by the presence of grace and forgiveness.

“Last call for passengers boarding American Airlines flight 184. I repeat, last call for passengers boarding American Airlines flight 184 at gate C11, departing for Paris. We will be closing the gate in five minutes.”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!”

A frazzled forty- or fifty-something woman with frazzled red hair ran through the airport, the rollers of her suitcase rumbling across the tiled floor, the handbag slung over her shoulder bouncing around and threatening to slip. Nobody paid her any mind as she dodged and weaved through the crowded terminal. Everybody had their own luggage in hand and thoughts on their minds. She wasn’t the only one in a rush.

The slowpokes who had arrived at their destination and were now enjoying a Sunday stroll were really getting on her nerves.

She saw the sign with the big, bold letters: C11. “Wait! I’m here! Flight 184 to Paris! Wait!”

The stewardess behind the podium turned a sympathetic gaze on the woman racing toward her. This was not the first time she’d seen a passenger in such a state, and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. She also knew at a glance the suitcase rolling behind the passenger was over the size limit.

“I’m here,” the red-head gasped, letting go of the suitcase handle to rummage through her purse. The suitcase fell over backwards. “Boarding pass, boarding pass, boarding pass… There it is! Oh, but you need my ID, don’t you?” She presented the boarding pass to the stewardess and resumed digging, now for her identification. “I’m so sorry, it’s been a day. My car overheated, and I had to call a tow truck and then get an Uber, and… ID! Here you go. Oh, my suitcase…”

“Welcome to flight 184 to Paris, Ms. Sally Fields,” the stewardess said on script, scanning, tearing, and stamping by habit. “I’m afraid you’ll have to check that suitcase.”

“Oh, I… Oh, no.” Sally seemed at a loss for words, too flustered to respond. Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out.

The stewardess felt bad for her. The woman in the picture on Sally’s ID had a bright smile and a fair, freckled face framed by red curls that were somehow both messy and neat. She looked put together, confident.

But the woman standing before the stewardess had a face so flushed her freckles were invisible, a veritable mane of matted red hair, and, when the stewardess looked down at the suitcase, she also noticed the woman was wearing mismatched shoes.

“I’ll take care of it, ma’am. You’re welcome to board. Enjoy your flight.”

Sally sighed, her shoulders slumping as the tension drained out of them. “Thank you so much.”

It was a striking contrast. Sally, in a state, and the stewardess, looking like she could model for Stewardess Weekly at the drop of a hat. A perfect tailored suit jacket and skirt over a wrinkle-free button-down shirt, black flats polished to a high shine, makeup that enhanced her almond-shaped dark chocolate eyes and brought a radiant glow to her milk chocolate skin, and black hair cropped close to her head. An exotic beauty with the body of a supermodel and a smile Oprah would envy.

A woman Sally tried not to envy as she walked past the stewardess and into the tunnel connecting the gate to the plane.

She needed this vacation.

The other stewardesses welcoming her onto the plane were as neat and organized as the first stewardess, although none matched her in beauty. Sally reminded herself they were on the job. They had to look good. She put in an effort when she was working, too.

Most of the time.

She consulted her boarding pass again for her seat number. It was probably the only empty seat left on the plane.

There it was. Right on the aisle. Perfect.

With no carry-on to stow in the luggage compartment, she immediately dropped into her seat, dropped her purse on her lap, fastened her seatbelt, and opened her purse for another rummaging session.

“Sally?”

She froze.

She turned her head slowly.

Her ex-husband was sitting right next to her.

“Oh, no. Stewardess!” She raised her voice and her hand. “Stewardess!”

Her ex sighed. “Don’t make a fuss about it, Sally. Surely we can handle one plane flight without killing each other.”

Sally’s head whipped around to face him, her green eyes flashing, her lips set in a scowl. “What are you even doing on this flight? You never told me you were going to Paris.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. We’re not married anymore. But since you’re asking, what are you doing on this flight? You never told me, either!”

“Is there a problem?” asked a stewardess. This one was a petite blonde with a peaches and cream voice.

Sally’s mane of red hair whipped her ex in the face when she jerked her head around to look up at the stewardess. “Is there any way I can change my seat?”

Those perfect cupid’s bow pink lips gave Sally a perfect sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid not. Every seat is taken.”

Sally sighed. “Well, thank you, anyway.”

She sagged back in her seat, resigned to a horrible flight. The stewardess left, and the man in the seat on Sally’s right hesitated.

“Have you taken Dramamine yet?”

“Oh…” She sat up straight again, digging through the mess that was her purse for the little tube of pills. Just because the company would be horrible didn’t mean she wanted to spend the entire flight in the bathroom vomiting. “Darn it. I forgot my water…”

“Here.”

She frowned at the bottle of Aquafina thrust in her face. It had been five years since she’d last shared anything with this man, and she didn’t want to break that streak by sharing his germs.

But, again, it was better than vomiting.

Somewhat.

“Thanks,” she muttered, taking the bottle with the greatest reluctance.

He watched her toss two pills in her mouth and swallow them with a big gulp of water. And another gulp. And another.

“Hey, stop chugging it. I’d like something to drink, too.”

She shot him another glare as she screwed on the cap. “They’ll serve refreshments.”

“Not right away.”

She shoved the bottle in his chest. “Here.”

“A little ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

“I already thanked you.”

Back to rummaging in the purse. This time, the object she wanted was much easier to find. It was the biggest thing in there.

“You’re not planning on working, are you?”

Sally bent over and stuffed her purse under the seat in front of her, clutching her laptop on her lap. “I just have a few notes to finish from my patients yesterday.”

He sighed. “Sally—”

“I don’t want a lecture on work-life balance from a man who could never find the time to leave the office and come home.”

A sullen silence fell between them. She opened her laptop, logged in, and pulled up the practice management software. A Sticky Note on the desktop listed the names of the patients whose notes she needed to finalize.

“‘Teddy Boo-Boo’?” her ex asked. “‘Mr. Snuffles’? What was it, let your five-year-old name your dog day?”

“Teddy Boo-Boo was named by a five-year-old twelve years ago. The family brought him in for euthanasia. Including the now seventeen-year-old boy bawling his eyes out.”

Her ex’s smirk slipped from his face. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

Sally sighed. “You had no way of knowing.”

“That sounds pretty rough.”

She shrugged. “Comes with the job.” She sighed again. “But yeah. I’ve been seeing Teddy Boo-Boo since he was a puppy, and that boy came to every appointment unless he had school or was sick. He really loved that dog.”

She pulled up the SOAP notes for yesterday. Her veterinary assistant had already filled everything out during the appointment, but it had been a long day, and she had no time to review them before she had to leave to make her kids dinner. She’d startled both her seventeen-year-old boy and her golden retriever with the bear hugs she gave them when she got home.

The golden retriever loved it. The teenager pretended to hate it.

Subjective:

Teddy Boo-Boo is a 12-year-old golden retriever presenting for humane euthanasia. Health has been deteriorating for months, O concerned about P’s QOL. Wants private cremation.

Nothing to add there.

Objective:

T: 99.5 P: 60 R: 12

Normal temperature, but lower than Teddy’s usual. Same with heart and respiratory rates.

bcs: 3/9 (50 lb)

He’d been losing weight steadily for a while now. She remembered when he was a seventy-pound dog with strong muscle definition beneath a rich, flowing amber coat.

msi: significant generalized muscle atrophy, dull hair coat

And so it went. All the physical examination findings that confirmed what she already knew: Teddy’s health had declined and he had a poor quality of life. It was time.

Assessment:

She stared at the blank section. Her veterinary assistant hadn’t filled it in, but that wasn’t unusual. Especially when there was no definitive diagnosis.

Assessment:

Poor quality of life

That was all she could say. The battery of tests she’d performed over the past months were all inconclusive, and the family couldn’t afford to take Teddy to a specialist. And he was a twelve-year-old golden retriever. Even if they found the cause and could afford treatment, what would that buy him? Another year, maybe?

Plan:

Treatment:

Placed 18g IVC right cephalic

Butorphanol (10 mg/mL) __ mL IV @ 5:15 pm

Euthasol (__ mg/mL) IV __ mL @ 5:20 pm

Verified cardiac arrest.

Prognosis: Guarded without further diagnostics and treatment

Client education: Discussed prognosis with client. Elected for humane euthanasia with private cremation. Declined necropsy.

Follow-up care: N/A

The veterinary assistant had forgotten to fill in some numbers. Sally knew the concentration of Euthasol off the top of her head, but she couldn’t remember how much she administered of either drug. She picked up her phone and texted Lizzie a reminder to fill that in.

“Now, on to Mr. Snuffles…”

Her ex cleared his throat. “Dare I ask?”

“He’s a Shih Tzu owned by a seventy-year-old woman who treats him like a baby. Just routine vaccinations.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

A ding overhead signified an announcement coming over the public address system. Sally kept typing as the pilot rattled off his introduction. Next came the stewardesses demonstrating the use of the oxygen masks as the pilot delivered the standard safety instructions, then the directive to put all electronics in airplane mode and stow everything for takeoff.

Sally had just snapped the laptop closed when her phone chimed.

Lizzie: Oh, crap! I forgot. Will do right now

Lizzie: Btw, we have a DKA today

Sally frowned. Diabetic ketoacidosis was an extremely complicated condition resulting from uncontrolled diabetes. It required multiple days of hospitalization with intensive care, and it was not something the veterinarian she’d left in charge had handled before. She’d been out of veterinary school and at the clinic for just over a year now, though, and she loved internal medicine cases, so she might be fine…

Sally: How’s Glitter handling it?

Lizzie: Pretty well. She didn’t want to bother you on your vacation, so she’s been texting H. Transferring to ER tonight. No freak-outs

Sally breathed a sigh of relief. Dr. Glazier’s anxiety when faced with complex cases while working alone was getting better, and Dr. Howell was a close friend and an internal medicine specialist. The patient was in good hands.

Sally:👍

Sally: Who is it, btw?

Lizzie: Muffin *gasp*

Lizzie: I know you’re shocked😉

Sally smiled and shook her head. She’d been warning Muffin’s owner about the risk of diabetes from morbid obesity, but they’d kept overfeeding the poor Chihuahua until she was easily double her ideal weight. Maybe now they’d listen.

Sally: I told them!

Sally: At least they can afford this

“Ma’am, is your phone in airplane mode?” a stewardess asked.

Sally looked up at the exotic beauty who had checked her suitcase. “Oh, uh, sorry. I’ll do that right now.”

Lizzie: Yeah, right?

Sally: Gtg

Sally: And put your phone away! You’re supposed to be working!😉

Sally swiped down from the notification bar and tapped “Airplane Mode.” Lizzie sent her a screenshot of Teddy Boo-Boo’s completed notes and a smiley face with its tongue sticking out while she did so, and Sally smiled again.

The clinic rule was no phones on the job, but Lizzie had two little kids and had to keep hers on her in case the school or daycare called about them, and she was never one to procrastinate or skip out on work because of phone use. If she was texting on the job, it was either to talk to somebody about a patient or her kids, and she was probably doing it in between notes, cleaning kennels, running blood work, and all the other myriad tasks veterinary assistants performed. No Facebook or Instagram use.

Right when Sally was about to turn close out of her messages, she saw another one pop up.

Lizzie: They sent you flowers, btw🥺

A lump rose in Sally’s throat. She put her hand to her mouth and turned her phone off, blinking furiously to stop the tears. She’d just euthanized their dog, and they’d sent her flowers.

“Something wrong?” her ex asked.

She shook her head and swallowed the lump down. “No.”

He hesitated. “Okay, well… So, Paris. How’d that happen?”

He had to raise his voice over the roar of the engines as the plane taxied along the runway. Sally turned to look at him fully and raised her voice as well.

“I won it in a radio giveaway. How about you?”

“The WRTP giveaway?”

She stared at him in surprise. “Yes. How did you know?”

He grinned. “I won it, too.”

That smile. A single butterfly that had no business getting involved in this conversation flapped its wings once in her stomach at the sight of it. That smile was the reason he’d first caught her eye when she was an undergraduate in college, and twenty-some years later, it still held all the same boyish charm.

He’d aged well. His red hair was still as vibrant as ever, the short, straight locks much neater than her mess of hair, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his green eyes added distinction to his face. A blend of boyish good looks and handsome maturity.

He still had a flat stomach, too. It made her uncomfortable about all the extra weight she was carrying.

But why should that bother her? She wasn’t trying to impress him.

“Ugh. Does that mean we’ll be staying at the same hotel, too?” she grumbled.

He shrugged. “Maybe?"

Filler Chapter

I woke to dim light and the scent of antiseptic. A soft hand resting on my shoulder.

“You’re awake. Good.”

The woman standing over me wore the standard infirmary uniform, but there was a softness in her voice I had been stolen of since arriving.

“Nurse Hailey,” she said, indicating to herself, her voice just above a whisper. “You were locked in the storage room. You’re lucky I found you when I did.”

I tried to sit up, wincing. I couldn't stay here for too long without drawing attention. The nurse gently helped me, checking for bruises.

“You need to rest, but not here too long. I pulled some strings to keep this quiet. Just… act normal when you’re out.”

Over the next day, I remained under the nurse’s care. Hailey was kind, but watchful—rushing when she heard footsteps and avoiding prolonged conversations. She gave me strange advice.

“Don’t tell anyone what happened. Just say you fainted. Don’t name names. Especially not hers.”

I didn’t understand. “Why are you helping me?”

Halley hesitated. “Because someone has to.”

The next morning, I was discharged. The nurse helped me up till the door, looked around anxiously once and said, “Be careful, Elise.”

That was the last time I saw her.

By the day after, Hailey was gone. When I asked, they said there’d never been a nurse by that name. The infirmary was being handled by someone else now. Someone colder.

Not 100% original, AI was used in the making of this chapter

After that day, the externals began. Then the semester-end exams arrived like an avalanche.Januarybecame a blur of tension and ticking clocks — PDFs flooding WhatsApp, people panicking over units they hadn’t touched, doubt circling like vultures.It was the busiest I’d ever seen our campus.

And in that chaos, I tried. I gave it what I could.Some nights I stared blankly at notes, hoping something would stick. Some days, I simply trusted intuition, muscle memory, or fate.I did what I could — the rest, I left to whatever force governs unfair results and late realizations.

Then February breezed in, bringing a short, scattered week of holidays. A blink. A breath. And just like that, the second semester began.

Five months.That’s how long the first semester lasted.Five months — that's what the calendar says. But to me, it didn’t feel like months.It felt like moments — raw, unfinished, incomplete. Like scribbles in a notebook I never meant to show anyone.

And then… something shifted.Something in the air.Something in her.

Seren.

I don’t remember the exact moment I realized it. Maybe it wasn’t a moment — maybe it was a slow unraveling.Our evening talks behind the buses — stopped.Her presence, once familiar like a hum at the back of my mind — faded.I kept telling myself it was nothing. Just timing. Just routine.But the truth has a way of finding you… when you least want it.

One day, I was with Simon. Just a regular day.And that’s when I saw them.

Her.Smiling. Laughing. Walking.And Ren.

He walked beside her — like he belonged there.

Time slowed.

She approached like everything was normal. Like my world hadn’t cracked open a little.I smiled, because what else could I do?But deep inside, I was quiet. Frozen. Trying to act okay, because that’s what we do, right?

Later that day, I asked her.“How do you know Ren?”

She said — that,“Oh… we met online,”.

Simple. Innocent. Coincidence.

That word hit harder than I expected.Coincidence.

It echoed in my mind, looping like a cruel joke.Because that’s how she and I started too.A coincidence.

Only this time, it wasn’t mine.

And in that moment, I realized something no one prepares you for —Sometimes, people slip away. Not because they mean to. Not because of a fight. But because fate hands them a different coincidence.A different thread.And you’re left holding the memory of what could’ve been.

A group of astronauts were just about to embark on a routine space mission when a massive, unexpected surge of energy tore open a rift in time and space. The next thing they knew, they were transported to a strange, alternate dimension that was unlike anything they had ever seen before. The atmosphere was thick with an otherworldly sense of dread. They had no idea how to find their way back home.

Carol opens her eyes slowly. She noticed she still had her space suit on. Confusion settles in as she realizes she is lying on the ground and not sitting in the spaceship cockpit. Her eyes look up at the ceiling of what she believes is a cave. She pushes herself up from the ground and notices the bodies of the other three astronauts lying on the ground, one after the other. Her heart begins to race wondering what had happened.

Each astronaut wakes up and picks themselves up from the ground with the same confused look, just like Carol.

They found themselves in a vast, endless tunnel filled with vivid colors and complex patterns that seemed to stretch on forever. "Where's the ship?" one of the astronauts, Jason asked in desperation. Jason was the captain in command. Carol was second to him. They immediately lock eyes. The other, Petrov responds by shaking his head with a disturbed look. The tunnel was filled with a swirling, psychedelic light show that made it appear like they were walking through a kaleidoscope.

At first, they didn't know what to make of the strange environment. The group decides to huddle together and try to come up with a plan. “First of all, is everyone alright?” Jason spoke first. Everyone nodded but it was obvious their attention wasn’t fully on Jason. They were too distracted by the strange unrecognizable environment they were in.

They needed to find a way out of the tunnel and get back home. They kept asking themselves where was home? And most importantly, where was the spaceship?

Petrov looked around, trying to get a handle on their new environment. The psychedelic tunnel was like nothing he had ever seen before. "We need to find a way out," he said, his voice determined. "And if we can't, then we need to figure out how to survive in this strange world."

The astronauts looked at each other, trying to make sense of what was going on. They didn't know where they were or how they had gotten there, but they knew they had to find their spaceship. They each look at their air supply. Jason nods, agreeing with Petrov. He clears his throat before speaking. “What we need to do in a situation like this is to remain calm, okay?” Jason points at one of the astronauts named Maranda. “Maranda…. can you please run a scan?”

Maranda snaps out of her trance, nods, and follows Jason’s instructions. Maranda gulps as she presses a few buttons on a watch that’s on her wrist. Petrov and Carol watch her closely. “Th-the scan is throwing off very confusing readings. But I can tell you this. Wherever we are, this place does not have breathable air. So, we will depend on the limited air supply we have in these suits.” Jason looks away from her and stares at the ground meditating on the situation. He bites his lips and nods again.

Jason also reaches for the watch he has on his wrist and presses a few buttons. “Okay, we have at least a few days worth of air. That’s, that’s good.”

They all decide to walk deep into the tunnel, hoping to find a way out. But after an hour of walking, the tunnel seemed to go on forever, with no end in sight. The more they walked, the more disoriented they became. They began to feel a sense of desperation creeping in, knowing that time was running out.

“Where are we?” Carol whispers to Petrov. As they continued to explore, they quickly realized that everything in the tunnel looked the same. From the multi-color ceiling to the rocky floors, to the colors and strange patterns on the cave walls. They had no idea where they were or how to return to their spaceship.

As they continue wandering through the strange tunnel, they slowly begin to accept the reality that they might never find their way out. The tunnel seemed to exist outside the confines of space and time, leaving them with no sense of direction or purpose. Jason whispers to himself as he places the palm of his right hand on the cave wall, “This makes no sense. What is going on?”

"Wait! What's the last thing you remember?" Maranda directed the question to Jason. But Jason was so frustrated he had no interest in responding. Everyone took a moment to meditate on the situation.

The walking came to a grinding halt after two hours of no end in sight. Carol spoke first. "A flash of intense light, from the cockpit. That’s, that’s what I saw. A blinding light that came out of nowhere. All I knew was that it was hard to see. Then... Then we were on the ground asleep and each one of us woke up in this tunnel together. That’s it." Everyone else looked at each other after Carol spoke. She focuses her sight on the ceiling of the cave. The strange colors slowly begin to eat away at her mind. The first moment she saw the colors, she was warm and happy. Now, she was uneasy and frightened.

The astronauts stood in a circle, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of their ship. The ceiling of the tunnel was different shades of color. There was no sign of their spaceship or any other spaceships for that matter. The only thing in sight was a large, colorful tunnel that stretched into the distance. It went on for what seemed like an eternity. “We…” Petrov sighs and continues, “We have no choice but to keep moving. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find a way out of this damn place. …whatever this place is.” He desperately tries to bring everyone’s morale up. However, it was only a matter of time before his morale broke.

As they began walking again, the bright fluorescent colors that surround them haunted them with each step they took. At first it was strange, captivating, and mesmerizing. But soon it became eerie, unsettling, and odd. Nothing to them made sense. The only thing they could do was continue walking in one direction and stare into the distance in the hopes of finding some answer to their dilemma. It was a daunting task, and their nerves were stretched to the breaking point. They all knew that they were in uncharted territory, and they were in grave danger.

Maranda had the habit of checking her watch every ten minutes. Jason noticed her actions. She kept looking at her watch to gauge how much air they had left. It was starting to become her mini obsession. The fear of dying of asphyxiation was too overwhelming for her.

Carol breaks the silence while they are walking. She presses a few buttons on her watch trying to read some information it was generating. "We must've been caught in some sort of cosmic storm or something." Her voice was shaking. Jason just shakes his head and presses on. He figures that her assumptions and theories aren’t making the situation any better.

Petrov nodded, looking around with a mixture of fear and awe. "We have to find something, anything that can help us," he said.

Jason had enough and turned around to face everyone. “All of you. Stop wasting your breath. We need to save as much of our air supply as possible. We move at a steady pace. Not too fast and not too slow. That way we don’t consume too much of it. That’s, that's the plan.” Maranda nods in agreement. From that moment on, it was obvious that Petrov and Carol did not like the captain’s tone. Every decision Jason would make would be heavily challenged by Petrov and Carol. It was clear that Maranda was on Jason’s side, while a secret alliance was formed by Petrov and Carol.

After hours of walking and arguing, Maranda has had enough. She notices the tense dynamic between the group and decides to try to mediate the situation. She gathers the astronauts in a semicircle and asks them to voice their concerns. Petrov and Carol speak up first, voicing their suspicions about Jason and how he may not have their best interests in mind. Maranda listens intently, making note of the issues that are being raised. She tells the group that it's important to have open communication, which will help build trust among members of the crew.

“You both are paranoid. Pathetic. How dare you? I’m doing my best! I’m in the same situation as all of you!” Jason turns his face away from them, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Jason composes himself and realizes that what he said was out of frustration. Jason takes the opportunity to address the concerns, reassuring the group that he has everyone's best interests in mind and that his decisions are based on their safety and survival. Maranda encourages Petrov and Carol to share their viewpoints. She encourages them to be honest and open with each other. She reminds them that they are all in this together and that working as a team will increase their chances of survival.

As the conversations progress, Maranda notices that the tensions start to ease, and the astronauts are starting to feel more comfortable with each other. She concludes the meeting by asking everyone to continue to communicate openly and to work together to find a way out of this strange environment.

As the group moves on, Petrov takes one last look at Carol. To her it was obvious that Petrov didn’t see things like Jason did. Their bond will soon deteriorate the more they press on into the endless tunnel. Paranoia will settle in as new problems will arise. The group began worrying about rest, water, and food. All Jason wanted to do was keep walking in hopes of finding the way out of the strange tunnel.

Petrov stopped walking for a moment while the rest kept the same pace. He forms a fist and whispers under his breath, “You’re killing us, Jason.” He stares directly at Jason in the distance. A cold look is on his face. His eyes are fixed on him and only him.

The police had arrived — too late.

Maya and Andrea stood frozen under the streetlamp, barefoot and shaking. Elise gripped the steering wheel tightly, watching as officers stormed the house they’d just escaped from.

But when they went inside, the house was empty. The basement door was wide open, but the space below was cold and lifeless.No sign of Elias. No blood. No footprints.

Only one thing remained on the kitchen table: a photo of Maya.

Her sleeping face captured in grainy black-and-white, folded at the corners like someone had touched it too many times.

One of the officers returned to the girls, frowning.“He’s gone. Like he knew we were coming.”

Andrea broke down. Elise wrapped an arm around her. But Maya stood completely still, staring at the photo in the officer’s hand.

She didn’t speak.

Because her heart was still echoing the last words Elias had whispered before she escaped:

“I would’ve let the world burn to keep you here.”

That night, the girls were kept in a hotel under police protection. Elise stayed nearby, watching over them.

Andrea slept with the lights on.

Maya didn’t sleep at all.

She sat by the window, staring into the darkness. Her mind kept replaying everything — Elias’s voice, his touch as he’d brushed past her shoulder when she tried to run, his eyes like frost and fire at the same time.

He hadn’t tried to kill her.

He could have. He didn’t.

And when she closed her eyes, she could still feel the way his fingers lingered at her wrist. Not to restrain her — but to remember her.

Why? Why her?

Her phone buzzed at 3:12 a.m.

Unknown number. One message:

“They won’t understand what we are.”

Her heart stopped.

She stared at the screen, hands trembling.

Another message came:

“I let you go once. Don’t make me come take you back.”

Maya turned her phone off.

But her heart didn’t stop racing — because a part of her wasn’t afraid.

A part of her wanted him to come.

The next day, Andrea found something tucked under Maya’s pillow. A small, black velvet box.

Inside was a silver locket.

No name. No note.

But inside the locket: a photo of Maya... and a bullet casing.

Andrea screamed.

Maya didn’t.

Because she understood.

This wasn’t a threat.

It was a promise.

He hadn’t disappeared. He was waiting. For her.

And as much as she hated herself for it…

She wanted to see him again.

Annabelle slowly came back to reality, only this time, she found herself in a different room, a sinister glint rested in her eyes, they can't fool me she said to herself scoffing.

She wasn't sure when and how she got here, but she knew deep down it couldn't be good. This cannot be the beginning of the trial the ethereal mentioned could it, she thinks to herself.

As she looked around the room, ultimately leaning and putting all her weight on the left leg, something on the wall caught her eye, it's a picture of Elijah and Cutler together in an embrace, the frame was so small anyone could miss it.

Elijah's face glow with genuine happiness that he looked different in the picture compared to the moment he shared with Annabelle.

Annabelle frowned not understanding why the relationship of the two in the picture scream family. Then, her mind drifted back to the time she met Elijah, rethinking if she missed any clue.

Distracted by hunger, she staggered and fell to the wooden floor, hitting her head on the sharp edge of the table she didn't notice all along, her eyes danced in circles that everything appeared In two's.

Hissing, she rubbed the red spot, using the table as a support to get back up. She froze, on the table was pancake, a bottled prune drink, two cupcakes , a mug of water, this must be a dream Annabelle said.

She licked her dried lips, her stomach rumbled, groaning for food. She bent over in discomfort, unsure if the food was safe to eat or poisoned, the corners of her mouth turned down.

Feeling drained, tired and hurt, Annabelle knew she is in a desperate need of food to recharge, the inside of her stomach was on fire and the only water to her fire is food.

As the clock struck, she turned in fear to the direction of the wall clock the same time her sister darted through the door, her eyes were bloodshot like she just fought a battle, she maintained the creepy smile on her face.

Annabelle's heart was pounding with excitement, and a mixture of fear & curiosity laced in it, wherever there is Phoebe, trouble follows.

You stink of fear, Phoebe said with cheap pride.

I can't deny the fact that I am quite open minded with my emotions, Annabelle shrugged.

Phoebe with her right elbow, hit Annabelle on the face, she fell to the floor, spitting out blood while coughing and holding her side tightly.

Next she stepped on her left fingers and pressed on deeply in circles, the brightly lit room was slowly turning dark, the sudden change of atmosphere made Annabelle  take a quick peek, she noticed the new demonic tattoo on her sister's wrist.

She smiled knowingly.

What is so funny? Phoebe asked, kneeling and pulling Annabelle hair backward with force, care to share the joke little sister, she spat with venom in her tone.

Annabelle tried to scratch Phoebe's hand to free herself but phoebe had other plans, she turned Annabelle around and dragged her to the balcony with her hair.

Annabelle cried out in pain, she was slowly loosing her voice to the lack of strength she battles with, her old wound reopened, she mumbled some curse words.

Phoebe released Annabelle's hair, but before Annabelle could crawl away, she grabbed her wounded hand pressing on the wound with all her strength, she twisted it until she heard a Crack.

Satisfied with the result she let go only after she confirmed Annabelle was in pain, but Annabelle wasn't backing down, she laughed and spat blood on Phoebe's feet, sloppily grinning.

Phoebe was fuming she didn't wait to hear Annabelle's reasons for smiling before she knocked her out cold.

When the Lion Roars, the Tiger Surrenders

A bold tale of mischief, discipline, and the roar that silenced chaos.

---

The Roar in the Alley

The neighborhood had enough.

The younger brother was notorious — a street menace, loud-mouthed, and constantly picking fights with anyone who dared cross his path. People began avoiding that lane altogether. Eventually, the neighbors decided it was time to complain.

They approached the elder brother — calm, strong, and respected by all.

"Your brother’s behavior is unbearable. He’s disturbing the peace of the entire street!"

The elder brother didn’t speak at first. He simply stood up, looked straight at his brother, and roared:

> “Do you think you're Ronaldo—fouling everyone just for fun? Life isn't a football game. And you're not the referee blowing whistles everywhere!”

> “If I hear one more complaint, I’ll tear your pants and expose your arrogance!”

The younger brother stood frozen.

The lion had roared — and the tiger had no choice but to sit down, humbled and silent.

---

📝 Moral:

If you can’t carry your family’s honor with grace, your behavior doesn’t just shame you — it stains your home and your name.

Being seen before speaking!!