CHAPTER 9: Upstairs Light
The house went completely still after the footsteps. Even the rain outside seemed to soften for a moment, like it was waiting to see what would happen next. I stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up into the darkness where my bedroom was, feeling like the air itself had thickened. Another creak came from upstairs, slow and deliberate, like someone was testing how much noise they could make before we reacted.
Helen grabbed my arm again, but this time her grip was different. Not strong. Not controlling. Just scared.
"Don't go up there," she whispered.
"Then tell me who's up there."
She didn't answer.
That silence again.
The same silence that always meant she knew more than she was saying.
Another step came from upstairs, closer now. The wooden floor above us shifted under weight that didn't belong in this house. My phone buzzed again in my pocket, but I didn't look at it this time. I already knew it would be another message. I already knew it would make things worse.
I took one step toward the stairs.
Helen moved in front of me immediately.
"Please," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "Don't."
"You came into my house," I said quietly. "There's someone upstairs. And you expect me to just stand here?"
Her eyes flickered with something I couldn't read.
Then she stepped aside.
Not because she agreed.
Because she knew I wasn't going to stop.
I climbed the stairs slowly, each step louder than the last, the wood groaning under my weight. The hallway upstairs was dark, but my bedroom door was slightly open. A thin line of light spilled out into the corridor.
That's when I stopped.
Light.
My room light was on.
I never left it on.
I pushed the door open carefully.
At first, the room looked normal. Bed slightly messy. Window still shaking from the wind outside. But then I saw it.
The oak tree drawing I had made weeks ago was pinned on my wall.
And beneath it, someone had written something in red ink.
"YOU ARE ALREADY INVOLVED."
My breathing stopped for a second.
Behind me, I heard Helen come up the stairs slowly.
When she saw the writing, she froze.
"I told you not to come up," she whispered.
My head snapped toward her. "What is this?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she walked into the room slowly, like she already knew where everything was placed.
Like she had been here before.
That's when I noticed something else.
On my desk.
A photo.
I hadn't put it there.
It was Ezel.
But not the way I remembered him.
In the picture, he was standing in the woods.
Smiling.
Next to Helen.
And behind them—
The boy from outside.
Watching.
I turned back toward Helen.
"You said you didn't know him that well," I said slowly.
She didn't meet my eyes.
And that's when I realized something that made my stomach drop.
The room wasn't just being watched.
It had already been inside their story long before I ever stepped into it. 🌧️