Windridge Notes

Chapter 2 | Wonder

W O N D E R

. . .

I remember that night so clearly. We just sat by the top of the slide in silence for what felt like hours, both of us staring up at the sky, lost in our own thoughts.

Liam had been quieter than usual, distant. His eyes looked like they were searching for something far beyond the stars. I noticed it, of course, but I didn't push. I never did. Liam was always the type to keep things to himself until he was ready to talk.

I figured that night was no different.

But now... looking back, I wish I had pushed. I wish I'd asked more questions, and paid more attention to the things Liam wasn't saying. Maybe if I had, things would've turned out differently. Maybe then, he wouldn't be just another memory that haunts me.

"Bro, do you ever wonder what's out there?" Liam had asked out of the blue, breaking the silence. His voice had this soft, fragile quality to it like he was barely holding himself together.

I remember turning to him, confused. "Huh? Out where?"

"Out there," he said again, waving his hand vaguely toward the sky. "Beyond all of this. Beyond Windridge. Beyond... everything."

I frowned, not really sure what he was getting at. "I don't know, bro. I guess I've never really thought about it."

That's when he smiled. But it wasn't the kind of smile that reached his eyes. It was the kind of smile that hid things. "Maybe you should," he said.

It was such a strange thing to say. At the time, I just brushed it off, thinking Liam was in one of his philosophical moods. He had those from time to time, where he'd get all deep and talk about life like he was carrying the weight of the world. But now... now those words won't stop echoing in my head.

Maybe you should.

Maybe I should've thought more about what was out there—beyond the world we knew, beyond the small village of Windridge, beyond the life we had built for ourselves.

Maybe if I had, I would've seen the cracks in Liam's facade before it was too late. I would've noticed the signs—the way his smile didn't quite match his eyes, the way his laughter sometimes felt forced. I would've realized that he was struggling long before things spiraled out of control.

But I didn't. I didn't see any of it.

And now, all I have left is this two-sentence letter. This cryptic message that Liam—or whoever—left behind, like some kind of twisted treasure hunt, makes me go on a journey I'm not even sure I'm ready to take.

I keep thinking about that night, the way Liam looked at the stars as if he was searching for an escape, something bigger than this world. And I wonder... did he find it? Or was this all just a desperate cry for help that I was too blind to hear?

Either way, I'm here now. Following the trail he left for me, trying to piece together whatever he wanted me to see... or to know. Is this a puzzle of his life? His pain? Or maybe... just maybe, my own?

The sun was dipping lower behind the trees as I made my way through the narrow streets of Windridge. My steps were slow, and deliberate, like I was trying to stall what was coming. The playground had always been a place of happiness for me and Liam, a refuge from everything else. But now, it felt heavy, like a weight I wasn't sure I was ready to carry.

When I rounded the corner, the familiar sight of the small playground came into view. It looked just as old and worn as I remembered—rusted swings creaking in the wind, a crooked slide that hadn't been safe to use in years, and that old wooden seesaw that was splintered at the edges. But despite all the decay, the playground seemed to stand as it always had, like time hadn't touched it at all.