THE WILLOW TREE
We were nine in total-five boys, four girls. The lockdown had trapped us all inside a house much too big and much too quiet. No one knew why we were locked in, only that escape seemed impossible, and the boredom clawed at our minds like a relentless itch.
It was on a dull afternoon that someone suggested we let the dog out. He was a white dog, not too big but not small either, with grey-blackish spots peppering his fur. He'd always been our solace, bounding around with a joyful bark, always bringing smiles. So we opened the door.
The dog never returned.
The next day, we searched for him. It was then that we found his collar, lying abandoned on the path like a forgotten memory. And there, under a blanket of fresh green leaves, we found him. His body was soft, as if death had come for him a week ago. His eyes were hollow, lifeless, and I imagined the worms that must have been eating him from the inside. A sharp shiver ran down my spine.
But the others? They laughed. They smiled, as if this death was a gift. Their joy was wrong-twisted. I didn't understand how they could stand there, admiring the decay. My stomach churned. Were they all psychos?
Suddenly, one of the boys, a lanky one with sharp eyes, began to change. His teeth-no, they weren't human anymore. They sharpened, becoming dog-like, feral. He looked at us with hunger, and that's when we realized: it wasn't just him. All of the boys had caught whatever sickness the dog had. It spread through them, turning their grins into wicked snarls, their joy into something predatory.
We ran. The girls and I, the only ones not infected, bolted through the trees. But no matter how fast we were, they were faster. We could hear them laughing behind us, closing in.
The willow tree was our salvation. Its leaves draped low like curtains, forming a secret sanctuary beneath its wide branches. We ducked inside, the leaves wrapping us in a protective cocoon. But we couldn't stay hidden forever. They circled us like wolves, playing some sick game.
Then, one of the girls pulled out a cards. "We'll play," she said. "If you fail, you die."
It was a simple game-luck-based, and luck had never been kind to me. One by one, we drew cards, our lives hanging in the balance. When one girl failed, I thought it was over for her. But they gave her a chance-a chance to replace herself with someone else. She just had to find a victim.
The girl didn't hesitate. She ran out, returning with a stranger, a girl who had been worried for us, maybe sensing that something was wrong. She approached, her face full of concern.
And then, the first girl struck her down-smashed her head in, leaving her crumpled and covered in blood.
That's when I noticed it-a door, small and unassuming, to the side of the tree. How had I not seen it before? My heart raced, full of questions. I slipped away unnoticed, my curiosity burning, and opened the door.
The Letter
Inside the room was a strange stillness, a quiet that buzzed with mystery. And then, a letter appeared on the floor, delicate and old. I picked it up, my hands trembling, and began to read:
Please come in, the door's unlocked,
That is what the letter on the door says.. So I entered the room without hesitation.
Turn to the left, where mirrors are stocked.
"Weird."
A place to change, a place to see,
But only a witch may find the key.
Rooms all around, they look the same,
But find the truth, and win the game.
"What? A game?? "
For Cira alone may seek and find,
The secrets hidden, the truth defined.
"Truth? What truth? "
The words echoed in my mind. I didn't know who Cira was, but I felt that they were speaking to me. I turned to the left, just as the letter instructed, and found the mirrors-a labyrinth of rooms, each small and indistinguishable from the next. The reflections were endless, the glass so pristine it was impossible to tell where reality ended and the illusions began.
I was stunned. Could this be real? Could it be that I-Cira-was meant to uncover the truth? The dreamlike haze of the house, the willow tree, the deadly game-it all felt like it was leading here.
But what truth awaited me in these mirrored rooms?
As I stood there, surrounded by endless reflections, the sense of dread settled deep in my bones. The truth was waiting. And somehow, I knew, there was no turning back.
