Don't Trust The Quiet

Chapter 20: Shadows of the Past (Emma's POV)

The air felt thick as my mother and I approached the house that once belonged to Evelyn. Each step was heavier than the last, filled with a mixture of dread and determination. I felt as if I were walking into a dream—a dream that blurred the lines between reality and my imagination.

"Are you sure about this, Emma?" my mother asked, her voice laced with concern. "We don't have to go in."

I nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at my insides. "I need to see for myself if she's really gone."

The house loomed before us, dark and foreboding, as if it had absorbed every shadow and secret within its walls. I took a deep breath, steeling myself against the flood of memories and emotions that rushed back.

As we stepped inside, the door creaked open, revealing a dim interior that felt both familiar and unsettling. Dust danced in the thin shafts of light, and an uneasy silence hung in the air, wrapping around me like a thick fog.

"Emma," my mother said softly, stepping in after me. "Maybe we should just take a quick look around and leave."

"Just a few minutes," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. The urge to uncover the truth, to confront the remnants of my past, was too strong to resist.

The living room looked like a museum of forgotten memories. Old furniture was draped in white sheets, as if waiting for someone to return and reclaim them. I caught sight of the family photos hanging crookedly on the walls. In one of them, I saw Evelyn standing next to me, her smile wide and unsettling. My heart raced at the sight.

"Emma," my mother urged again, glancing nervously around the room. "Let's not linger. This isn't a good idea."

Ignoring her, I moved deeper into the house, my breath quickening. The shadows seemed to flicker at the edges of my vision, and I fought to keep my mind clear. She's not real. She can't hurt you. But the words felt hollow, echoing in the depths of my uncertainty.

As I made my way to the back of the house, a door caught my eye, slightly ajar. Curiosity pulled me closer, my heart pounding. I hesitated, glancing back at my mother, who looked increasingly uneasy.

"Emma, please—" she started, but I pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room.

The room was filled with old boxes and furniture covered in dust. In the center stood a small, cracked mirror, reflecting my wide-eyed expression back at me. I felt a strange pull toward it, as if it held the answers I desperately sought.

But the reflection seemed off. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a shadow behind me—something dark and shifting. I turned quickly, but there was nothing there, just the empty space and the fading light.

"Emma!" My mother's voice broke through my swirling thoughts. "Let's go!"

I stepped back, my heart racing as I fought to regain my composure. "I need to understand," I insisted, though the conviction in my voice was fading.

I moved closer to the mirror, and for a brief second, I thought I saw Evelyn's reflection—her haunting smile stretching across her face. Panic gripped me, and I stumbled back, gasping for breath. "No, no! This isn't real!"

"Emma!" My mother rushed to my side, her eyes wide with concern. "You're scaring me. Let's just leave!"

Taking a shaky breath, I stepped away from the mirror, the oppressive weight of the house closing in around me. "You're right," I murmured, my voice trembling. "I need to get out of here."

As we hurried toward the door, I glanced back one last time. The room felt like a trap, the shadows flickering in the corners of my vision. The familiar sense of dread washed over me, and for a moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that Evelyn was still watching, lurking in the depths of my mind.

Once outside, the sunlight hit me like a warm embrace, dispelling the cold air that had surrounded me inside. I inhaled deeply, trying to clear my head. "Let's go home," I said, my voice steadier now.

As we drove away, I felt a mix of relief and lingering unease. Evelyn might not be real, but the shadows she cast in my mind remained, a constant reminder of my struggles.

I turned to my mother, who glanced at me with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," I replied, though doubts crept in. Was I really okay?

As we continued down the road, I couldn't shake the feeling that this battle was far from over. The echoes of the past lingered like a ghost, reminding me that even though Evelyn was a figment of my imagination, her impact on my reality was all too real.