The Missing Boy

Chapter Five - Hidden Journal

The sun was setting as Alex and Ethan sat on the edge of Simon's bed, the room silent except for the occasional creak of old floorboards. It had been a long, exhausting day, one filled with fragments of information that only deepened the mystery around Simon's disappearance.

Alex ran his hand over the worn, wooden desk in Simon's room. It was a quiet place, filled with dusty shelves of books and half-finished drawings scattered across the room. The sight of it felt like a punch to the gut—everything here was so... Simon, but Simon was gone.

Ethan was rifling through a stack of notebooks, his expression hard to read. "You think there's anything here that could help?"

Alex sighed, the weight of everything crashing down on him. "There has to be. We're missing something."

And then, almost as if fate had heard him, Alex's hand brushed against the edge of the desk drawer. There was a subtle, but distinct bump beneath the wood, almost like the drawer was uneven.

"What the...?"

He leaned closer, prying at the wood, until a small panel popped loose, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside, nestled among papers and loose sketches, was a small, worn journal. 

Simon's journal.

The Journal:

Alex opened the journal, heart racing as he skimmed the first few pages. The writing was erratic, the words sometimes trailing off mid-sentence, as if Simon's thoughts were too fast for his hand to keep up. The further Alex read, the more unsettled he became.

It started with simple entries: notes about school, small complaints about classmates. But quickly, the tone shifted. The handwriting became sloppier, the sentences more fragmented.

"I hear things at night. I don't know if it's real. I want it to stop, but it won't."

Ethan leaned over, reading silently alongside Alex. "What does he mean, 'hear things'? You think he was losing it?"

Alex shook his head, flipping the page. "I don't know."

"The woods... they're watching. I can feel them watching. Every time I go, it gets worse. I have to stop going, but I can't. They won't let me leave."

Ethan's face darkened. "The woods again."

Alex's mind raced. Simon had mentioned the woods to several people, but now it was clear that whatever was happening out there had been tormenting him for months. His paranoia wasn't just in his head—he genuinely believed something was watching him.

"I've seen them. I don't know what they are, but they're not human. They... want something from me."

The more Alex read, the more disturbing the entries became. Simon's journal chronicled not just his daily life but a descent into fear and madness. He wrote about sleepless nights, about shadows moving at the edge of his vision, and strange symbols he kept seeing in the woods.

"They told me I have to finish the ritual. If I don't, something bad will happen. I don't want to do it, but I don't have a choice."

Alex's throat tightened. "A ritual?"

Ethan sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. "He was mixed up in some seriously dark stuff. This ritual... maybe it's connected to that group we've been hearing about."

"I can't trust anyone. They're watching me, even in school. I thought Alex would help me, but I was wrong. He doesn't care."

Alex froze. His name stared back at him from the page, and for a moment, his chest tightened so much he could barely breathe. Simon had thought about him—during all of this—and believed he didn't care. The guilt crashed down on Alex like a tidal wave.

Ethan noticed the sudden shift in Alex's expression and glanced over. His eyes softened slightly when he read the passage. "You couldn't have known, Alex."

But Alex couldn't shake the gnawing feeling in his gut. If only he'd noticed sooner. If only he'd reached out, maybe Simon wouldn't have gotten so tangled up in this mess.

They continued reading, each page drawing them deeper into Simon's thoughts—his growing paranoia, his fear of the group, and the strange things happening in the woods. But what caught Alex's attention most was the increasingly cryptic nature of the entries.

"I saw something last night. In the woods. It wasn't real, but it was. I can't explain it. But I'm not crazy."

Simon wrote about seeing things—shadowy figures, strange lights in the woods. He described hearing voices, whispers that called his name, begging him to come closer. But every time he did, something stopped him.

"I think I'm being followed. They want me to finish the ritual, but I don't know if I can. I'm scared. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

Ethan frowned his voice low. "He was scared out of his mind. But of what?"

The final entries were shorter, more erratic, and filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

"It's too late. They're coming for me. I tried to stop it, but it's too late. I'm sorry."

Alex closed the journal, his heart pounding. "Simon wasn't just running from something. He was trapped."

The journal revealed more than just Simon's internal turmoil. It hinted at something supernatural—something that had been stalking him for months. His paranoia wasn't unfounded, and the group's influence on him ran deeper than anyone had suspected. There was a ritual, something Simon had been forced to participate in, but the journal was vague about the details.

Alex clenched his fists, anger and guilt twisting in his chest. "We need to find out what this ritual was. Whatever Simon was trying to stop, it's connected to why he's gone."

Ethan nodded, though his expression was grim. "And if he didn't finish it, that means whatever was after him might not be done."

As the sun set completely, and the room was bathed in the dim light of the fading day, Alex and Ethan sat in silence. The journal had given them more questions than answers, but one thing was clear—Simon hadn't just disappeared. He had been taken by something far worse than they could have imagined.

They had to go back to the woods.