The boy stood in front of the bathroom mirror, a little too close, his tiny hands pressed against the cold surface. He smiled at his reflection, though it didn't smile back right away. He was used to this. It was always like that-he would smile, and then the reflection would follow, eventually. "Hi, there," the boy whispered, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet house. From the kitchen, the sound of pots clanging echoed, and his mother's humming filled the space. He could hear the rhythm of the spatula stirring in the pan, the sizzling of whatever she was cooking. His father, still seated at the dining table, rustled the newspaper, absorbed in the evening's headlines. "Mom, look, it's me," the boy called out, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He waited for her usual response-a glance over her shoulder, a quick nod of acknowledgment. But she didn't answer. She just hummed. The boy tilted his head, eyes narrowing. There was something about his reflection now that felt different, too still, too patient. "Hello?" His voice trembled slightly. "Why don't you say something?" In the reflection, his own lips parted in silent mockery. But this time, he swore it wasn't him. The boy swallowed hard, his pulse quickening. His reflection didn't mirror his every movement anymore. It was slightly delayed, like it was watching him instead. A whisper seemed to curl in the air around him, soft but distinct. "You're not alone here." His heart thudded. The voice, distant but clear, came from the mirror. "Who's there?" the boy asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His father grunted from the other room, and the boy glanced toward the dining table. His father was engrossed in his newspaper. The boy turned back to the mirror. The reflection was still staring, but now, something more than just the image of himself looked back. "Don't you want to play?" the reflection asked, its smile curling wider, unnaturally wide.

I came to The School hoping for a reset - a place quiet enough to disappear into, to breathe again without feeling like someone was waiting for me to slip. For a moment, it almost felt possible. The halls were calm. The teachers polite. The students distant but harmless. But the calm here is a trick. It always breaks. Bruce was the first one to really look at me - steady, protective, watching me like he was trying to decide if I was someone he should stand near or stay away from. Bilton followed, sharp and mean, jealousy simmering under every glance, especially when he caught me looking at the girl I couldn't stop thinking about. Kairaness. Kairaness, who avoids conversations. Kairaness, who draws things she shouldn't know. Kairaness, who looks at me like she's terrified I'll vanish the way others have. The deeper I got, the faster everything shifted. Lights flickering when no one touched them. Footsteps behind me in empty halls. Whispers that knew my name. And there were moments - too many - when I thought I'd lose her. Moments my heart almost stopped because she was right beside me, and then suddenly she wasn't. I can't lose her. Not here. Not to this place. Because The School doesn't just take students. It takes the ones who stand out. The ones who care too much. The ones who try to protect someone. Now it's not just about surviving classes or keeping my head down. It's about keeping Bruce close, keeping Bilton from breaking apart, keeping Kairaness alive long enough for all of us to escape. Before we're noticed. Before we're marked. Before we're taken like the others. And once The School decides you belong to it... it doesn't let go.

When Blade convinces his dad to take a weekend trip to a hidden mountain campsite called Shadow Hollow, he expects waterfalls, hiking, and a break from his boring life. Instead, the moment they arrive, something feels wrong - the ranger won't speak, the woods feel too quiet, and a chilling note appears at their door: They're always watching. That night, Blade wakes to an old woman hanging upside‑down outside his window, smiling with teeth that shouldn't exist. Determined not to run, Blade pushes forward... until a scream in the forest leads him to a mysterious girl in a crystal‑blue dress, unconscious and alone. Saving her was the right thing to do - but bringing her back to the cabin may have been the mistake that changes everything. Because the shadows in these woods aren't empty. They're alive. And they've been waiting for him. Shadow Hollow is a cinematic YA horror‑thriller about faith, fear, and the bond that forms when two strangers are forced to survive something no one else would believe. Perfect for readers who love emotional storytelling, supernatural danger, and stories that keep you up at night.