Chapter 2: The Curse Unveiled: "The past never stays buried. And some curses never die."

The morning sun rose sluggishly over Sathit Chao Phraya High School, its orange glow spilling through the classroom windows. But even the warmth of the new day couldn't chase away the chill that had settled deep in Praew's bones. Her eyes were heavy, her thoughts clouded with the strange events of last night.

She had barely slept, the doll's whisper still echoing in her mind like a broken record. "Free me…" It repeated over and over, a sound like wind rustling through dead leaves. Praew had tried to ignore it, tried to convince herself it was just a nightmare, but the cold feeling never left her.

Now, as she walked down the hallways, the once-familiar surroundings of her school seemed to close in on her. The walls, the floors, even the air—it felt as though the school itself was alive, watching, waiting.

"Praew!" Meen's voice broke through her haze, and Praew turned to see her best friend jogging toward her, concern etched on her face. "You look pale. You okay?"

"I'm fine," Praew replied, though her voice betrayed her. "Just… didn't sleep much last night."

Meen didn't seem convinced, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she gave Praew a sympathetic smile. "Well, maybe you should take a break. We're going to the library after class to study for the upcoming math test. You should come with us."

Praew nodded absentmindedly, her thoughts still swirling around the doll. *Why can't I just get rid of it?* she thought. *It's just a doll, it can't be real.*

But deep down, she knew the truth. The doll wasn't just a doll—it was something far more sinister, a curse that had latched onto her from the moment she touched it. And no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, it wasn't going to let go.

As she entered the classroom, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The air was thick with tension, and the murmurs of her classmates seemed distant, as if they were all speaking through a fog. She took her seat, trying to focus on the teacher, who was writing formulas on the board, but her mind kept drifting back to the doll.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence—a voice that wasn't her own. "Praew," it whispered, faint but unmistakable.

She froze. Her heart pounded, and she glanced around the room, but no one seemed to notice. The class continued as usual, oblivious to her growing unease. *No, it's just my mind playing tricks on me,* Praew thought, trying to calm herself.

But the voice came again, louder this time, sending a jolt of fear through her. "Praew… help me..."

She spun around, her gaze darting to the windows, the door, anywhere but the doll still hidden in her bag. She had left it at home, away from the chaos of school—but she could feel its presence, like a shadow lurking just behind her.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and Praew snapped back to reality. She stood up quickly, gathering her things. She needed to get out of there. She couldn't stay in the classroom any longer, not with the whispers following her every move.

Meen caught up with her just outside the door. "You sure you're okay? You look like you're about to pass out."

Praew didn't answer right away. She was still haunted by the voice she had heard in the classroom, the same eerie whisper from the night before. "I'll meet you at the library later," she said, her voice distant. "I need to… take care of something."

Without waiting for Meen's response, Praew turned and walked quickly down the hallway, her mind racing. She couldn't stay at the school—not while the doll's curse lingered. She needed answers, needed to understand what she was dealing with.

As she passed the old storeroom, the one where she had found the doll, she felt a sudden pull, as if the room itself was calling to her. The door stood ajar, as though inviting her in.

Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward, her feet moving on their own. The darkness inside the storeroom seemed to swallow her whole, and the air grew colder with every step.

And then, in the far corner of the room, something caught her eye. It was a book, ancient and covered in dust, as if it had been untouched for years. *The Curse of the Doll,* the title read, etched into the leather cover in faded gold letters.

Her heart skipped a beat. She knew, somehow, that this was the key.

Without hesitation, Praew opened the book, the pages cracking as she turned them. As she read the first few lines, a chill ran down her spine. The words seemed to jump off the page, as though they were alive.

*"The doll is not just a toy; it is a vessel for the spirit of a tormented soul. Once it finds its host, it will not rest until it has consumed their soul completely."*

Praew closed the book with a slam, her hands trembling. She had been right. The doll wasn't just cursed—it was evil, a force of darkness that would stop at nothing to claim her.

And as she stood there in the silent, forgotten storeroom, the whispers returned, louder than ever.

"Praew... help me..."