Chapter 4: Threads of the Forgotten

Angelo woke up in a cold sweat, his mind still replaying the moment from last night. You're not supposed to remember. Those words clung to him like an unfinished thought, gnawing at the edge of his consciousness.

He sat up, rubbing his face, trying to push away the unease settling in his chest. This was getting ridiculous. First the strange feelings, now a mysterious figure appearing in his room? He wasn't the type to believe in ghosts or premonitions, but something about this felt… different.

"Man, I need coffee," he muttered, dragging himself out of bed.

Stepping into the small kitchen, he found Annabel standing by the fridge, dressed in her usual oversized T-shirt and shorts, scrolling on her phone. She barely acknowledged his presence as she grabbed a carton of juice.

"You look like trash," she said without looking up.

"Good morning to you too," Angelo muttered, opening the cabinet for coffee.

"Seriously, you okay?" She finally glanced up. "You look like you saw a ghost."

I think I did, he thought. But instead, he shrugged. "Just didn't sleep well."

Annabel stared at him for a moment longer before rolling her eyes. "Yeah, no surprise there. You've been weird lately."

He sighed, deciding not to push the conversation further. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a sip, hoping it would clear his head. It didn't.

As he sat down at the small dining table, Emmanuel walked in, yawning loudly. "Yo, what's for breakfast?"

"Make your own," Annabel said.

Emmanuel scowled. "Rude."

Angelo wasn't paying attention to their usual sibling bickering. His mind was too tangled with thoughts. His dad was in another state, living with his youngest sister, Gift. His half-mom, Nancy, was in France, working to support them. And here he was, stuck in the middle, living with Annabel and Emmanuel under the care of Cordelia, their guardian.

A part of him wondered if he should call his dad. He hadn't spoken to him in a while, and—

His phone buzzed, breaking his thoughts. He glanced at the screen.

JJ: Yo, you on your way to the tutorial center?

Right. He had classes today.

---

Angelo arrived at the tutorial center later than usual, still feeling off. As he walked in, he spotted Jade at the back of the room, her sewing kit beside her as she worked on a fabric sample.

"Late again," she said without looking up.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slumping into the chair beside her.

She glanced at him and frowned. "Okay, seriously, you look awful. What's up?"

Angelo hesitated. Should he tell her? He had no real explanation for what was happening, but keeping it to himself wasn't helping either.

"I saw something last night," he said finally.

Jade raised an eyebrow. "Something?"

"A person. Or… something like a person. They were in my room, but when I looked again, they were gone."

Jade stared at him. "Angelo. Do you need therapy?"

"I probably do, but that's not the point."

JJ and Eli walked over at that moment, catching the tail end of the conversation.

"What's this? Angelo losing his mind?" JJ teased.

Eli smirked. "That was inevitable."

Angelo groaned. "You guys suck."

Jade leaned back. "So, let me get this straight—you're saying some mysterious figure showed up in your room and then disappeared?"

"That's what I just said, yes."

JJ laughed. "Bro, you're probably just sleep-deprived."

"That's what everyone keeps saying."

Eli shrugged. "Because it's probably true."

Jade, however, wasn't entirely dismissive. She tapped her fingers against the table, thinking. "Well, if you're really seeing things, maybe it's not just sleep deprivation. Could be stress."

"Or," JJ said with a dramatic gasp, "ghosts."

Eli smirked. "Yeah, maybe a vengeful spirit is haunting you."

"Har har. Very funny," Angelo deadpanned.

"Hey, if you get possessed, just let me know," JJ said. "I'll record it and make millions."

Angelo rolled his eyes. "Glad to know you care."

Jade shook her head. "Well, whatever it is, you should probably do something about it. If it happens again, try taking a picture or something."

Angelo nodded, though he wasn't sure how much good that would do.

---

That night, Angelo lay awake, waiting.

The air was still, silent.

Nothing happened.

Hours passed.

He sighed and turned over, closing his eyes. Maybe it really was just stress.

Then—

A whisper.

"You're not supposed to remember."

Angelo's eyes snapped open.

Someone was standing at the foot of his bed again.

His breath caught in his throat. The figure was the same—blurred, shifting, wrong.

Angelo sat up, heart pounding. "Who are you?"

The figure tilted its head.

Then, in a voice that echoed strangely, it said, "You forget because you must."

Angelo felt a chill run through him.

"What do you mean?"

The figure didn't answer.

Instead, it took a step back—and vanished.

Just like before.

Angelo clenched his fists.

This wasn't normal.

Something was wrong with him.

And he was going to find out what.