Chapter 6: Something Stirs.

Chapter 6

Lily's POV

I didn't tell Grandma about the shadow.

She would've only clutched her rosary tighter and muttered prayers under her breath like she always did. And tonight... I was too tired to see that look in her eyes. The one that said she knew more than she ever dared to say.

She pulled the gate open just wide enough for me to slip through and reached for my arm, fingers brushing against my wrist like she needed to feel I was real.

"You're late," she said. Not angry — but something in her voice was pinched, like she'd been holding her breath too long.

"There were more than usual this time," I offered, holding up the basket. "Took a bit to find the good ones."

Her eyes dropped to the herbs. She nodded. "Good. These will keep the headaches down."

"Yours or mine?"

"Both," she said without missing a beat.

I smiled at that.

But her eyes lingered. Studying me.

"You stayed near the edge?"

I nodded. "Didn't go past the moss stones."

That seemed to ease her just a little. She took the basket and turned toward the house, and I followed, my legs feeling heavier with each step.

The house was the same as always — old wood floors that creaked like they had something to say, lace curtains that never moved unless the wind pushed them, and the faint scent of dried herbs from her little apothecary cabinet. Familiar. Safe.

At least, it used to be.

I climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to disappear into my room. My fingers brushed the railing—and that's when I felt it.

A jolt.

Not a shock. Not pain.

Just… like something recognized me.

I jerked my hand back, staring at the wood. It was just a railing. It had always been just a railing.

But now, I wasn't sure.

My pulse picked up. I swallowed hard and pushed the door to my room open.

Everything was where I left it — messy bed, scattered sketchbooks, fairy lights that only half worked. But the air felt off. Like the room had been waiting for me.

I shut the door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly. Maybe I was just tired. Or maybe my brain was short-circuiting.

I turned to my desk, reaching for my lamp.

The second my fingers brushed the metal switch, the bulb above flared — not just on, but bright, too bright, white-hot — and then burst with a loud pop.

Glass scattered onto my notebook.

I froze.

My heart slammed in my chest like it wanted out.

No breeze. No storm. No explanation.

Just me and that terrible, pulsing silence that followed.

I backed away slowly, fingers trembling, eyes fixed on the broken bulb. The air around me had shifted — it felt thicker, like I was breathing through cotton.

My skin prickled.

Something in me was different.

And whatever it was, it wasn't quiet anymore.

The next morning, the sky was too bright. My skin itched under the sun like it was trying to warn me. I kept pulling my sleeves down, even though it was already too warm.

I barely remembered walking to school. The streets blurred. My thoughts felt like static. I kept thinking about the light. The railing. That feeling.

And the eyes in the dark.

"Earth to Lily!"

I blinked just as someone knocked into me from behind.

"Watch it, weirdo," Lira said, brushing past me like I was something sticky she'd stepped in. Her voice was coated in sweet venom. "Still going to the woods,her royal herbivore? Gonna start howling at the moon next?"

Her pack of pretty shadows giggled behind her.

I should've ignored her.

I tried.

But something snapped.

A heat bloomed in my chest, fast and bright. My ears rang. I opened my mouth—to say what, I don't even know.

But instead—

I screamed.

Not loud.

Not long.

But everything moved.

The wind slammed through the school courtyard like a fist. Lockers rattled. Books flew. Lira's perfectly combed hair whipped into her face as her mouth dropped open.

Everyone stopped.

Stared.

And me?

I just stood there, chest rising and falling, my voice gone, my hands clenched tight at my sides.

What just happened?

That wasn't normal. That wasn't me.

But it felt like something inside me had been waiting — begging — to break free.

And the wind kept blowing.

Just around me.

To be continued…