The morning feels heavy with unsaid words as I walk to school alone. No Claire at our usual corner, no shared whispers about homework or village gossip. Just empty space where my best friend should be.

I clutch my books tighter against my chest, the leather bindings cool against my arms despite the warm morning. The schoolyard ahead fills with familiar voices, but they fade to whispers as I approach. Even Mira, usually so kind, turns away quickly.

Claire stands with a group near the oak tree, grandmother's journal visible in her bag. When our eyes meet, she quickly looks down, shifting to put the trunk between us. The message couldn't be clearer if she'd shouted it.

"Talking to yourself again, freak?" Finn's voice cuts through the morning quiet. He stands with Hans and Greta Weber, their faces twisted with matching sneers. "Or are the whispers keeping you company now?"

I try to walk past them, keeping my head down, but Finn steps into my path. Behind him, I spot Mrs. Hemlock through the classroom window, but she's busy with her books, unaware.

"We saw you in the library yesterday," Hans says, his voice carrying that edge that means trouble. "Reading about the Upside Down. About monsters."

"Maybe she's turning into one," Greta adds with a sharp laugh. "That's what happened to her grandmother, right?"

My fingers dig into my books until they hurt. "Leave me alone."

"Or what?" Finn moves closer. "You'll push me again? Use your weird powers?"

"I said leave me alone!" The words come out stronger than I meant, echoing across the suddenly quiet schoolyard. Even the birds seem to fall silent.

That's when it happens. A scratching sound from the bushes behind Finn makes us all freeze. Something small and dark darts between the branches - not a normal forest creature, but something else. Something with too many legs and eyes that catch the morning light wrong.

Finn spins around, stumbling backward. "What was that?"

The creature emerges fully - about the size of Mrs. Hedda's cat but somehow wrong, its movements jerky and unnatural. Crystalline whiskers catch the sunlight, sending rainbow patterns across the grass.

"One of your friends, freak?" Hans's voice shakes slightly. "Did you call it here?"

But I'm just as frightened as they are. This isn't like the dragon-lizard Claire and I chased - this is something else. Something that shouldn't be here in the bright morning light.

The creature turns its too-many eyes toward us, and Greta lets out a sharp cry, grabbing Finn's arm. Its whiskers twitch, sensing something we can't, and then it simply... vanishes. Not running away or hiding - just there one moment and gone the next, leaving only disturbed leaves and an unnatural silence.

"What did you do?" Finn rounds on me, fear making his voice crack. "What kind of monster are you?"

"I didn't-" I start, but he's already shoving past me, Hans and Greta close behind. They race toward the school building, leaving me alone in the suddenly empty yard.

No, not alone. Claire still stands by the oak tree, her face pale. For a moment, our eyes meet, and I see something there - not fear exactly, but understanding. She knows what we just saw wasn't natural. Wasn't safe.

After school, I wait by the gate, watching Claire gather her things. She hesitates when she sees me, clutching grandmother's journal protectively.

"Give it back," I say, my voice harder than I meant it to be.

Claire takes a step back. "No."

"It's not yours." I move forward, reaching for the journal, but she pulls away.

"I'm trying to protect you!" Her voice shakes. "These things you're reading about, the creatures, the whispers - they're dangerous. Look what happened this morning!"

"That's exactly why I need it!" I grab for the journal again, but Claire dodges behind the gate post. "Everything that's happening - the creature, the whispers - grandmother knew about all of it. The answers are in there!"

"The answers got her killed!" Claire's voice rises sharply. "And now you're going the same way, looking for things you shouldn't, seeing things that-"

"Give. Me. The. Journal." Each word comes out like ice, and Claire's eyes widen at my tone.

"Or what?" She backs away further. "You'll use your powers on me too? Like you did with Finn?"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The accusation hits like a slap. I lunge forward without thinking, but Claire turns and runs. Her feet pound against the cobblestones as she races down the street.

I chase after her, my shoes sliding on the smooth stones. "Claire, stop! You know I don't have any power!"

She's always been faster than me, but anger and desperation fuel my steps. We run past shocked villagers, around corners, through alleyways we used to explore together. Just ahead of me, grandmother's journal bounces against Claire's side with each step.

"Please!" I call out, my breath coming in gasps. "I just want to understand!"

Claire glances back, her face streaked with tears. "That's what she said too! Right before she disappeared!"

She cuts sharply down a narrow path between houses - one of our old shortcuts. I try to follow but my foot catches on an uneven stone. By the time I regain my balance, Claire has vanished around another corner.

I slump against the nearest wall, my chest heaving. Not just from the run, but from the realization that I've just tried to chase down my best friend. To force her to give me something she thinks might get me killed. But her accusation struck me very hard.

The walk home feels longer than usual. Each familiar house seems to watch me pass, windows like judging eyes.

On my way to fetch water from the well, I notice how Mrs. Weber pulls her youngest inside when she sees me coming. Old Henrik, who used to give me candy when I passed his workshop, now keeps his door firmly shut. Even the baker, who's known me since I was born, hands me today's bread without meeting my eyes.

I pause at the well, the rope rough against my palms. Two women I've known all my life are already there, but they fall silent when I approach. Their whispered conversation dies so abruptly it leaves an almost physical silence in its wake.

"Good evening," I say politely, but they just nod stiffly and hurry away, their water buckets sloshing as they walk too quickly.

"It's starting already," a quiet voice says behind me. I turn to find Ursa watching from her herb garden. Her normally kind face carries an expression I can't quite read. "The fear. The isolation. Just like with your grandmother."

"What do you mean?" I ask, but she's already turning away, her herbs rustling as she disappears between the rows of plants.

A group of children playing hopscotch nearby scatter when I walk past, abandoning their game mid-jump. I recognize Emma among them - just yesterday she shared honey cakes with us at lunch. Now she won't even look at me.

I push open our front door, already hearing Maya's footsteps upstairs. The house feels too quiet after everything that happened today.

"Did you see it?" Maya calls down, her face appearing over the stair railing. "The pretty thing with rainbow whiskers?"

I freeze halfway through removing my shoes. "What do you mean?"

"Outside our window just now. It was watching us." Maya points toward the window of our shared bedroom. "Like the one from our school."

I hurry to our room, the floorboards creaking under my feet. Our window looks out over Mom's herb garden, but now the neat rows of plants seem different somehow - disturbed, as if something passed through them recently.

"What exactly did you see?" I keep my voice calm despite the chill running through me. The storage room above us, where grandmother's diary was hidden, feels like a weight pressing down on my thoughts.

"It had lots of eyes," Maya says simply, hugging Mr. Whiskers closer as she sits on her bed. "And when it walked, the plants moved wrong."

I spread my schoolbooks across the desk by the window, pretending to study while actually watching the garden. The afternoon light makes everything look normal, but something feels off, it must be off.

"Girls?" Mom's voice carries up from the kitchen. "Everything alright up there?"

"Just studying!" I call back, but my fingers tremble as I open my basic magic textbook. The simple diagrams and practice exercises seem almost laughable now - how can lessons about light spheres and warming charms help me understand what's happening?

Later, during dinner, I notice Mom and Dad exchanging looks when they think I'm not watching. Dad's fork pauses halfway to his mouth when Maya mentions the "rainbow whiskers," and Mom's hand shakes slightly as she serves more potatoes.

"Did you..." Mom hesitates, her eyes meeting mine. "Did you see it too, Julie?"

I grip my fork tighter, remembering those unnatural crystalline whiskers, those too-many eyes. "Yes," I whisper. "This morning at school, and then..." I swallow hard. "Just now, in the garden."

"When exactly this morning?" Dad asks, setting down his utensils. "Were you alone?"

I stare at my plate, pushing a potato around with my fork. "Before classes started. Finn and some others were there." The words start tumbling out before I can stop them. "They were teasing me again, and then this... thing just appeared in the bushes. Everyone saw it. Finn, Hans, Greta..." My voice catches. "Claire too."

"Claire?" Mom's voice softens with concern. "Is that why she wasn't here after school today?"

Something inside me breaks at the mention of her name. "She won't talk to me anymore. None of them will." The tears I've been holding back all day threaten to spill over. "Claire took grandmother's- I mean, she thinks I'm dangerous now. Everyone does. At the well today, even Mrs. Weber pulled her children inside when she saw me coming."

"Oh, sweetheart." Mom moves around the table to wrap her arms around me.

"I didn't call it here," I say into her shoulder, my voice thick. "I didn't do anything. But now Claire's gone, and everyone's afraid, and I don't know how to fix it."

Dad reaches across the table to take my hand. "Perhaps we should put stronger wards around the house," he says, his voice gentle but firm. "Just as a precaution."

"The old ones have worked fine until now," Mom responds, but her voice carries an edge I've never heard before. She squeezes me tighter. "We'll figure this out, Julie. Together. You're not alone in this."

Maya, who's been unusually quiet, suddenly speaks up. "Julie's not scary," she announces with all the certainty of a six-year-old. "She's just different."

But as I watch the sun sink toward the forest through our window, painting the trees in colors that seem a little too bright, a little too wrong, I know the truth:

Some secrets find you whether you're ready for them or not. And when they do, you better understand them before they destroy everything you love.