The first rays of dawn creep through my window. I haven't slept - not really. Every time I closed my eyes, the whispers came back. That voice. The shadows. Elder Sven kneeling in the mist.

"Julie?" Mom's voice drifts up from the hallway. "Time to wake up, sweetheart."

I burrow deeper under the quilts, hearing her footsteps move away toward my dresser. The door creaks as she goes to fetch clean clothes.

"Julie?" A small hand pats my face through the blankets. "Are you awake?"

"Go away, Maya," I mumble, pulling the covers tighter.

My little sister Maya, barely six, stands beside my bed clutching her stuffed rabbit, Mr. Whiskers, I can see her through the blankets. Her curls are a mess from sleep, her nightgown rumpled. She's too young to understand what happened last night, but somehow she knows something's wrong.

Suddenly, the blanket on my left lifts slightly, and Maya's face appears in a sneaky peek. "Hey," she whispers, her dark curls falling forward. "You know your little sister's pretty smart, right? I can help fix problems too."

Before I can respond, Mom returns to find Maya standing on my bed, still holding up the blanket. "Maya! What are you-"

"Julie doesn't feel good, she needs my help!" Maya calls back immediately. "Mr. Whiskers says she needs to rest." now patting my face through the covers.

"You can help by going downstairs for breakfast," Mom says firmly. "Go on now."

Maya's footsteps pad away reluctantly, and Mom sits beside me on the bed. Her hand feels cool against my forehead. "No fever," she says softly, but there's worry in her voice. Julie who never misses school, Julie who loves learning - now hiding under her quilts like a much younger child. "Maybe... maybe you should stay home today. Just this once."

The patter of returning footsteps announces Maya's reappearance. "I'll stay too!" she declares from the doorway. "To protect her!"

"No, honey," Mom says, her voice gentle but firm. "You need to go to school. Julie just needs rest."

"But-"

"Maya." I force myself to sit up, to smile for her sake. "I'll be fine. Mr. Whiskers can stay with me today, okay?"

Her face lights up as she tucks her stuffed rabbit next to me. "Promise you'll take good care of him?"

"Promise."

After they leave, the house grows quiet. Too quiet. Every creak makes me jump, every shadow seems to move. I try to read, but the words blur together. I try to sleep, but the whispers wait behind my closed eyes.

Outside, through my window, I can hear familiar voices gathering. The usual morning meeting at the big oak tree.

"Where's the weirdo?" Finn's voice carries clearly. "Too scared to come out?"

"Shut up, Finn." Claire's voice, sharp with anger. "You weren't there. You couldn't understand."

"Oh, right, the mysterious mist." His laugh sounds forced. "Maybe she's just-"

"I said shut up! You have no idea what happened!"

Their voices fade as they move toward school, but Finn's words echo in my head. The weirdo. Too scared.

Dad comes up at lunch, his heavy boots announcing his presence. He doesn't try to make me talk about last night. Instead, he sits in the old rocking chair and opens my favorite book of legends - the same stories I tell Maya before bed. His voice is warm and steady as he reads, like nothing has changed. But when he thinks I'm dozing, I hear him sigh - a deep, worried sound I've never heard before.

The afternoon stretches endless. Maya returns from school full of stories about her day - a butterfly she saw, her friend's loose tooth, the picture she drew. Her chatter should be annoying, but instead it's comforting. Normal. Safe.

"Did Mr. Whiskers help?" she asks hopefully, collecting her rabbit.

"Yes," I lie, because that's what big sisters do. "He kept the bad dreams away."

After Maya's bedtime, I hear voices downstairs - my parents and Elder Sven, trying to whisper but failing.

"Something happened out there," Dad's saying, his voice tight with worry. "She's not herself. She hasn't left her room all day, she barely touches her food..."

"I understand your concern," Elder Sven rumbles. "But children... sometimes they see things in the dark that frighten them. Give her time."

"Time?" Mom's voice rises sharply. "You found her in that strange mist. What really happened out there, Sven?"

A heavy silence follows. Then Elder Sven speaks, his voice weighted with something that might be regret: "Some questions are better left unasked, Delia. For all our sakes."

"She's my daughter!" Mom's voice breaks. "I deserve to know-"

"Delia." Something in Elder Sven's tone makes even Mom fall silent. "There are forces in this world that... Sometimes ignorance truly is the safest path."

I pull my pillow over my head, but his words follow me into uneasy dreams: Sometimes ignorance truly is the safest path.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The next morning, Mom tries a new approach. "Sweetheart," she says, sitting on the edge of my bed. "The kitchen's all warm and sunny. Won't you come down for just a little breakfast?" When I don't respond, she brings up warm bread and honey. "Your favorite," she says, her smile too bright. "Maybe later we could walk in the garden? Just to the herb patch and back?"

The day after, she brings the smell of baking with her. "I'm making those cookies you love. The ones with the almond bits? Maya's helping - well, trying to help. She keeps eating the dough." She pauses, her hand gentle on my shoulder. "She misses your stories, Julie. We all miss you."

Each day, she finds new ways to reach me. Each day, her voice grows more worried, her smiles more forced. Maya brings different toys to "protect" me - her wooden horse, her favorite doll, the shiny rock she found last summer. Dad reads more legends, his voice steady even as the circles under his eyes grow darker.

On the fourth day, Claire comes.

Throughout the day, soft footsteps come and go outside my door. Mom brings up steaming bowls of soup that grow cold on my nightstand. Dad leaves fresh bread and honey - my favorite - but I can barely look at it. Even Maya sneaks up sometimes, leaving little treats she's saved from her own meals. I curl deeper under the blankets, pretending not to notice how the plates pile up, untouched. Each one feels like another weight on my chest, another reminder of how I'm worrying them all.

"Julie?" Her voice carries up the stairs, bright but careful. "I brought your homework. And some butter cookies..."

Maya's face appears in my doorway. "Claire brought cookies!" she announces, as if this might be the miracle cure I need.

Claire sits cross-legged on my bed, sorting through papers while Maya watches. "Mrs. Hedda asked about you in history class," she says. "We're learning about the old trading routes now. You would love it."

"Julie loves history," Maya informs Claire seriously. "She knows all the best stories."

When I don't respond, Claire sighs. "Julie, please. Talk to me? About anything?"

I roll toward the wall. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both." My voice cracks. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me." Her hand finds mine under the blankets. "I was there that night, remember? I saw... something."

Maya's head tilts curiously. "What did you see?"

"Nothing, sweetie," Claire says quickly. "Just... grown-up things."

But I just shake my head. Elder Sven made me promise. And even if he hadn't, how could I explain? The whispers that still echo in my dreams? The way that mist felt like it knew me? The voice that made Elder Sven kneel?

Days blur together. I drift between sleep and waking, watching shadows move across my ceiling. Maya brings more toys, tells more stories, tries so hard to make everything better the only way a six-year-old knows how. Mom's worried glances grow more concerned. Dad's sighs grow heavier.

I pull my hand away from Claire's and turn my face toward the wall. 'Please,' I whisper, 'I just need to be alone.' I hear her sigh - a small, hurt sound that makes my chest ache. After a moment, the bed shifts as she stands.

'I'll leave your homework here,' she says softly. 'And the cookies. Just... just remember I'm here when you're ready to talk.'

After she leaves, I listen to the house settle around me. Maya's off somewhere playing, her cheerful voice drifting up occasionally. Mom moves through her daily routines downstairs - the clink of dishes, the swish of her broom, the creak of the back door as she hangs laundry. Normal sounds. Safe sounds. But they feel far away now, like they're coming from another world entirely.

Finally, almost a week after that night, something changes. Maybe I'm tired of being afraid. Maybe I'm sick of the worry in their voices, or Maya's confused attempts to fix what she doesn't understand. Or maybe the whispers in my dreams have finally grown louder than my fear.

I get dressed. When I come downstairs, Mom drops her mixing bowl with a clatter. Maya, eating breakfast, squeals with delight.

"Julie! You're wearing clothes!"

Despite everything, I have to smile at that. "Yes, Maya. That's generally what people do."

"Are you... are you going to school?" Mom asks carefully, still holding the broken pieces of her bowl.

I nod, though my hands shake as I reach for an apple. "I thought... maybe it's time."

The walk to school feels endless. Every shadow makes me flinch, every rustle of leaves sends my heart racing. But I keep walking.

I'm almost to the schoolhouse when I hear Finn's voice: "Well, look who finally decided to stop hiding."

He's leaning against the fence, wearing that familiar mean smile. But there's something else in his eyes now - a hint of fear he's trying to hide.

"Heard you went crazy in the woods," he continues, but his voice wavers slightly. "Seeing things that weren't there. Just like your grandmother, right?"

My hands curl into fists. "You don't know anything about my grandmother."

"Everyone knows she was strange. Talked to herself, wandered in the woods at night. And now you're just like her." He steps closer, trying to loom over me. "Maybe you should go back to hiding in your room. Nobody wants a crazy person around-"

"Stop it!" Claire appears beside me, her face flushed with anger. "Just because you're too stupid to understand something doesn't make it crazy!"

Other kids gather, watching. Finn looks around, seeing his audience. His smile turns cruel.

"What, you're defending the village freak now? Better be careful, Claire. Crazy might be catching."

Something inside me breaks - not with fear this time, but with a cold, clear anger. This is my fight.

"I'm not crazy," I say, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands. "And I'm not afraid of you anymore, Finn."

But even as I say it, I know it's not quite true. I'm not afraid of Finn - but I am afraid of what's happening to me. Because even now, standing in the bright morning sunlight, I remember them: whispers at the edge of my mind, calling me back to the shadows.

I turn and walk away, Claire hurrying to keep up. Behind us, Finn calls out something else, but I don't listen. I can't go back to hiding in my room - but I can't pretend everything's normal either.

The walk home feels like moving through a nightmare. Every shadow seems to shift at the edge of my vision, every rustle of leaves carries whispers I'm afraid to understand. Claire walks beside me in silence, her presence a comfort I don't deserve after how I've treated her these past days.

When I finally reach home, I collapse onto the living room couch, my legs still trembling. The familiar house feels different now - every corner might hide whispers, every shadow could contain something watching.

"Julie?" Maya's voice reaches me from her room. She peeks through the doorway, Mr. Whiskers clutched to her chest as always. Her face holds a seriousness that shouldn't be possible for a six-year-old.

She approaches slowly, studying me with eyes that seem to see too much. "You don't have to be scared," she says with that strange certainty she sometimes has. "From now on, I'll protect you."

She places Mr. Whiskers next to me on the couch. "He'll protect you too. We're stronger than the whispers, you know?"

Her words, so simple yet so unsettling in their certainty, send chills down my spine. How does she know about the whispers? I've never mentioned them to her.

"Maya..." I begin, but she just smiles - that smile that lately seems to hold secrets too big for her.

"Everything will be fine," she says with absolute conviction. "I'm here now."

Something is changing in me, and sooner or later, I'll have to face whatever that means.

But not today. Today, I just have to make it through until sunset. One step at a time, one moment at a time, until the whispers fade back into shadows.

At least until night falls again.