After school, you walked home faster than usual. The streets were quiet, the kind of quiet that made you feel like someone was waiting just out of sight.
When you reached your front door, you noticed a small envelope on the welcome mat. Plain, no name, no handwriting. You picked it up. Inside was a single sentence:
“Stop looking, or you’ll regret it.”
Your stomach tightened. Who would do this? And why?
You wanted to throw it away, to act like it didn’t exist, but your curiosity wouldn’t let you. Something about the note demanded attention, even if you didn’t understand why.
Later that night, you tried to sleep, but every sound—the wind, the creaking floorboards, even the ticking clock—felt amplified. Someone was out there. Or maybe it was something else.
You didn’t know what the next day would bring. But you were certain of one thing: whatever this was, it was only just beginning.
ns216.73.216.89da2
and then Add to home screen.