The sun had risen just high enough to spill golden light across the cobbled streets, painting Zuberi's tired bricks with a false warmth. Kye stood among a scattered crowd of students at the base of the St. Selene Academy gates, his backpack weighed down by gear, snacks, and a collection of paperbacks he'd never finish. There was a faint, involuntary lift to his lips as he exchanged brief nods with familiar faces. Today wasn't a normal school day—it was the long-anticipated hiking trip.
Somewhere in the sea of murmured conversations, he spotted Lukas and Jonas, his oldest and closest friends. Lukas—tall, lean, always dressed a notch better than necessary—had a kind of effortless charm that made people trust him, even when they shouldn't. Jonas, on the other hand, was bulkier and quieter, with dark, observant eyes that tracked everything like a hawk pretending to be a pigeon.
"Yo, Kye!" Lukas called out, breaking from a group of girls with an easy wave. "You bring that disaster of a tent you bragged about last week?"
Kye smirked faintly. "It's the finest disaster money can't buy."
Lukas laughed and Jonas gave him a playful punch on the arm. "We better not be sleeping next to yours," Jonas muttered, pretending to shiver. Kye's chuckle escaped before he could stop it. For the moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the ease of it all.
As the teachers began herding them toward the buses, a few rules were shouted over megaphones. Standard stuff—no leaving the designated zones, no food in tents, and buddy systems. Kye registered them all, even though he wasn't planning on following half. He had no desire to get in trouble; but something about being watched—by teachers, friends, anyone—always left him twitchy.
Still, even with his internal guard, there was a quiet flutter in his chest, something close to excitement. Not joy exactly, but maybe a flicker of anticipation. The trip was a break from routine, a distraction from the thoughts that lingered too long at night. He needed that.
---
The bus was an ancient beast, wheezing diesel into the air as students clambered aboard. The seats were scratched, torn in some places, and smelled faintly of warm plastic. Kye slumped beside the window, bag on his lap. Lukas and Jonas sat behind him, arguing about which trail they'd get to hike.
He let the voices blur, the vibrations of the road soft under his legs as the bus pulled away from the city. Zuberi shrank behind them, swallowed by hills and a thick border of pine that lined the outskirts. Soon, they were miles out—on their way to the highland camp known as Hollowridge.
Kye stared at his own faint reflection in the glass. The shape of his jaw, the quiet behind his eyes. He remembered things in flashes—his aunt smiling over burnt toast that morning. The way her voice caught when she said goodbye, a little tighter than usual.
She didn't know. Not the full extent.
No one did, really. Not the truth about his parents—how much of their cruelty had been buried under paperwork, how many excuses people had made for the bruises, for the dead weight in his stare. They only knew parts of it. His aunt guessed more than she said aloud.
He blinked.
In the seat across from him, Clara was sketching something with a pencil. Her brow furrowed in concentration, the drawing a mass of shadows and trees. She glanced up once, and for a second, her eyes lingered. Then she looked away.
Jonas was laughing at something. Lukas said something back—Kye couldn't quite follow. His eyelids drooped heavier.
He adjusted his hoodie, tugging it over his eyes as the warmth of the sun touched his knees.
And then, sleep came.
---
The world shifted.
Not in a grand, cinematic way. No thunderclap, no falling into darkness.
Just a smooth transition. Like a page turned mid-thought.
Kye opened his eyes and was standing outside a camp cabin. His backpack was still on. He was rested, dry, and alert—like he'd slept for hours in the comfort of his own bed. The air around him was silent save for the hush of distant trees. Pale morning light filtered through heavy clouds.
He looked around.
The camp looked... right. Familiar. The signs, the color-coded cabins, even the faint squeak of the admin office's crooked weather vane. He'd seen pictures before, during the orientation. But something— didn't quite sit right.
No birds. No crunching gravel under moving feet. No sounds of people unpacking or shouting.
Then, just as he stepped forward, a sharp whistle cut through the air.
"Alright! All students to the main circle! Let's get this started before the rain decides to join us!"
That was Mr. Daum, the head P.E. teacher. The tone was the same as ever—strict, clipped—but somehow off. Too rehearsed. Like someone imitating how a human teacher might sound.
Kye shook off the feeling.
Jonas slapped his back as he walked past, grinning. "You looked dead on the ride. Thought we'd have to carry you out."
"Still might," Lukas added, popping into view beside him.
They all looked fine. Sounded fine. But that whisper in Kye's head wouldn't go away. Something here wasn't...
He walked toward the main circle, boots crunching softly. Around him, classmates laughed, some kicking up pinecones, others unpacking food. The teachers stood in their bright jackets like moving flags.
Still no birds.
He looked up.
The clouds above didn't move.
---
As the day moved on, little things stacked up. Clara's sketchbook was blank when she opened it again. Mr. Daum called one student the wrong name—twice. The food in the cooler was exactly enough for each student, down to the individual packets. Lukas swore he'd seen the same girl walk by them three times, looped like a record.
"Maybe we're just tired," Jonas offered at one point, voice low. "You know how the mind gets in new places."
Kye nodded slowly, but he was already watching the way the admin door opened and shut with no one near it.
---
That night, lying in his sleeping bag, Kye stared up at the wooden ceiling of the cabin. He should've felt safe.
Instead, something ticked at the back of his mind.
The teachers. The food. The light that never really dimmed, even as night fell.
His body felt heavier than usual.
Outside, he heard Clara laugh.
It echoed.
Once.
Then twice.
The second echo didn't match the first.
He didn't sleep.
Not really.
But when he blinked, the sun was back.
---