You know, people always say I'm some kind of prodigy. Born smart, talented, perfect grades, good at everything-sports, dancing, you name it. I've heard it all. But here's the truth nobody tells you: being good at stuff doesn't fix the one thing that really matters-feeling like you belong.
Take today, for example. I spent most of it working at the café downtown-the same one where the espresso machine screeches like it's about to die and the tips are barely enough to buy a sandwich. The regulars barely notice me half the time. Like Mr. Jacobs, the old guy who always orders a black coffee and a muffin, and tries to chat about his garden but usually just ends up complaining about the weather.
"Rain again, Emelia. You ever think the sky's just crying because it's lonely?" he joked this morning.
I forced a smile. "Maybe it's just prepping for a flood, Mr. Jacobs."
He laughed, shaking his head. That was the kind of day it was.
And then there was Claire, this chatty woman who insisted I try her 'secret' muffin recipe and wouldn't take no for an answer. I gave her the same fake smile I wear when my feet ache and my mind is miles away. It's a skill, honestly-smiling through the noise when all you want is quiet.
By the time my shift ended, I was drained. The sun was dipping low, casting this soft orange glow over everything, but I didn't have the energy to enjoy it. My phone buzzed-a notification from that dating app I barely remember signing up for. A new match. I stared at it like it was some kind of cosmic joke.
I didn't even bother going home to change or fix my hair. I wasn't the kind to fuss about what to wear or how I looked. I just dusted my work clothes tossed the apron into the café. Looks like this would just be another meh evening.
The restaurant was this little place with flickering fairy lights and a smell of garlic and basil that almost made me forget the dull ache in my chest. My date was waiting-tall, with dark hair that fell just right over his forehead, eyes kind but trying too hard, like he'd rehearsed this whole thing.
"So," he started, nervously tapping his glass, "you're into science, right? What's your favorite part?"
I shrugged, trying not to sound like I was over it. "I like puzzles. Figuring things out. But it's not exactly thrilling dinner conversation."
He chuckled. "Maybe I'm the puzzle then."
I smiled, really smiled this time, because sometimes you just want to be polite-even if your heart's not in it.
We talked a little more-his job, my college days, the usual. But my mind kept drifting. I caught myself watching the way his fingers brushed his glass, how the candlelight flickered on his cheek. Nothing sparked, no butterflies, no fireworks. Just... empty air.
When the check came, I thanked him and stepped out into the night. The city buzzed around me, but I felt like I was shrinking into a shadow.
Before I knew it, I'd wandered into the woods. Not the cozy kind where people have picnics, but the dark, tangled kind where the trees crowd so close it's like they're watching.
"Nothing to be afraid of. It's just a shortcut home" I told myself. But my heart didn't believe me.
Then I heard it-the snap of a twig, soft but sharp. My skin prickled. I stopped walking, heart hammering. The rustling got louder, closer. Three shadows dropped from the trees like ghosts, landing silently but purposefully around me.
One stepped forward, smirking. "Well, well, what do we have here? Lost little girl all alone?"
I swallowed hard, trying to sound braver than I felt. "I'm not lost."
Another laughed, a rough, ugly sound. I felt his hard breath hit the tip of my neck sending shivers down my spine. "You don't belong here, sweetheart. This is our turf and do you know what we do to pretty ladies who walks into our turf."
The third grabbed my arm, tugging my sleeve down, his breath smelling of stale beer. "Come on, don't be shy. Let's have some fun. I promise you'd touch heavens and back ."
I tried to pull away, voice shaking, "Please, just leave me alone."
The first one leaned in, eyes glinting. "Or what? You gonna scream for help? No one's coming."
Just as panic threatened to swallow me whole, the air shifted. The men froze, like someone hit pause.
Behind me, a shadow loomed, heavy and vast.
A low growl rumbled from the darkness, deep and warning.
The man holding me stumbled back, eyes wide.
"Did you hear that?" the second whispered, stepping back.
I spun around slowly, but there was nothing-only the cold night and heavy silence.
Then the men scattered, melting into the forest like smoke.
My chest heaved. I was shaking-not just from fear, but because I
knew I hadn't just imagined the grow.
"What the hell"