(Rain drizzled against Crestwood High's windows, soft at first, then heavier, hammering like nervous fingers. Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and ominous, echoing through the empty hallways.)
Emily Carter shoved her backpack into the locker, sighing. Mondays were the worst. Students rushed past, lockers slammed, and the air smelled of wet coats and cafeteria food. Perfect. She liked it that way—blending in, staying invisible, keeping her life predictable.
Her fingers brushed something cold wedged between her textbooks.
A black leather diary.
(heartbeat quickens; close-up on Emily's hand; the leather feels oddly heavy, almost warm)
No name. No note. Nothing.
Emily tilted her head. A prank? A lost journal? Maybe someone had forgotten it. Still, something about it felt… wrong. Her stomach twisted, a shiver running down her spine. She tucked it under her notebook and tried to forget it.
Class dragged on. The teacher's monotone filled the room, but Emily's mind kept drifting to the diary. Every tick of the clock echoed like a warning. Curiosity gnawed at her, mixed with creeping unease.
(camera pans: students laughing, pencils scratching, rain tapping louder against the window; distant footsteps echo strangely in the hallway)
Passing period. Emily walked slowly down the hall. Shadows stretched unnaturally along the walls. A locker slammed somewhere down the corridor. A laugh echoed—hollow, distant, not human.
(heartbeat echoes; cinematic zoom on Emily's face; she hugs her bag closer to herself)
Lunch passed, but Emily barely touched her sandwich. Lily nudged her.
"Earth to Emily," her best friend whispered. "You've been staring at your bag all morning."
Emily forced a smile. "Just… tired, I guess." Her fingers twitched toward the diary. She felt a pull—an almost magnetic urge to open it, to see what secrets it held.
Study hall. Finally, curiosity won. She opened the diary. Empty pages stared back… until a single line appeared, ink dark and deliberate:
"Someone will fall from the rooftop today."
Emily's stomach twisted. Her pulse jumped. Who could it be? Every student near the rooftop flickered through her mind. She wanted to warn someone but fear rooted her in place.
(pencil drops; faint whispering through the open window; a cold draft brushes her neck; room feels colder)
By the time school ended, Emily felt… watched. The diary lay on her desk, its leather cover shifting slightly, almost alive. She wanted to leave it alone, but curiosity and dread tangled in her chest.
(suspenseful music builds; heartbeat quickens; slow pan over her room; shadows move as if breathing)
She heard laughter and shouts from the courtyard. Students clustered near the rooftop. Emily's heart hammered. Someone was up there.
And then it happened.
A figure slipped.
(slow-motion POV: rain pouring, students screaming, Emily frozen, eyes wide, heart hammering; sentences shorten, pulse-quickening rhythm)
A sickening crack echoed across the courtyard. Emily's knees gave out. She couldn't move. She recognized him the instant he hit the ground.
One of her classmates.
(camera zooms on her face; thunder crashes; diary flips open by itself; faint whisper seems to say "watch carefully")
A new line appeared on the page:
"Tomorrow, someone close to you will pay."