The bus ride felt longer than Isabella remembered.She sat by the window, watching the city slowly dissolve into stretches of green fields and quiet roads. The noise faded first—the constant hum of engines, voices, movement—until all that remained was the soft rumble of the bus and the occasional rustle of wind through half-open windows.
She rested her head against the glass."I needed this," she murmured to herself.
Peace.
That's what she told herself this trip would be about.But as the bus turned onto the final road leading into her province, something in her chest tightened.
The place looked the same.The same trees lined the road. The same small houses stood scattered along the hills.
The same distant mountains stretched across the horizon.And yet—It didn't feel the same.When the bus stopped, Isabella stepped down slowly, adjusting her bag over her shoulder.The air hit her first.Cooler than she expected.Heavier, somehow.
She inhaled deeply, but instead of relief, a strange unease settled in her chest."Back already?" a voice called out.
She turned.An older woman stood near a small store, smiling—but not quite.
"Auntie Lina," Isabella said, forcing a small smile.
"It's been a while.""It has," the woman replied, her eyes scanning Isabella's face as if searching for something.
"You look… different."
"City life," Isabella said lightly.
"You know how it is."The woman nodded slowly.
"Yes," she said.
"It changes people."
"There was something in her tone that made Isabella pause.
"Is everything okay here?" Isabella asked.
Auntie Lina's smile faltered for just a second.Then it returned.
"Of course," she said quickly.
"Same as always."But her eyes shifted away.
The walk to her house felt longer than usual.Every step seemed to echo louder than it should. The trees swayed gently, but the sound felt distant—muted.Like something was dampening the world.Isabella frowned.
"Why does it feel so quiet?" she whispered. Her house stood at the end of the path, just as she remembered.
Old.
Familiar.
Waiting.
She pushed the door open.It creaked softly."Hello?" she called.No answer. Of course not She hadn't expected one.Still—The silence inside felt… different from before.
That night, Isabella lay in bed staring at the ceiling.The house creaked occasionally, like all old houses do.But each sound felt deliberate.Measured.Like footsteps.
She turned to her side."Stop overthinking," she muttered. "You just got here."She closed her eyes.She turned to her side.
Then—A whisper."…Isabella…"Her eyes snapped open.
Her heart began to race."…hello?" she whispered back.
No answer.
Only silence.
But the feeling didn't leave.The feeling that something—Was awake.