She didn't even finish the whole thing.
Suddenly, the fog shifted like something had exhaled through it. A low sound moved through the trees, not loud, not sudden...
Mira turned away first. I followed her.
Whatever she was about to tell me, his place didn't want to be said out loud.
The fog started clearing.
It felt like the forest leaned closer just to watch.
Silence wasn't empty here. It was packed with things holding their breath.
Branches clicked together like bones.
Far away, something cried.
Not like an animal.
Like a person forgetting how.
I stayed close to Mira thinking about all of it.
Every step, every breath.. felt precious.
"That thing," I whispered, "does it come back?"
Mira didn't look at me.
"They all do."
We walked deeper and then I saw them!
Not one. Not two but too many.
The things that walk here.
Some slipped out of the mist slowly, like unfinished memories.
Some stood half-sunken in mud, unmoving, like they were drowning into guilt and waited too long to forgive themselves.
One slipped past us - its mouth sewn with black wire.
Its eyes were wide, not empty.
Overflowing and begging with every emotion it could convey.
Another rocked back and forth whispering a name only it remembered.
One more clawed at its own chest like truth might be buried under bones.
My stomach twisted.
"This place is sick," I whispered.
Mira stopped and slowly turned to me.
"No." Her voice trembled but not from fear. "It's honest."
Cold ran through my spine.
The stitched mouth creature suddenly froze.
It looked at us.
It didn't seem hostile or empty.
It was just starving... not for flesh but to be released.
It raised its trembling hand. I instinctively flinched.
Mira caught my wrist. Her fingers... felt cold this time.
"Don't pull away." she whispered.
"They don't chase fear."
"Then what do they chase?" I asked.
Her jaw tightened like it was holding something back with her teeth.
"What they lost."
Suddenly, a sound crawled through the swamp. Low and hollow.
It felt familiar in the worst way.
The creatures reacted all at once.
Some collapsed.
Some screamed.
One tore at its stitches.
One clawed at its eyes.
Another tried to rip its own legs free from the ground.
My throat burned.
"Mira... make it stop."
She shut her eyes hard as if something inside her was trying to escape through them.
"This is what becomes of people who shallow themselves," she whispered.
"They don't disappear."
"They distort."
The stitched mouth creature stepped closer.
Not threatening but begging.
When its fingers touched the air between us- I felt something.
Like something inside me being mistaken for someone else.
Mira gasped sharply. Like she'd been stabbed. She turned away.
That was the moment when I was truly afraid.
Not of the forest. Of her.
"What am I supposed to do?" I asked.
Then, she looked back at the creature but I noticed her eyes were drowning.
She didn't feel like a teacher, a guide but just a girl standing in ache.
"He used to look at me like that." She whispered.