September 24th,
The silence was louder than anything I'd ever heard.
Mayumi was gone.
Just like that.
No goodbye. No warning. No trace.
And somehow, the wind felt like it was watching us. Watching… and waiting.
***
It started with a missed call.
Then two.
Then ten.
By evening, Mayumi still hadn't shown up for class — or fellowship.
"She's probably at home," Tony offered, but he didn't sound convinced.
I called again. Straight to voicemail.
Anita checked her room. Empty.
By 7:30 p.m., I knew something was wrong.
"She wouldn't just disappear," I said, pacing. "Not without telling me. Not Mayumi."
The next morning didn't help.
The bed was untouched. Her books still open on the desk. Slippers by the door.
But no Mayumi.
I whispered a prayer, my spirit heavy. Lord, cover her. Keep her. Speak to us.
That was when Anita spoke up.
"I've been feeling eyes," she said flatly.
I turned to her. "What?"
"Since the prayer chain," she continued, "I keep feeling like… I'm being followed. Not physically. Spiritually. I'll turn, and no one is there, but the air feels wrong."
I sat beside her. "Have you told Tony?"
She shook her head. "He's too busy worrying about you and Mayumi. And Darrey."
Darrey. That name hadn't come up in two days.
He hadn't shown up to class either.
But then… we saw him. Briefly.
As Tony and I left the cafeteria, he appeared at the far corner of the courtyard — head down, hood up. We froze.
He looked up, locked eyes with us — then turned and walked away quickly.
"Did he just… avoid us?" I asked.
Tony nodded slowly. "He's afraid. Or guilty."
"Or worse," I added.
Later that night, I sat with Anita as she dozed off on her bed.
But something wasn't right.
She flinched in her sleep, murmuring.
Then suddenly bolted upright with a gasp.
"I saw her," she whispered, wide-eyed.
"Who?"
"Mayumi. In the dream. She was in a room. Crying. But she wasn't alone. Something was in the shadows… watching her."
She began to cry. "It saw me too, Sandra. Whatever it is — it saw me."
***
It's no longer a matter of good and evil.
It's personal.
It's hunting us.
But fear is not our portion.
We are not prey.
We carry fire. And fire answers when provoked.