Dylan Redwine walked into the home of his father, Mark, in Vallecito with a heavy heart. He hadn’t wanted to visit, but the court had ordered that the boy should spend time with his father after his parents divorced. Dylan missed his mother’s house where everything was familiar and cozy, but here, in this bleak house among the mountains, he felt like a stranger. Mark greeted him with a strained smile, trying to appear friendly, but there was tension between them.
– We can go fishing tomorrow,” Mark suggested, tucking his hands in his pockets.
– I’m not sure I want to,” Dylan answered, not looking up.
– Why are you doing this to me? – His father sighed heavily. – I’m trying to make you feel comfortable here.
– Maybe because I’m not comfortable here? – The boy replied sharply.
Mark frowned, but said nothing. Tension hung in the air like a thick fog.
Later, Dylan, sitting in his room, dared to touch on the forbidden topic.
– What are those pictures on your computer? – He asked, coming into the living room. His voice was loud, almost defiant.
Mark turned pale and his gaze became heavy.
– You shouldn’t have seen it,” he replied with restraint, but there was metal in his voice. – We don’t talk about it anymore.
Dylan turned away, feeling the tension building, but he didn’t know then that that night would be the turning point in his life.
Later that night, Dylan woke up to strange sounds. He thought someone had walked past his room, leaving behind a faint odor of smoke. He got out of bed to check, but the hallway was empty. Only the old chandelier swayed quietly, as if someone had touched it.
– Who’s there? – He whispered loudly, feeling a chill run down his skin.
Silence. But then there was a whisper in it.
– Go away… – It was barely audible. The boy turned around, but no one was there. Only shadows danced on the walls in the moonlight.
– It’s not funny, Dad,” he muttered, taking a step back toward his room. But the answer was dead silence.
