After staying still for a few seconds, Natalya slowly reached for her phone again, her fingers trembling as she checked the screen.

The screen lit up, casting a faint glow on her face. No new notifications. No messages. Just the wallpaper staring back at her, as if nothing had happened.

Her pulse pounded in her ears. Had she imagined it?

The message. The one she swore she had seen...was gone.

She pressed the power button, turning the screen off, then on again. Still nothing.

She did it again. And again. Each time, hoping, praying, that the message would reappear. But the screen remained unchanged.

A cold shiver crept down her spine.

Had she really seen the message, or was her mind playing tricks on her?

Natalya placed the phone down on the cushion and rose to her feet, her movements slow, uncertain. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, but an uneasy feeling coiled in her chest. The walls of the cabin suddenly felt too close, the air too thick.

She needed to get out.

Her gaze flickered around the room, scanning for something. 

Anything that could serve as a weapon. The feeling of vulnerability gnawed at her, an instinctual need for protection creeping in.

Then, in the corner near the door, she spotted it.

An umbrella basket sat tucked against the wall, its woven frame barely noticeable. But what caught her attention wasn't an umbrella—it was a crowbar.

Her breath hitched.

Why was it there?

She hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward and wrapping her fingers around the cold metal. It was heavier than she expected, solid and reassuring in her grip. The weight steadied her nerves, if only slightly.

With the crowbar clutched tightly in her hands, she moved toward the door.

Each step was deliberate, her senses sharpening as she reached for the handle. Slowly, she twisted the knob and pulled the door open, the crisp night air rushing in to greet her.

The silence outside was deafening.

The trees stood still, their dark silhouettes looming against the faint moonlight. The cabin's porch creaked beneath her weight as she took a cautious step forward, her grip on the crowbar tightening.

Something was wrong. Or was it the dim porch light?

She could feel it.

She took another step, her breath shallow, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the porch.

And then—

A rustling noise.

Somewhere in the distance.

Natalya froze.

Slowly, she turned her head toward the sound, gripping the crowbar tighter before raising it slightly.

Silence.

Only the faint hum of crickets filled the night, their steady rhythm the only sign of life. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she forced herself to take a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic beat of her heart.

Then—

The rustling again.

This time, closer.

Natalya's breath hitched. Her knuckles whitened around the crowbar.

Something was out there.

Watching.

Waiting.

The rustling came again, this time from the bushes just a few feet away.

She braced herself.

Then, from the undergrowth, a small shape darted into the open.

Natalya's breath hitched as her heart nearly leaped out of her chest only to realize what it was.

A rabbit.

Just a wild rabbit.

The tiny creature paused in the middle of the clearing, its ears twitching as it regarded her with wary, glassy eyes. It stood there for a moment, its nose twitching rapidly before hopping away into the darkness.

Natalya let out a slow, shaky breath, lowering the crowbar. She could feel her pulse pounding in her throat, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins.

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to steady herself. It was just a rabbit. But the way her body had reacted—the fear, the tension—proved something deeper.

She wasn't just scared of the unknown.

She was scared because a part of her knew something wasn't right.

Swallowing hard, she glanced around one more time, scanning the trees, the bushes, the path leading away from the cabin. Everything was still.

Nothing moved.

Natalya stepped back into the cabin, the door creaking as she shut it behind her. She locked it quickly, the reassuring click of the bolt sliding into place a small comfort. She stood there for a moment, her back against the door, her chest rising and falling with every deep breath she tried to take.

Her hands still shook slightly as she moved towards the couch. She set the crowbar down and grabbed her phone, the screen lighting up in her hands.

She checked the screen once more.

Nothing. No messages. No notifications. Just the empty, lifeless screen staring back at her.

She ran her hand over her face in frustration and that's when it hit her. She hadn't eaten anything since leaving the hospital, and worse, she hadn't taken her medicines.

Maybe that's why she was feeling like this.

Disoriented, on edge, and so consumed by everything happening around her.

Her stomach rumbled, but Natalya knew that the cabin was empty. Earlier she had checked the refrigerator and the cabinets but there was no source of food in the cabin.

With a frustrated sigh, she walked to the kitchen, filled a glass of water from the sink, and took it back to the living room.

She sat down and took a sip of the water and the coolness of the water helped settle her mind slightly, but the unease still lingered.

She picked up the small pill bag from the table. The bottles rattled lightly as she opened them, the label staring back at her—"Take as prescribed." With a deep breath, she shook out the pills and swallowed them with the water, hoping it would bring her some clarity.

Her fingers lingered on the last pill bottle for a moment. 

She knew this was the right thing to do. She had to know who she was and most importantly what happened. But a part of her still felt off. Like something wasn't right, something was waiting just out of sight.

After a few minutes she could feel the medicine starting to kick as a slight drowsiness settles over. 

Her eye lids felt heavy.

She placed the glass and the pill bottle on the table and laid back on the couch.

The cushions were comforting, and before long, the weariness from the day began to pull her into a deep slumber.

Word Count- 1005