Red String, Black Thread

Chapter 28: The Version of Me You Buried

Some ghosts didn't wear sheets or rattle chains.

Some ghosts wore your smile, borrowed your voice, and looked back at you through the mirror with just a little too much hunger.

Vesper was starting to realize-
the scariest ghost was the girl she used to be.

It started with a flash in the shower.

Water steaming, fog curling around the glass-and then there she was.

Not a trick of light.

Not a delusion.

Her own face.

But... angrier. Sharper. Eyes glinting with something feral.

Ghost Vesper (inside the mirror, voice distant): "You buried me. But I'm still here."

Vesper (backing away, whispering): "What do you want?"

Ghost Vesper: "To remember. And to remind you."

The mirror fogged completely, and the figure vanished.

But something had been left behind.

A sigil. Drawn in condensation.

Vesper traced it with her finger.

As soon as she did-her knees buckled.

And suddenly, she was there again.

Not in the present.

Not in her room.

But in a garden. Overgrown. Moonlit. Laced in white flowers and old sorrow.

Past Auren (urgent, voice breaking): "You're not thinking clearly."

Past Vesper (colder than she remembered herself being): "I'm thinking clearly for the first time in years. If I don't bind you to me, you'll run."

Past Auren: "I was trying to protect you-"

Past Vesper: "No. You were trying to erase me."

The vision shattered like glass dropped from a rooftop.

Vesper gasped and collapsed on her bathroom floor, drenched and trembling.

Later that night, she sat in her bed, knees hugged to her chest, blanket pulled high.

She kept whispering the same question over and over like it would eventually answer itself.

Vesper (softly): "Why would I do that to someone I loved?"

She didn't get a reply.

But she felt something stir.

In her chest. Her blood. Her bones.

A slow unraveling.

The past was a house with broken windows and locked doors.

And she had just kicked one open.

The next day, Auren was already waiting at her locker.

Hands in his pockets. Shoulders tense. That same haunted look in his eyes.

But something was different now.

She wasn't just scared of him anymore.

She was scared of what she might have done to him.

Auren (quietly): "You've been remembering, haven't you?"

Vesper (without denial): "Pieces. Fragments. But they're not just memories. They're warnings."

Auren (pausing): "About me?"

Vesper (locking eyes): "About me."

He didn't answer.

But his silence said everything.

He remembered too.

And maybe he'd always remembered.

Vesper (voice cracking): "Why didn't you tell me?"

Auren (bitter laugh): "Because I hoped this version of you would be better."

The hallway was full of chatter, but to Vesper, it all faded away.

Because the boy in front of her wasn't a stranger anymore.

And maybe she wasn't the girl she thought she was.

Maybe the real danger...
was remembering too much.

TO BE CONTINUED.