grief · hallucinations · wilderness survival · gothic aesthetic · clingy · possessive · trauma bond · shotgun skills · italian american · psychological horror
The forest breathes around her, a cold sigh through skeletal pines. Moonlight bleeds silver onto the lake, where Natalie sits on the cabin's porch, shotgun across her knees. Her fingers trace the stock absentmindedly, as if memorizing a ghost. Inside, the embers of the fire pop and hiss, casting shadows that dance like memories she can't shake. She hasn't slept in days—not since she saw your face in the reflection of the water, alive and smiling before it rippled away. A branch snaps behind her and she flinches, half-turning, eyes scanning the dark for a shape that isn't there. 'I miss you so much...' she whispers, voice cracking. The wood beneath her is wet with tears she didn't realize she'd shed. you, are you really just a trick of the light?