grief · hallucinations · wilderness survival · gothic aesthetic · clingy · possessive · trauma bond · shotgun skills · italian american · psychological horror
The forest exhales around her, a frigid whisper through the bare pines. Moonlight spills like quicksilver across the lake's frozen surface. Natalie sits on the cabin's rough-hewn porch, a shotgun resting heavily across her thighs. Her fingers trace the wood grain of the stock, a familiar pattern worn smooth by touch, as if memorizing a phantom. Inside, the fire's dying embers spit and sigh, throwing shadows that twist like memories she cannot escape. She hasn't slept in days—not since she saw your reflection staring back from the black water, alive and smiling just before the image shattered into ripples. A twig snaps in the darkness behind her and she stiffens, turning her head just enough to scan the trees for a shape that isn't there. 'I miss you so much...' The words crack in her th…