There we were, sitting in the car in the middle of the Ayahuasca forest, surrounded by creepy pine trees and eerie fog. Atem had turned the car and headlights off to reserve the battery. I didn't fuss. It wasn't like we were going anywhere soon.

My eyes constantly scanned the surrounding forest, looking up in the trees for swaying and bounded bodies. Anticipation rose with every howl of the wind and the snap of a twig. Causing each of us to twist and turn in our seats to meet any threats head on.

"We can't just sit here all night." Atem finally broke the silence.

"I agree, but we don't have a choice either," I pointed out.

Zeke slumped in the backseat beside me, resting and occasionally rubbing the rope burned parts of his neck. He had been quiet since the hanging, not attempting to talk or even defend himself when the notebook exposed his betrayal.

The wound on Felicity's head finally stopped bleeding, although she lost a lot of blood. She, too, seemed drained of energy and rarely moved in her seat. "Ima?" She grunted and groaned. "I'm sorry." She didn't move, but the way her words slurred told me she wasn't doing well. "I'm not an asshole, I swear. It's just... I was lonely and stupid and... No excuse. I'm sorry. I'm sure Zeke is sorry, too."

As she spoke, I looked over at Zeke. The bright moon highlighted the shame written on his face and in his miserable puppy dog eyes. He slowly nodded, agreeing. Even though they apologized, it didn't create a sense of ease. In fact, anger surged through me at the fact that they waited until the notebook outed them for either of them to come clean.

"So obviously it wasn't James you were going to see that night of the accident, huh?" I tried to hold in my anger and keep from yelling my words.

"No." Felicity confirmed. "No, it wasn't James."

"So, you guys been fucking around since then? Before then?" I shook my head, looking back and forth between the two. Zeke was silent because of his injury, but a part of me believed he was glad he couldn't speak, so that I couldn't force him to answer my questions. "How long were you hoping to keep this a secret? I bet you enjoyed stringing me along, pretending to have my best interest at heart, pretending to love me?"

Felicity didn't explain or say much other than another, "I'm sorry."

"Whatever." I shook my head and folded my arms over my chest, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I guess all that doesn't matter, anyway. Me and Felicity haven't really been that close. And our breakup was inevitable, right, Zeke? I could tell we didn't really want to be together. I just wish you would've called it off before you slept with our so-called friend."

Even though Felicity's cheeks glistened with tears, she refused to speak. It all reminded me of the betrayal I faced as a child. First from my parents, then from my beloved brother, and now from my friends. The urge to scream bubbled up, but like many of those unpleasant emotions, I bottled it up and ignored it.

"I just want to get out of here," Atem chimed in, filling the awkward silence. "It stinks like piss and my ass is hurting."

I sneered. "It's stinks like piss because of you."

"I know, alright, Ima." He huffed, dropping his head in embarrassment. "You don't have to be a bitch about it."

I rolled my eyes and took it on the chin. He was right. I was taking my anger out on him, and he didn't deserve it. He was the least of my worries and had often proven to be a great friend.

"At least you never screwed me over, Atem," I said, rolling my eyes at Zeke.

"Thank you." He finally looked up. "That's what makes me think I'm the good guy in this story. Maybe even the main character."

"Really?" I tilted my head, trying to understand his perspective.

"Well, I'm the only one they haven't attacked or hurt."

"True." I pressed my fingers to my chin. "But you seem more like the jokester who accidentally pisses on the sacred ancestral tree more than the May Queen type."

He lifted an impressed eyebrow. "Ah, Midsommar. So, you do know horror. I thought you weren't a fan."

"I keep up." I shrugged.

"Jokester, huh? Thanks, but that's not the only reason I think I might be the main character." He went on. "Yes, this all originated in your notebook and what happened to Clay is what essentially brought us out here, but you wanted me to come along because of my films. My films are more important than you might think. I have one of my cameras here, still working. See?" He lifted the camera and aimed it at me. "The other one should still be at the campsite recording. That's important, right?"

I nodded, appreciative that our conversation took my mind from the fear of frightening creatures and my heart from upsetting betrayal. "That makes sense, I guess. But where do we go from here?"

Silence surrounded us while we put our brains into thinking mode. It was the perfect time to bring up my theory. "Maybe we can try to get a step ahead of whatever's going on. Since we can't read from the notebook without it turning my brain into mush, and I can't write in it to change the text, maybe we can put our thinking caps on and figure out where the narrative is trying to take us so we can find a way out of this."

"That sounds good." Atem shifted in his seat to face me. "What do you think?"

"Well, I was talking to Zeke about our guilt. I think guilt has something to do with it. Or maybe the secrets we hold."

"Or both," Atem said.

"For instance, I feel guilty about not being there for Clay when he needed. Felicity's guilt is about the car accident she was involved in. Zeke's guilt must've been about his asshole cheating ways." I threw him an angry look, but immediately regretted it because of the amount of pain he seemed to be in. I couldn't bear to look at him too long without my heart sinking, so I turned back to Atem. "What's your secret? What do you feel guilty about?"

"You mentioned this before, and I told you then I don't have a secret." He frowned with disappointment. "I'm literally an open book. You guys know everything about me, my grandma, and my shitty grades in school because who likes school? Stupid Andre Adam's in my biology class that keeps picking on me about my shoes. Screw him. Uh, one time I stole a candy bar from the convenience store!" he said proudly.

"Uh." I slowly shook my head. "I don't think that's it. Anything else? Anything you actually feel sorry about?"

He shook his head. "That's why I think I'm the main character meant to witness what goes on, like a camera, but not be a part of it."

"I hope you're right." Although something about his theory felt off. "I think you're important, but maybe we're focusing on the wrong thing."

The wind picked up, howling in the distance, but it wasn't enough to clear away the fog that seemed to swell, drift, and move like an entity itself. The thick mist hovered around the car, cloaking us in its murkiness while refusing to enter through the shattered windows. Unwelcomed, it stalled, ready and waiting for us to make the first move.

Then an idea came to mind.

"Wait," I said, sitting forward. "I've got it! In every story, there's a turning point, right?"

"Okay." Atem nodded rapidly, encouraging me to keep speaking.

"At around the midpoint of a story, the plot shifts. The character stops being passive and starts getting active."

"Huh?" Felicity managed.

"We stop running and start fighting," I said.

"Okay, but how?" Atem looked back and forth between me and Felicity. "We have to know what we're fighting before we fight it. So maybe this isn't the turning point like you think."

"We need to find the answers," I said. "And sitting around in the car will not make that happen. How many stories have you read where the characters just sit around talking and somehow what they need drop in their lap? None." I turned to Zeke. "Yeah, I already know reading isn't your favorite. You'd rather watch the movie."

His only response was a shrug.

"We need to get out of this car and go after the answers," I went on. "Sitting around waiting for change isn't enough. We have to make the change."

"Okay," Atem nodded. "But are you ready for that?"

Good question. I wasn't ready, and maybe that was part of the problem.

"Well, I already told you. I'm not leaving," Felicity said, resting against the door. "I will die in this car if I have to."

Just as the words escaped her lips, a long branch from the nearby tree impaled her cracked window, missing her head by inches. The shattering glass startled us, and she let out a scream. A thick braided rope replaced the solid branch, slithering inside the open window like the tentacle of a Lovecraftian monster searching for something to latch onto.

The rope thrashed around the inside of the car, randomly smacking Felicity and Atem as it blindly reached and searched for nothing in particular.

"What's happening?" Atem yelled.

"I don't know," I said. "We need to get out of here." I pulled the lever to open the door and after ramming my body weight against it several times, it burst open. Just as the door cracked open, another hefty rope shot through my broken window, sending what remained of the pebble-like pieces of glass everywhere.

Zeke crossed his arms and hid behind them. Out of instinct, I crouched over his lap for shelter. The ropes met in the center and tangled together, pulling and jostling the car, causing us to bounce around the seats. Because of the movement, the car shifted until it was no longer stuck in the shallow ditch and inched back onto the dirt road.

Atem didn't waste any time, starting the engine and pressing the gas. The headlights came on, highlighting the foggy road only ten feet ahead of us, but Atem didn't care. He revved the engine, peeled out, and the tires kicked up dried dead leaves, dirt, and debris behind us.

Amongst the screaming and commotion inside the car, the dirt completely obscured the view at the rear, causing a cloud of dust to rise and linger in the air amid the fog. The car rocked violently as it tried to get free of the ropes and gain traction on the loose dirt.

The hefty ropes held us in place, tough and sentient-like. I gripped the taut one above me and tried to loosen its hold on the other. "Stop! Let go!" I screamed and tugged until the cords slithered from the vehicle, settling us on the ground with a jolt. Surprised, I looked ahead. "Go, go, go!"

The car sped down the road. We all held on as we skid and slid before Atem regained control of the car, getting us back in the center of the dirt path.

"Oh, my god," Atem breathed. "We did it!"

Joy bubbled in my gut when I realized we were free and had escaped the ropes. I laughed hysterically. "Yes, go and keep going. Don't stop for anything."

We drove in the darkness for several minutes. I half expected the mysterious truck and its high beams to approach and ram us off the road again. Especially as Zeke kept looking over his shoulder out of the back window. Atem too watched behind us. He frequently glanced in the rearview, not noticing the bound and twitching figure standing in the middle of the road ahead of us.

"Atem!" I screamed and pointed to get his attention. He immediately hit the brakes, and the car skidded to a stop.

The bound figure stood in the road, wrapped tightly in an enclosed elastic bag that didn't allow for much air flow as the outline of his muscular male frame, hollow eyes, and wide mouth were visible through the fabric. The lengthy rope that kept him bound anchored his arms down at his sides as he squirmed.

Something attached a familiar tattered piece of paper to his broad chest. A line of blood dripped from the nail that held the soiled sheet in place in the center of his breastbone. The cry that came from beneath the fabric made my heart ache and my head hurt at the same time.

But before I could react to my body and the emotions it produced, another thick rope whipped through the passenger side window and coiled around Felicity's neck. Her mouth opened as she tried to scream and claw at the cord, but it was no use.

Atem pulled the braided rope to remove it from her neck, but it only slithered around her body like an unusually long and fibrous snake, fastening around her just like the bound man in the road. Zeke and I threw ourselves over the seats to help loosen the rope, but it lifted her body out the window before we could get a grip.

My heart raced as she kicked and screamed while the rope dragged her along the forest floor, through the dense, foggy covered trees, and out of our sight. Even her scuffling faded to nothingness as she faded from our vision.

"Oh, no!" I stared out the window, frozen, shocked. "What do we do?"

Atem didn't answer, he only held the steering wheel with both hands and punched the gas petal with his feet. The car kicked up dirt but went full force ahead, hitting the bound man and tossing him up and over the hood and roof of the car with a thump that ripped a shriek out of my lungs.

We passed the campsite with the bright and roaring fire and the camera on the tripod once, twice, and several times in a loop that didn't diverge from the previous ones. Atem panted so hard it was as if he had been running those few laps on foot.

"I don't know what to do," he said. "The car is about to run out of gas. We have a spare tank, but it's no use. We'll just keep on driving in circles."

"Well, if driving in circles is keeping us alive, who cares?" I said through shivers. The chilly wind blew through the broken window and hit my face and body, and as much as I wanted to brave the cold and keep driving, a chill crept through me, begging me to stop and find warmth.

Zeke wanted it too. He tapped my arm to get my attention and pointed enthusiastically at the campfire as we drove by. "Stay." His voice was low and hoarse. It made my eyes water just hearing how scratchy it was. "Wanna stay."

"You want to get out at the camp?" I confirmed.

He nodded.

"I don't think that's a good idea." Atem shook his head. "Remember, I'm the brains of this operation. Maybe we could just stop by there to grab our sleeping bags. That way we could stay warm, but keep moving?"

"And then what?" I tilted my head at the bright roaring fire. "Get back on the road and continue driving in circles. We're not going anywhere. We're stuck here. Don't you get it? We have to try something different."

"And get hurt or killed?" Atem shook his head. "No, thank you. I'd rather stay safe and not have to deal with the freaking boogeymen out there."

I thought of Clay and the boogeymen he faced and fought every day before he died and the look on Felicity's face right before the rope snatched her from the car. "That's easy to say, but not everyone is so lucky to just run away from their boogeymen."

"What are you talking about?" Atem looked at me through the rearview.

"Nothing." I shook my head. "I want out."

"Are you crazy?!" Atem yelled, the disbelief powered through his voice. "If we stop, those things will catch up to us. They will get us just like they got Felicity."

I huffed, trying to erase the dire look in Felicity's eyes from my mind. The fear on her face had matched my own, and if I allowed it to take over, it would keep me stuck to my seat and refusing to progress as well. "I have a plan," I started. "Take me to the campfire. And then I'll read from the notebook to get an idea of what to do next."

"Uh, I know what you'll do next," Atem offered. "You'll die."

"Not if I'm the main character."

"But you're not," he insisted, refusing to accept the thought. "And even if that were true, horror writers are brutal. They have a kill list, trust me. And the most sadistic ones don't need a list because they kill off every character in the story, including the main character."

"What if your original theory is correct?" I asked. "What if I am the author of this story?"

"You write lubby, dubby stuff, not scary, spooky," Atem pointed out. "Plus, how could you predict everything—"

"The how doesn't matter right now," I said, trying to keep the focus on my plan. "I mean, you can ask how we all see supernatural figures, or how something in the forest just ripped our friend from the car and we're just driving in loops, not going after her. It's not the how, it's the who."

"So, you wrote the story?" Atem gave me a confused look, matching Zeke's.

"What if most of this comes from my psyche somehow? Then, metaphorically, I am the writer of the story. When you read from the book, it affects me, right? None of you experienced anything like the headaches and nose bleeds after reading the notebook. That says a lot."

"Oh, yeah." Atem nodded, scratching the curls at his temple.

"So, one last time, I want to get info from the notebook that can help us." I nodded so they would agree. "I have a feeling it will work this time."

Atem sighed, giving in. He drove through the loop until the campfire lit up the side of the road again. We were on edge, looking around us, anticipating something or someone coming from the trees to stop us as the car slowed.

As the car crept over the dirt and dead leaves, getting closer to the blazing crackling flame of the fire pit, a gust of wind whipped through the trees and, like a birthday candle, the flames unexpectedly extinguished.

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