The park was quiet, save for the distant chirping of early morning birds. I checked my watch again—06:07 AM, and Rahul was still missing. My patience was wearing thin. If he didn't show soon, I'd have to consider this a prank. Come on, Rahul. What's so urgent? Where are you?

At 06:10 AM, I saw him pedaling furiously down the path, his bicycle wheels humming against the pavement. He skidded to a halt in front of me, breathless and apologetic. "Sorry I'm late," he panted. "Thanks for waiting."

I nodded politely, fighting the urge to show my frustration. He glanced around nervously, as if expecting shadows to emerge from the behind. His face was almost as pale as a ghost, totally detached, and barely present. Who is he scared of? Are there any bad people following him?

"Come on," he urged, leading me to a bench. We sat down, the park's serenity contrasting sharply with my racing heart.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked, trying to pierce through the dense fog of his silence.

Without a word, Rahul reached into his bag and pulled out a small, brown leather diary. It looked aged, the leather torn and swollen as if it had been used extensively. The pages were packed tightly, bulging slightly from the pressure of the ink inside.

I frowned, curiosity piqued. "Why are you showing me this? And whose diary is this?"

"It's Varun's," Rahul said softly, referring to his missing brother. "I grabbed it when my mom was cleaning his room. I... I wanted to keep it safe."

The name Varun Verma sounded familiar, but I couldn't recall any details about him. I needed more than just a name to understand the gravity of what was happening.

"Why me?" I asked, unable to hide the confusion in my voice.

"I don't know whom to trust anymore," Rahul admitted, his voice trembling. "My parents won't talk about him. There aren't many people I know. I just... have a feeling that you're trustworthy. Plus, you're the only one who seemed to care enough to ask about him."

He looked at me with desperate eyes, searching for something—anything—in my expression that might help him make sense of this chaos.

Before I could respond, I threw another question at him. "Why didn't you file a police complaint or seek their help?"

Rahul's face flushed with frustration. "We did! The police were the first place we went. But after a few weeks, they just gave up. They said he ran away to join some cult or gang."

His voice was sharp, filled with anger and hurt. I watched as tears glistened in his eyes, magnified by the glasses perched on his nose. They made his eyes look larger, and the tears shimmered like flecks of gold against his brown irises.

My heart ached for this young boy who was clearly on the edge of breaking down. I wanted to comfort him but wasn't sure how. "I'll do my best to help you, however I can," I offered, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

Rahul seemed to find some solace in my words. He flipped open the diary, looking at me with hopeful eyes. "Maybe we can find something here."

I nodded, signaling my agreement. The pages of the diary were a stark contrast to their worn exterior. The initial entries were in elegant cursive, reminiscent of old handwritten manuscripts. As I turned the pages, the neat handwriting deteriorated into a chaotic scrawl, the ink smeared and overlapping in a desperate mess.

The final entry was unsettling: "I AM GOING TO REVEAL IT SOON. THEN, I AM GETTING OUT OF HERE AND I AM GOING TO FLY N." The letter 'N' was cut off with a stroke, as if Varun intended to keep its meaning a secret.

Rahul's eyes were locked onto mine, filled with a desperate plea for answers—as if I held the key to what was once his and is now lost.

"What does this mean? Did Varun know something he wanted to reveal?" I asked, trying to shift the focus and satisfy my growing curiosity.

"I don't know," Rahul said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He was overjoyed when he got the scholarship to Blackthorn Academy. But after summer break, he began to distance himself from us. He looked so stressed the last time I saw him. Before he left, he hugged me and said, 'I will always love you,' and then... he just never came back."

At the mention of Blackthorn Academy, my chest tightened. I hesitated but then decided to tell him. "I'm, uh, also going to Blackthorn Academy," I said quietly, watching his reaction.

Rahul blinked, his eyes widening. "You're going there too?" he asked, a mix of surprise and apprehension in his voice. "That... that's where everything changed for Varun. Be careful."

His voice cracked as he spoke, and I felt the gravity of his words sink in. I could see the pain etched into his face. "Did you show this diary to the police?" I asked, hoping to confirm any details I might have missed.

"Yes," Rahul said softly, his gaze fixed on the ground. His fists clenched, and fresh tears began to well up in his eyes. "But they claimed he was involved in drugs and a dangerous group. They even found drugs under his bed. I know my brother—he would never do something like that. He was framed."

I placed a comforting hand on his back, trying to offer some solace. "I do not know how I can help you, Rahul," I said, my voice laced with empathy.

Rahul's face contorted with self-reproach. "How stupid am I? I thought maybe I could find my brother." He stood abruptly, and the diary slipped from his grasp, landing heavily on the ground.

As the diary hit the earth, a sudden gust of wind violently flipped open the pages, revealing a crudely carved symbol into the last page—two black triangles intersecting to form an 'X'.

My breath caught in my throat. That symbol... I had seen it before. At my old school. Hidden in the storage room. But why here?

I crouched down, my hand trembling as I picked up the diary. "Rahul," I asked urgently, "Do you know what this symbol means?"

Rahul looked at the drawing with confusion, shaking his head. "No, I don't know anything about it. Why do you ask?"

"I've seen this logo before, in my old school," I whispered, my voice distant as I traced the symbol with my eyes.

I turned to him, lowering my head to match his height. "Can I keep this diary? I'll give it back soon. I need to figure something out."

Rahul's face was a blend of confusion and resignation. "Uh, yeah, sure. It's better if you keep it. Anyway, I don't have much use for it.

I stood up, the weight of the diary in my hand somehow heavier now. "I'll let you know if I find anything," I promised.

He handed me his number, and after a hasty goodbye, I hurried home, my mind spinning with questions.

When I finally reached my room, I collapsed onto my mattress, utterly drained. The slow spin of the ceiling fan felt like a background noise to my swirling thoughts. The weight of everything—Rahul's finding, Varun's diary and the scribbled symbol—was heavy, making it hard to even think straight.

"I can't let this drown me," I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible in the stillness. But despite my resolve, sleep overtook me before I could fight the weight of it all.

The sharp knock on my door jolted me awake, dragging me from my restless slumber. My mother's voice cut through the fog of my thoughts, pulling me back to reality. As I blinked and struggled to clear the haze from my mind, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. What awaited me next? I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever it was, it would only add to the tangled mystery I was now entangled in.

♡♡♡

A u t h o r's   N o t e

Hey lovely blueberries! 🌟 I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Your thoughts and comments mean the world to me, so don't hold back! Drop a comment below and let me know what you think. Your feedback fuels my writing fire! 🔥✨

— Your Blueberry 🍇