Today's the funeral.

My fingers curl into a fist as I stifle the urge to rip the creasy parchment wedged in my palms. This letter is not only meant for me, but the whole Garett family as well, and of course... for Betty Lou. I lie flat on my bed, staring up blankly at the cream-colored ceiling of my room. As though it would cause answers to pop out of oblivion and finally render clarity to all these recent disappearances that have plagued Turlock.

Another good friend has slipped off of our fingertips. Now the last friend I know in Turlock Street, Betty Lou, is moving away with her family to Oregon for their safety and the sake of Betty's sanity. A couple of weeks after Percy was officially declared missing, Betty had been in long solitary treks in the Willowacks, which is the large swath of forest between our place and a mountain, thus, driving her family worried. Now it has been two years since.

I couldn't hold a proper conversation with Betty, and I also know that she is not yet at liberty to talk about things that involve Percy. She has taken a painful blow out of the recent news and needs her space until she can finally recover her bearings. Even Betty's parents encounter difficulty approaching her, who, in turn, seems to have changed and become quite distant from them both in a literal and figurative way. And so they opt that moving may be the best option they have to combat the situation.

My brows furrow at the thought. "Yeah right, go and run away from your problems," I mutter to myself, sighing heavily.

I couldn't accept the fact that they're closing the case and declaring Percy to be dead even without tangible proof. It irks me that they've never really exerted enough effort to find his body, and now they're giving up the case and filing up a petition for presumptive death, for, according to them, his time of disappearance matches the time when a mudslide occurred in one of the hills of the Willowacks, causing a river to overflow, and for heavy floods to take over some parts of the forest. Since the Willowacks is the likeliest place where Percy may have gone, and knowing that that landscape is mostly his subject in photography class, the usual 7-years wait for presumptive death has been shortened to 2 years. They even disregarded the letter Percy left because they think he's lost it already, and it angers me. His odd claims mustn't justify his insanity. What if he's just scared?

But a part of me still believes he's just out there.

Alive and lost.

Even if I want to conduct my investigation on the matter, I don't have any evidence, and I could barely comprehend when Percy has told me once about the shadows he suspects are behind the disappearances. I don't even know if I could muster up the urge to read this letter from him, which Betty left on my open bedroom window just this morning.

Closing my eyes, I try to recall everything Percy had told me before. C'mon, Andriot, think. He'd told me about some sort of stalker at night that he believes has come from the woods. It may explain why Betty has taken treks in the Willowacks, probably hoping to find Percy.

A loud knocking on my room door abruptly halts my train of thoughts, dragging me out of my reverie and sending me to sit upright on my groaning bed.

"Yes, mom. Come in," I call out.

Mom wedges it open and stands between the door and the doorframe. She dons a black dress, a purse in hand; her wavy brown hair flows down her shoulders. She gazes at me with concern.

"Andriot, dear. Aren't you going to dress up for your friend's funeral? Mrs. Garett is going to be looking for us later in the venue," mom says.

"Mom, it's not like Percy is there. I don't even know why they have to set up a whole funeral without his body. What if he's still alive out there, mom? And I'll be at his funeral grieving over some ambiguous death. I don't get it. They've legalized the petition too soon; doesn't it feel kind of rushed to you?" I say, trying to control my voice; a better part of me is still irked for his family after filing the petition for his presumptive death.

Mom manages a weak smile. She walks into my room and sits beside me on the bed, resting a hand on my shoulder before saying, "honey, I understand what you feel, but we don't know what happened. The only lead we have is that your friend went missing on the same night when mudslides occurred in the forest. The law permits the legalization of death shorter than usual for circumstances like that. And the funeral? It's for the sake of normalcy, dear. We can't blame the Garett family. For all we know, it may just be a way to help them get over the whole tragedy that happened to their son."

"But what if Percy comes back? What if he's alive, and then... I don't know, maybe walk-in one afternoon miraculously?"

"Yes, it may happen, and for a mother who loves her son so much, I am very certain Mrs. Garett has hoped for the same thing to happen. But Andriot, Mrs. Garett went through enough pain already because of her missing husband. Imagine hoping for her lost son to come home every minute of every day over and over for a whole seven years of waiting. She's gone through a lot of bad times. We can't blame her," mom says, patting my back.

"I just can't believe what happened to Percy, mom, let alone the actions they've taken in response to it," I mutter silently, my voice brimmed with grief.

I couldn't accept that after mere two years of waiting and searching and returning empty-handed, they've finally decided to declare that Percy - my buddy - is dead.

Their assumption then is now going to be the truth I'm not yet ready to face.

"Andriot, it's okay if you don't feel like coming to the funeral today. I'll return home before supper. Just stay here and take all the time and rest you need. We'll all get over this," mom says, trying to be positive while stroking my hair.

"I don't feel like staying home either, mom. I'll probably walk around the street to look for a subject for my photography project," I lazily say. It'll be a good distraction, even though Percy and I used to hunt for subjects together back then.

"Alright, if it'll make you feel any better. Just don't forget to come home before dinner, okay?" mom says as she plants a soft kiss on my temple then briskly shambles to the doorway. Before she closes it, she peeks back and adds, "bring your phone, Andy, and text me if you're gonna be late, okay?"

"Okay," I respond as she finally closes the door, leaving me in my room.

My eyes stray on the parchment on my hand. I stroke my thumb along the dents and creases of the brown folded parchment. It feels like forever since I last find it lying on my windowpane. My fingers involuntary move to unfold the paper, but I halt it in hesitation.

It has been two years since Percy's disappearance, and now, here lies what might have been his last words before he's disappeared.

I don't think I can read this yet, not now, at least. I tighten my grip on the paper. Breathing out heavily, I clamber up to my feet and gesture towards my study table by the window. I let it fall beside my laptop. With a ping, I power my computer on. The screen lights up with a soft glow, showing the wallpaper that is a picture of me, Betty, and Percy; all three of us smiling as we lie on a bed of red- and yellow-colored leaves.

My gaze lands at Percy's expression. Even though he's all smiles just like Betty and me, there seems to be a hint of another emotion concealed in his smile.

Where the heck did you go, bud?

The loud ringing on my phone startles me. I grab it on my table and swipe along the screen to turn off the reminder I set yesterday. It's already six in the late afternoon. Judging the light outside by my window, I know it'll be the magic hour soon, which is the last hour of light before sunset, perfect for my photography project.

With that, I temporarily push aside any thoughts of Percy. With renewed motivation, I grab and don my olive sweater on my wardrobe. I grap the go-pro by my bedside table and proceed to fish my phone from my study and stash it on my brown messenger bag together with my glass prisms before I storm out of my room.

I peg the door lock and proceed into our front porch. The lighting outside paints the sky in bright reddish-orange, making some clouds appear pinkish. Rays of sunlight smear the road and infrastructures, highlighting one of the hidden gems of art forms - graffitis. In most common cities, graffitis is popularly regarded as mere vandalisms that only annoy the public, but if it's done correctly, or if you simply harbor a keen eye for it, then it becomes aesthetically pleasing. And here in Benilde City, there are many vandals with unique artistic taste, thus, leaving behind a ton of masterpieces.

A usual passerby may hardly pay heed, but it's my job to bring light upon these diamonds in the rough. Graffiti has been my main subject ever since, for it's easy to locate, especially in our vicinity. It will also be my subject for our upcoming photography project in school.

I take in and relish the fresh scent of damp afternoon woods. A gust of wind ruffles my dark brown hair, casting a chilling spell on my nape. I could almost feel it crawl down my spine. I quickly wear the lace of my camera and start to jog on my usual route. During afternoons, I usually visit at least four streets in total, Turlock being the fourth. It's just before the last light vanishes on the horizon. The furthest picture always has to be taken during twilight.

Stratton Drive comes into view ahead. I quickly bolt to the usual vacant lot a couple of houses away. Its fence's outer wall is full of graffitis. Shapes, letters, and images doodled with congruous colors beam at me, and with just the right angle and lighting, I snap up a photo, and then I snap up another one. When I have a handful of shots to choose from, I decide to jog for the second street.

It takes me no longer than fifteen minutes to reach Amberlyn Street. As I turn left, I leave Stratton. Amberlyn is just as quiet and deserted as the previous street. For today, I opt to go to a narrow alley, which has a whole line of white walls that ended up as a canvas for the vandals. The sun's golden rays light up the wall, giving me the perfect moment to take pictures with my triangular prism. Unlike in Stratton, the walls here are full of what seem to be graffiti quotes.

Then I hear footsteps closing in.

I snap my gaze to the right end of the alley, waiting for the source of the sound to show up.

Then I hear it. The sound of what seems to be a shovel getting dragged along with the sound of footsteps.

A figure bursts out into view, striding hurriedly, which nearly causes me to jump out of my skin. I mutedly thank myself for donning my camera lace. I almost fail to recognize the man who just appeared.

Old man Shaw pays no attention as he carries on, eyes wide and steady ahead. A shovel is clasped in his fist, dragging it along and leaving a trail of dirt in its wake. He usually lounges on his hammock on any given day, giving polite greetings to the passerby. But I sense something's wrong with the way he's acting now. It's almost as if he's angry for a reason I couldn't point a finger on.

"Watch the hell out, kid. Them bastards are gettin' off the grid. Ya'll better be wary of them wildlife frolickin' 'bout the streets," Old man Shaw says in a gruffly husky tone as he gets past me and further into the alley.

"What's wrong, Mr. Shaw?" I say out of curiosity.

"Them pesky wild animals from that dang forest just killed Tommy. An' I just buried the poor dog. Animals these days, they sure can get unpredictable," Old man Shaw grumbles, and I suddenly feel uneasy about it.

"Animals?" I mutter questioningly.

"Been a couple o' nights since these figures appear. Tommy's been upset ever since. I didn't know things have to get into this. Sometimes it looks like a bear, but of course, it'll be dang ridiculous to think of bears wanderin' this far out of them Willowacks. Mostly, it's a deer. I dunno, but ya'll have to be careful," Old man Shaw says before he disappears on the other end of the alley.

I take a moment to digest the thought. Wild animals wandering outside the Willowacks. What if it has something to do with the disappearances in Turlock? I mean, Turlock lies just beside the woods; it could make a point to blame the wild animals. Could Percy have accidentally stumbled upon a wild bear or boar?

My eyes remain locked at the colorful graffitis as I brood on the possibility.

Then a haunting quote catches my attention.

God ends at 10:00 pm tonight.

For a fleeting moment, I feel a wave of unsettling vibe take over my body in response to what I've just read and its implications. I idly wonder who've had the guts to write it? It seems off and very much in contrast to the other quotes around.

Hesitating, I hold up my camera and snap up a picture of it and a couple more other quotes to choose from. I then fish out a marker from my bag pocket and scribble, "Find Percy" across the wall next to a quote that reads, "The Fairy sees. The Fairy watches. How can it be of help?" I know it's kind of weird, and it's certainly is dumb to believe that a magical entity would bring my buddy back, but what can I lose?

I proceed to jog on the other end of the alley, which is a shortcut to Shale-Brooklyn Drive - the third street that'll curve back to Turlock. I honestly hope to get a better shot of the graffitis here, but then it suddenly occurs to me that this is where Percy had lived, and also happens to be where the funeral is currently being held.

I shamble surreptitiously on the other side of the road. Shale-Brooklyn is just as quiet as the other streets, and so I try to walk as casually and as quietly as I could manage. The clouds ahead gradually darken and turn to dark blue.

Twilight is nearing, and the rising shadows veil me as I pass by Percy's house, which is teeming with people. Black cars line up along the road, leading up to his home. I duck my head as I walk past them, trying not to catch anyone's attention.

As I feel convinced that I am already out of anyone's view, I proceed to jog back to Turlock and head to the freedom wall just beside the forest's first line of trees. Percy, Betty, and I use to hang around that place, and now it's going to be my subject.

The freedom wall, facing the Willowacks, is jam-packed with scribbles and is screaming with colors. Betty is a fine arts student and loves doing graffitis here if she happens to find some time to spare, but now I don't even know if we'd ever had the chance to hang out here again with Percy.

I take a moment to snap up some graffitis with my camera and prisms while there is still little sunlight left. The line of towering trees behind me slowly blocks the remaining light from the sun. As it sinks in the far horizon, I try to ignore the sudden funny feeling as if someone is watching me behind.

It's probably normal to feel that way, considering that it's already getting dark. And considering everything weird that I've seen this late afternoon.

God ends at 10:00 pm tonight.

The Fairy sees. The Fairy watches.

Then something catches my attention.

I approach the cluster of posters glued upon the wall on my far right side.

And one of the posters has Percy's picture on it, beaming up to me. A sudden flash of memory triggers a stupid grin on my face, which quickly fades at the sight of the word missing in all bold and capitalized letters.

Percy...

Just as a twig snaps behind me, I take in a sharp breath, then a cold heavy hand rests on my shoulder, and I spin around with a speed that surprises me. Before I could even shriek, a hand clamps on my mouth.

"Hush it." Betty Lou stands in front of me, her blonde hair disheveled with twigs and leaves stuck along her locks; her expression is worn-out, and so is her whole facade and her clothes for that matter. She looks as though she has just run from a wild boar.

But her eyes scream volumes. An old dirty camera hangs on the lace she's wearing, and I know that camera very well. I've seen it a lot of times already.

In fact, it belongs to Percy.

I gasp for air as she removes her hand from my mouth.

"What on blazes are you doing, Betty? You almost killed me!" I snap.

She breathes out heavily before saying, "I'm sorry. Andriot, you have to come with me." Betty gestures me to follow her as she saunters towards the line of trees, which marks the edge of the Willowacks.

"Betty, where are you going?" The feeling I've felt earlier grows heavier with each step I take towards the woods. Until I hesitate and halt, my body screams for me to step back.

"I'm going to show you something. Trust me," Betty says, sauntering further until she approaches the tree. "I feel it too," she adds.

And with that, I follow her.

We've strolled past several trees and thick foliages. Sharp leaves and protruding branches smatter and cut my skin as I advance. The trees around us tower high that it already blocks most of the light coming from the sky. Weighs are latched on my chest. I feel like we're being watched, but all I could see are layers and layers of leaves and moss-eaten trunks. The heavy feeling grows worse with the dusk blanketing the sky. It's getting late, and it's getting dark.

Then a funny voice rings out to my head like a mantra, repeating words I'd rather not think.

The Fairy sees. The Fairy watches.

"Betty, what the hell are we doing?" I say, trying to drown away the unwelcome thought.

Betty stops abruptly.

She slowly turns around to face me.

Then she smiles.

"Andriot, I'm sorry if I scared you," she says, her smile dying. "Listen, I've been visiting the Willowacks for quite some time after Percy went missing. And I've found traces." Betty's eyes turn glassy; she ducks her head down and wipes her eyes before saying, "I think something took Percy. I want to find him, Andy, but we, I mean my family... we're moving away." Her voice chokes in tears.

I shamble then halt in front of her. I then rest my hand and move to stroke her shoulder. "Hey now, what do you mean you found traces?"

"Footprints, Percy's dirty handkerchief, ripped shirt fabrics, blood marks. I've seen pictures on his camera. I don't know... I think he's been trying to follow someone here," Betty says as she wipes off tears and points down to her position, emphasizing the word, "here."

"Why would Percy do that?" I ask, my voice showing a hint of dread; my chest feels like a sodden sack of cement.

I feel eyes around as if someone's watching us. My heart starts to beat erratically within my chest; my palms begin to sweat, and I can feel every fiber of my body screaming for me to flee.

"Andriot... take a picture of me," Betty says slowly, her words trembling.

"What? Why?"

"Just do it." Betty insists.

"But, Betty-"

"Now!"

I quickly take a couple of steps back, and as if my hands involuntarily move on their own, I quickly grab my camera and snap a picture of Betty. Blinding flash showers her in a split second, then she just stands on her ground, crying. I start for her and encase her in my embrace, and only then do I become fully aware that she's burning with fever.

"Hey, I should take you home. It's getting late, and you're ill," I say, guiding her back the way we've come; my eyes strained warily around.

I do not miss it as I hear a rustle behind us.

We both turn in unison then Betty snatches the camera hanging on my chest and quickly snaps a picture. A blinding flash fills the area, and a large figure jumps back in the bushes.

"Son of a ditch!" I cry out, startled.

A huge stag is poking its head out of a large bush. A pair of longhorns stick out of its head, and it's staring blankly at us. Then old man Shaw's words echo back in my head. Been a couple o' nights since these figures appear. Tommy's been upset since. I didn't know things have to get into this. Sometimes it looks like a bear, but of course, it'll be dang ridiculous to think of bears wanderin' this far out of them Willowacks. Mostly, it's a deer. I dunno, but ya'll have to be careful.

"Betty, I think we should go now," I say as we slowly inch away from the stag.

Stag, as I've known, isn't bad around humans, but I won't dare upset this huge one. I keep my eyes plastered at the creature as we get farther and farther, and the stag seems to just stare at us the whole time, which I find oddly weird. My heart didn't stop smashing my chest until it's out of our view. Nevertheless, I still couldn't take my eyes off behind, not after what just showed up.

It's already dark when we finally exit the Willowacks. As we stand before Betty's house, she removes the camera lace from her head and handles Percy's camera to me.

"Keep it," she says weakly.

"Why?" I ask.

Betty tips her toes and snakes her arms around my neck. She pulls my head down nearer to her face, and her breath brushes against my ears, then she whispers, "clue one."

It's the last thing she says. I try calling after her, but she pays me no heed as she dashes into her house and locks her door, leaving me behind with Percy's camera.

As soon as I get home, I dash into my room and connect Percy's camera to my laptop. A folder pops into my screen, which reads, "graffitis".

As I open it, the same graffiti I've encountered earlier flashes into my laptop screen. Percy has never told me about this before. I didn't know he also takes pictures of graffitis. I've thought I am the only one among us three who've habitually collected graffiti images. Different quotes appear on the screen.

Democracy gives us power...

We stand for the nation...

Veronica Topher should change...

Then I come across another quote, an eerily familiar quote.

The Fairy sees. The Fairy Watches.

God ends at 10:00 pm tonight.

For a reason I couldn't point a finger on, this quote gives me the heebie-jeebies. Probably it's because of its eerie message. But I still don't get the clue. It doesn't make any sense.

Then a sudden knocking on my room door startles me. I quickly shut my laptop just in time as mom opens the door.

"Andriot, it's time for dinner," mom says.

"Okay, mom. Will be right there," I say, my words tumbling on each other.

As she closes the door, I turn my room lights on. Then I proceed to close my bedroom window.

Just in time as something grabs my attention.

Outside my bedroom window, is a new graffiti scribbled on the wall outside, which faces my room. The graffiti is written in red, and it reads, "The Fairy Sees. The Fairy Watches. Percy Garett comes back at 10:00 pm tonight."

I quickly grab my phone and swipe into Betty's number. I then hit her a call.

"Andriot?" Betty crackles on the other end of the line.

"Betty, we need to talk," I say.

Someone has probably seen me while taking pictures earlier. Who is it? I don't know. I don't even know if this is just some sort of prank.

It should be good news to know that Percy is coming back.

But my rational side knows very well that Percy isn't going to show up soon.

It can be someone else, or perhaps, something else.