EDIT : instead of the name being one step closer its never look back , since there was a few plot changes also my swc writing comp entry [ STARTING POV - Jenna ] I wandered through the dark green forest, the same path Alice used to walk every afternoon. The air felt heavier here, like it remembered things even when I didn’t. I had this faint, blurry memory of the three of us; me, Alice, and Kade sitting at the edge of the forest with our legs dangling over the drop. None of us talked. We didn’t need to. I remember Kade’s mom calling our names for almost thirty minutes before she finally found us, all sunburnt and pretending we hadn’t heard her. Those were the good days, the kind that felt endless until they weren’t. I found a resting spot beneath a crooked oak and lowered myself onto the mossy ground. My journal fell open to page 41, the corner already bent from being flipped too many times. I started sketching the scene in front of me. Soft outlines first, then the shadows, then the curve of the branches. The distant waterfall rumbled like a heartbeat, its water slipping over the rocks in a rhythm that felt almost like a melody I used to know. When I finished the last details of the tree trunk, I stood up and brushed away a few flies buzzing too close to my face. I tightened my headband, letting my hair fall back into place, and kept walking with no real direction. The forest didn’t ask anything of me. It didn’t rush me. I could stay here as long as I wanted. There wasn’t anywhere waiting for me anymore, and honestly, I wasn’t in a hurry to go back to anything. [ SWITCHED POV - Kade ] Catch the ball. CATCH THE BALL. I yelled, already out of breath. My voice cracked a little from shouting so much. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and I wiped it away with the back of my hand. We’d been out here for almost an hour, and somehow Alice still managed to send the softball flying over the fence again. She wasn’t bad at learning things. She picked stuff up pretty fast, but it always took her a while before she could do it without messing up. I kept telling her she’d get it eventually, but at this point I was starting to think the fence was collecting more balls than she was. I jogged over to the cooler and grabbed two cold water bottles, the plastic already foggy from the heat. I twisted one open for myself and held the other in my hand as I walked back toward the field. But when I got there, the spot where Alice had been standing was completely empty. Her glove was still on the ground. The bat was leaning against the fence. But Alice? Gone. Like she’d just evaporated into the air. I spun around, scanning the field, the bleachers, even the shady spot under the big oak tree. Nothing. Not even her footsteps in the dirt.
(( Continued )) Alice? I called out, my voice suddenly way quieter than before. The only thing that answered me was the wind pushing through the grass. I took a few steps forward, still holding the extra water bottle, my fingers tightening around the plastic. The field felt too quiet all of a sudden. Even the cicadas seemed to pause. I walked toward the fence, half expecting her to pop out from behind it with that stupid grin she always made when she thought she was being funny. But nothing moved. I crouched down and picked up her glove. The dirt on the palm was still warm, like she’d dropped it only seconds ago. My stomach twisted a little. Alice didn’t just wander off without saying something. She never did that. Not to me. I checked behind the dugout, then the bathrooms, then the path that led toward the woods. Each step felt heavier, like the air was thickening around me. I kept calling her name, quieter each time, like the forest was swallowing my voice before it could go anywhere. I stopped at the edge of the trees. The shade stretched out in front of me, cool and dark, like it was waiting. I swallowed hard and stepped inside, pushing branches out of my way. Alice, come on, I said, trying to sound annoyed instead of worried. This isn’t funny. The forest didn’t care. It just stood there, tall and silent, like it knew something I didn’t. I kept walking, deeper than I meant to, until the field was completely out of sight. The only sound was the waterfall somewhere far ahead, steady and low, like a heartbeat. And then I saw it. A single footprint in the dirt. Small. Fresh. Pointing deeper into the trees. I felt my chest tighten as I knelt down to look at it. It was hers. It had to be. I stood up slowly, gripping the water bottle like it was the only solid thing left around me. Alice, I whispered, not yelling anymore. Then I followed the footprint. [ SWITCHED POV - Jenna ] The deeper I walked, the quieter everything became. Even the waterfall sounded farther away now, like it was pulling back from me. I stepped over a fallen branch and brushed my fingers along the rough bark, grounding myself for a second. The forest felt different today. Not dangerous, just watchful, like it was paying attention to every move I made. I kept going until the trees opened into a small clearing I didn’t remember ever seeing before. Sunlight spilled through the canopy in thin, soft lines, catching on floating dust and tiny insects drifting in the air. It looked almost unreal, like something out of one of my sketches. I sat on a flat rock near the center and let my backpack slide off my shoulder. My journal was still tucked under my arm, page 41 peeking out. I didn’t open it this time. I just held it against my chest and breathed in the smell of pine and damp earth. For a moment, I thought I heard something behind me. A branch snapping. A footstep. Something small but sharp enough to make my heart jump. I turned my head, slow and careful, but there was nothing there. Just the trees, still and tall, pretending they hadn’t made a sound. I stood up again, brushing dirt from my palms. The clearing suddenly felt too open, too exposed. I tightened my grip on the journal and stepped back toward the tree line. That was when I noticed it. A faint indentation in the soil near the edge of the clearing. Not an animal print. Not mine. Something smaller. Lighter. Fresh. My breath caught in my throat. It looked like a footprint. And for a second, I couldn’t move. I just stared at it, the shape sinking into the earth like it had been left only moments ago. Alice used to walk this forest more than any of us. She knew every shortcut, every hidden path, every place the rest of us never bothered to explore. But she hadn’t been here in months. At least, she wasn’t supposed to be. I crouched down, my fingers hovering above the print without touching it. The dirt around it was still soft. Still unsettled. Someone had been here. Maybe her. Maybe not. I stood up slowly, the forest suddenly feeling heavier again, like it was holding its breath. Then I stepped toward the footprint, following the direction it pointed.
