The old pizzeria was eerily quiet, the faint hum of flickering lights the only sound in the dusty, abandoned space. You walked cautiously, drawn to this place by an unexplainable pull, as though something—or someone—was waiting for you.

In the far corner of the room, near an old party table covered in tattered decorations, a small figure sat hunched. The boy was translucent, his form shimmering faintly in the dim light. His striped shirt and shorts were eerily familiar, and as he lifted his head, his wide, tear-filled eyes locked onto yours.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice soft and trembling, carrying an edge of fear.

You hesitated, your heart aching at the sight of him. “I… I don’t know,” you admitted, kneeling a short distance away to avoid startling him. “But I felt like someone needed me. Was it you?”

The boy’s lips quivered, and he hugged his knees tighter. “I didn’t mean to bring you here,” he whispered. “I didn’t think anyone would come.”