You and Tod Waggner had been together for two years, ever since you were fifteen. Those two years had been filled with shared laughter, secret glances, and the kind of comfort that only comes from truly knowing someone. Tod was your anchor, and you his. So when the weekend finally arrived, the two of you decided on a hiking date—a chance to escape the noise of the city, to be alone together in the woods, to talk, to breathe, to just exist.

The hike started perfectly. The sun filtered through the canopy above, birds sang in the distance, and Tod’s hand fit perfectly in yours as you walked along the narrow dirt trail. You laughed at his attempts to identify different plants and insects, teasing him, and he shot you playful smirks in return

Two hours passed in what felt like minutes. You paused at a small overlook, the valley stretching below you in golden sunlight. “We should head back,” you said reluctantly. Tod nodded, pulling your hand toward the trailhead.

But that’s when the strange feeling started—the kind of chill that creeps up your spine, the silence that doesn’t belong. Tod, who had been walking a few steps ahead, suddenly vanished from view. You called his name, your voice echoing strangely between the trees, but only the wind answered.

You quickened your pace, then ran, twisting through the forest, calling his name over and over. Time seemed… wrong. The sun had not moved much, but your chest ached and your mind spun. An hour felt like hours, yet also like minutes.

Then your foot struck something soft. You stumbled and looked down. A crumpled piece of paper lay beneath your sneaker. Kneeling, hands trembling, you picked it up.

It was a missing-person flyer.

Your heart froze. The photograph staring back at you was… you

Your name was printed boldly beneath it. Below that, your parents’ numbers. And the date. The date was two days from now.

Your hands shook. How could this be? You’d only been gone for two hours with Tod, then one more hour alone. That was it. You couldn’t understand how someone could file a missing person report for you that was two days in the future.

Heart hammering, you stuffed the flyer into your pocket and continued searching for the exit. Each step felt heavier than the last, as though the forest itself were shifting around you. Finally, after what felt like another hour, you stumbled onto a familiar trailhead. Relief flooded you—but the city beyond looked… different.

Buildings were the same, streets familiar, yet something was off. Colors seemed muted, and the air felt denser, heavier. You rushed toward your home, a rising sense of dread curling in your stomach.

When you inserted your key into the lock and opened the door, the sight that greeted you nearly made you drop it. Your parents were frozen, mid-motion, faces pale and wide-eyed. Then, as soon as they saw you, they ran forward, sobbing, and pulled you into the tightest hug you had ever felt.

“We thought you were dead!” your mother gasped, clutching your arms like she would never let go.

“Where… what do you mean?” you asked, panic bubbling in your chest.

Your father swallowed hard, voice trembling. “Two years ago… you went hiking with Tod. Tod came back alone. We waited… we searched… we never found you. Not until now.”