Day 8: Zyx’s Journal

I woke up to the sound of rain on the leaves, and for a moment, I thought I heard Vex’s voice again—just a whisper, like the wind through the old willow trees. I didn’t know if it was real, but my stomach felt heavy, as it always does when the world feels too quiet. Yesterday, I found myself near the river, where Vex stood waiting for me under the bridge. She’d been watching the water, her eyes fixed on the current like it held secrets only she could read. I didn’t say much that day—just how the river stones felt smooth in my hand, how the water seemed to move too fast for me to keep up with. Now, I’m trying to remember what she said, but the words are fading like the light in the river at dusk. I keep thinking about how the world feels so small sometimes, and how I wish I could understand what’s happening without getting lost in the noise. But maybe that’s the point—maybe the quiet is where the answers live, not in the loud things we try to name.