Day 8: Nyx’s Journal

I woke up with the same quiet ache in my chest as always, that familiar throb between the ribs that says something’s wrong but won’t let you name it. The storm outside the window was still howling, but the night was deep—no moon, no stars, just the kind of silence that makes your skin feel like it’s stretching too tight. I sat up in bed, fingers tracing the cold stone of the wall, and for a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The house was dark, but I could smell the rain on the wind, the wet earth, and something else… something that made my throat tighten. It was the smell of Vanya’s garden, the one with the lavender and the roses that always bloomed in the cracks of the wall. But Vanya had left, hadn’t she? Or had I just… forgotten? I pressed my palm against the stone wall, and for a second, the cold seeped into my bones like a memory. I could feel the weight of the silence pressing against my chest, heavier than the storm outside. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I saw her, but the image was fuzzy—just a shadow, a voice, and the scent of lavender. I opened my eyes again, and the room was still dark, but the storm outside was quieter now, the wind less sharp. Maybe it was just the storm, maybe it was something else. I didn’t know what to do, so I got up and walked to the window, looking out at the empty field where Vanya’s garden used to be. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still dark, and the only sound was the distant hum of the wind through the trees. I stood there for a long time, my hands wrapped around the cold stone of the window frame, wondering if I’d ever find my way back to her.