Chapter Text
After this sleepover, Layla, Felix, Lilian and Melissa never met again. They all moved to different schools and countries and lost contact with each other. There is a belief that once someone has finished their role in your life, you’ll never meet them again no matter what. I guess this happened to them four. They are fated to take their own paths for now.
It’s been over 10 years since that fateful day. Layla already had a family and a stable life. She almost forgot about her old best friends. She just wrote it off as a defence mechanism against some tragedy that happened. Since not even her parents remembered anything, this must just be a child’s fantasy. Although throughout her life, she has always felt something following her. Just out of sight. Disappearing as soon as she looked in that direction. Who knows, it has always been a child’s imagination. Right?
What if I told you that this story turned into Layla’s the moment Eiden died. This was her story and her point of view all along. Maybe you, dear reader, noticed that Layla’s chapter never ended. Remember when she closed her eyes and fell asleep? Did I ever say she woke up? What if I were to say all five of them are still in that house. Forgotten by the world and rotting away, unable to do anything. You shouldn’t always rely on the narrator as much, I know no more than you do. Lastly, remember:
D̶̰̩̞̼̲̖͖̯̗̫̮̪̤̏͒̋̎̔͜ơ̵̢̢̩̱̫͎̣̬̬̯̩̥̎̓̆̑͌̋̇͐̃͆̽̈́̆̍̀͋͗͘̕͘ņ̵̮̯̭͉̮͔̦̈́͋̾̾͆̐̐̈͂̔̂̈́̈̕̚̚ͅͅ’̶̡̨̢̨̝͓͕͓̭̗̺͍͎̣͈̱͖̼̫̥̫̞̗̺̊̍̈́̑͊́̾̑́̊͂͒̃̅̋̃̈́̇͋̀ͅͅͅt̷͔̳͎͇̝̼̞̣͇̤͎̬̬̪̮̮̹͑̄̃͋̍̅̾̀̑̀̅̄̆̑̈́̀̐̉͂͒̆͠ ̸̢̨̧̢̨̛̼̹̤̻͓͚͍͕̰̖̯͓͖̗͚̩̖̰̲̬͎̼͓̻̯̤̥͍̤̮͍̘̥͐̓͂̿́͐̑̀͑̐̍̈̉̌͐͆̄̓̐̔̾̀̆̽͜ͅb̶̡̧̖̣̳̙̼̭̘̖͙̖̹̭̙̘͕͊̇̒̀̈̎̓͌́̔̾̆̏̑̔̏͐̑͐͛̇͋͋̌́̂̊̕̕͠ẻ̴͉̼̄͒͋̔͌͌̑͗̓́͂̿̐͛̅̈́̀͘l̶͓̣̯͎̭̹͓̦͎̗̆͛͊͋͂̓̑̎̀̒̃̂̿̆̋̌̕i̵̠̖̻̖͖̤̺̟̟͌́̈̒̔͗̿̔̈́̀͋̋̾̕͝e̶̛͍̰̋̓̑́̎̀̀͌̇̀̇͑͘͝v̴̡̡̡̤̺͇̻̱̺̺̹͉̙̀̇̂̅͆̆̇̄̉͋͆̃̿̅̿̒͑̆̆̇̀̓̚͠͝͠͠͝ͅͅȩ̸̧̢̧̺̫̹͙͉̟͇̙̞̜̣̲̦͍̜͓̟̮̹̳̠͙̘͔̝̟̜̹̣͔̬̱̻̥̦̜͇̬̃͋͒̿͆̍̎͑͆̌̉̃̊̏͆̀̑̀̅̈́̈̍̌͊͋͠͠͝͝ͅ ̵̧̨̨̩͈̠̥̳̣̪͍͍̜̠͈̗̫̬͉̲͚̤̱̹͖͎̗̠̫͆͆̂̊̐̀̃̌͒̕͜͜w̷̛̫͍̠͚̞̬̹̙̯̟̦͓͈̙̯̄͌͌̃͊͗̀͌̂͌̔̓̓́̏̅̀͊̓̈́̓̐́̈́̏̉̀͝͠͠ͅͅh̷̨̧̻̹̙͈̘̺̗̪͈̻͈̳̗̖̫͈͓̞̿͋̀́̕͜͠a̵̢̧̢͕̹̖̟͓̣͈͙̣͓̥͍̭͓̫͖̠̼͎̖̺̠͎͈͇͔̭̍͆͜͝t̶̡̢̛͈̼̙̯͇͚̟̠̩̬͔̦̗͍̺̪͓͖͉̻̺̲̦͓̲̙̺̹͇̙̺̫̙́̊͑̂̍̽̌̆̑̾̄̈́̔̓͂̓̏̊̇̏̏̉̿̌͒̈́͗̊̎͊͂̇͌͆̄̕͠͠͠ͅ ̶̢̡̡̨̡̨̛̪̣͇̟̳̱̺͎̦̘̭͈͎̬͙͎̳͚̜̜̰̣̥̠͉͈̼̠͓̮̞̲̝̙̺͕̿̔͑̋̈́̓̍͋̈̎́̄́̑̎̓͆̋̾̌̉̃͗̄͒͌̇̔̍̀̈̌̄͗̕̕͘̚̕̚͠y̴̨̛̰̘̲̯͔̠̯̘̦̥̙̫̟͎̘̬͓̰̦̤̎͛̌͒̅̅̏͊͛͋̾̄̾̈́̇́̾̋̾͌̃͊̏̈́͌̆̈́̃̚̕̚͘͘͜͜͝͝͝o̷̖̪͔͆̀̈̎̍̊̿̓̀͛̔̀̿̅͒̈́͘͝͝ͅṷ̸̡̡̨̧̨̖̞̥̣̞̮̤̻̬͈̙͖̝̺͕͚͉̬̻͉͓̩͎͔̰̝͉̅̾̽̋́͋͛́̌͋̈́͗̀͊̀̾̓͛͒̓͐̇̒͊͜͝͝͝ͅ ̵̧̛̦͙̦̪̩̪̼̪͙̥̜͓͍̪͍̅͌̇̄̈̈́̐̐͊̈́͗̂̉̌̆̃̐͑̃̋́͑̓̎̽̅͑̇͛̕̕̚̚͠ͅs̷̡̧̡̡̛̘̘͕̪͚̱̦͈̠͕̙̗͉͉̺̭̦̪̝͔̺͎̙̼͚͔̲̖̮͉͎͕̣̯̐̾̆͗̏͌̾͂͌̔́̀̎̔̈́͑̾̎̅̅̚͝ͅͅẽ̴̢͈̠̝͖͓̖͙̺̰̻͓̦̻̠̙̘͎̬͈͚̳̙̬̩͓͙̮̖̩̜̳͚̘̂̈́̈̏̃͊͆͑͑̈́̇͌̔̾̓͆̕͘͜͜͜ͅé̸̢̨̢̧̢̡̢͎̗͉̱̫̩͍̘̱͍͙̭͎̩̳̖̖͈̫̞̟̦̯͎̹̬̹̙͓̜̯̮̂̒̀͜ͅͅ