#ReedsyWicked - A Shadowed Love

Five years had passed since Jacob had disappeared. They, Jacob and Amelia, had spent that final afternoon together, walking down to the lake near the cabin, laughing and teasing each other like they always did. Jacob had been her light, her steady ground, the one who could make her feel at peace in a chaotic world. And yet, as quickly as a flame snuff out, he was gone.

The townsfolk had their theories. Some whispered that he’d grown tired of the quiet life and moved on to find adventure. Others believed that he’d been caught in a storm and swept out to sea. More others think Amelia has something to do with his disappearance. 'She had murdered him, and she is claiming innocence'. These were the quiet thoughts and whispers Amelia thinks she heard every time she is passing by people or walking through the town doing her chores. But Amelia knew better. She remembered his promises, his dreams, his plans to build a life with her here, where the world felt a little softer, a little kinder.

Yet, five years had come and gone, and she was still waiting. Amelia would always think to herself with sadness, ‘If only I had followed him to the field, he would still be here’. ‘If only he’d listened to me to not go alone that afternoon, we would be here, together’.

Each day, she went through the same rituals. She’d wake before dawn, brew a pot of coffee, and sit by the window, looking out over the field where she’d last seen him. The trees, the hills, and the wildflowers bore silent witness to her grief, but they gave her no answers. She had combed the forest countless times, retraced every step they’d taken together, but the only thing she’d found was emptiness.

Tonight was different. The clouds were heavy and dark, and a storm was brewing. The wind howled through the trees, and the cabin creaked in response. It felt almost alive, as if it, too, were aching with her sorrow. Amelia wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and stepped out onto the porch, watching as lightning split the sky in the distance.

In the middle of the storm, she saw a flash of movement. A figure—familiar yet blurred by the sheets of rain—stood at the edge of the forest. Her heart skipped, and for a wild, reckless moment, she thought it was him.

“Jacob!” she called, her voice swallowed by the storm.

The figure didn’t respond, only stood there, half-shrouded in darkness. But as lightning struck again, she saw it—a shadow, taller and broader than Jacob, and wrapped in a cloak that fluttered like wings.

Fear mixed with her desperation, but she moved forward, her feet carrying her into the rain-soaked grass. The storm swirled around her, icy and relentless, yet her gaze stayed locked on the figure as it turned and drifted back into the woods.

Amelia followed, her heart pounding, driven by a need she couldn’t explain. The rain blurred her vision, soaking her to the bone, but she kept moving. She felt like she was walking through a dream, a waking nightmare where the world tilted, and time slowed.

The figure led her deep into the forest, where the trees stood close together, their branches intertwining overhead, blocking out the moonlight. The storm quieted here, but a heavy silence settled over the woods. The figure stopped at a small clearing, and as Amelia approached, she saw it standing by a circle of stones, ancient and moss-covered.

The figure raised its head, and she saw a face—sharp, pale, and entirely unfamiliar. Eyes as dark as coal stared back at her, unblinking, and a faint, mocking smile twisted its lips.

“You seek him,” the figure said, its voice low and smooth, like the whisper of leaves on a winter night.

Amelia nodded, feeling her voice catch in her throat. “Jacob… where is he?”

The figure tilted its head, amusement flashing in its eyes. “Lost things do not always wish to be found.”

She felt a shiver run down her spine, but she held her ground. “He didn’t leave me. He would never have left willingly.”

The figure let out a soft, haunting laugh. “Ah, but love is a fickle thing, is it not? What you seek may not be as you remember. Time distorts even the most precious of memories.”

Amelia’s chest tightened. She had heard enough. She turned to leave, but the figure’s voice stopped her.

“Are you certain you want to know?” it asked, a touch of cruelty lacing its tone. “Once you step beyond this place, there will be no returning to the world you knew.”

Amelia clenched her fists, feeling the weight of years of unanswered questions, the hollow ache of empty nights spent alone, the love that still lingered like a ghost in her heart. She turned back to the figure, her voice steady and resolute.

“Yes. I need to know.”

The figure’s smile widened, and it gestured to the circle of stones. “Then step inside, and we shall see what the past holds.”

Hesitating for only a moment, Amelia stepped into the circle. As she did, the air around her shifted, thickened, until it felt like she was underwater. Colors blurred, sounds faded, and the world seemed to fold in on itself. When the fog lifted, she found herself standing by the lake where she and Jacob had spent countless hours together.

But it was different.

The trees were taller, the grass greener, and a warmth filled the air that she hadn’t felt in years. She looked around, confused, until she saw him.

Jacob stood at the edge of the lake, his back to her, his figure strong and steady, just as she remembered. Her heart swelled with hope and desperation, and she took a step forward.

“Jacob!” she called, her voice barely a whisper.

He turned, and her breath caught in her throat. His face was pale, his eyes hollow, and there was a distance in his gaze that she had never seen before. He looked at her as if she were a stranger, his expression blank and unfeeling.

“Jacob… it’s me. It’s Amelia.”

But he didn’t respond. He only looked at her, his eyes empty, as though the warmth and love she remembered had been erased.

And then, she saw it—a shadow lingering behind him, barely visible, yet present. It was the same figure from the forest, watching her with cold amusement.

“What did you do to him?” Amelia demanded, her voice breaking.

The shadowy figure laughed softly, a sound like the rustling of dead leaves. “He is here, as he always was. But memories are fragile things, easily twisted, easily lost. You wanted to know the truth, Amelia. And now, you see it. He is lost—not to the world, but to himself.”

Tears blurred her vision as she reached out, trying to touch Jacob, to pull him back from the void that had claimed him. But her hand passed through him, as though he were made of mist.

The shadow continued, its voice a chilling whisper. “You were right—he did not leave willingly. But he is not the man you remember. He is but an echo, a fragment of the life you shared.”

Amelia’s heart shattered, and she fell to her knees, the weight of grief pressing down on her. She had searched for so long, clinging to the hope that she would find him, that she could bring him back. But now, she realized that the Jacob she loved was gone, lost to a darkness she couldn’t comprehend.

As she knelt there, broken and defeated, the shadow moved closer, its presence cold and suffocating.

“You may leave, Amelia, if you wish. But know this: to forget is a mercy. You could stay, here in this place, with the memory of him as he was, or leave and remember nothing.”

She looked up at the shadow, her heart heavy with the weight of choice. She could stay in this illusion, with a hollow version of Jacob, trapped in a lie that would never bring her peace. Or she could leave, carrying the memory of him but knowing she would never truly have him back.

Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I will remember. I will carry him with me, even if it hurts.”

The shadow regarded her in silence, as though weighing her answer, before it stepped back, disappearing into the darkness. The world around her began to dissolve, the lake and the trees fading like a dream at dawn.

When Amelia opened her eyes, she was back in the forest, the circle of stones cold beneath her feet. The storm had passed, and the night was calm, the air heavy with the scent of rain.

She turned back toward the cabin, feeling a strange sense of peace. She knew now that Jacob was gone, that he had been lost to a world she couldn’t reach. But he would always be a part of her—a memory, a whisper in the wind, an echo of a love that had been pure and true.

As she walked back to the cabin, the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the fields. And though her heart ached with the weight of loss, she knew that she would carry him with her, in the spaces between breaths, in the silence of the night, in the gentle touch of the morning sun.

For love, she realized, was never truly lost. It lingered, like a ghost, forever entwined in the heart that bore it. And so, as she stepped back into the cabin, she whispered a final goodbye, letting him go even as she held him close.

And in the quiet that followed, she felt a gentle warmth, as though he were there beside her, and she knew that he would never truly be gone.