The Face of the Wicked

ble force. Willow's Creek, with its quaint charm and familiar faces, seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the moment

th a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Tonight marked a milestone in my life, one that I had been

ice pulled me out of my reverie, and I turned to see

er be, Sarah," I replied, forcing a note of confidence into my voice that I didn't quite feel. "But I

ou are just nervous about your party, Katharina," she reassured me, placing a comfort

hat had me on edge. There was something stirring in the air, something th

o the porch with a smile on his face. "Sorry to interrupt, girls," he said, his voice warm and familiar

e had been a constant presence in my life ever since my mother passed away, a

ing a smile as I followed him bac

with the soft strains of music playing in the background. The living room had been transformed into a ma

lingering sense of unease that gnawed at my insides, I was grateful for the love and support

ut aside my fears and enjoy the night. But try as I might, I couldn't shake the feeling t

ruck midnight once again, signaling the end of my birthday celebration. The gues

of me felt hollow. I wish my mother was here celebrating with us. I felt this hollowness inside me ever since she had passed away two years ago, from

late. A shiver ran down my spine as I turned to see a pair of piercing eyes watching m

ut, my voice trembling with a

ack into the shadows, leaving me alone once again with no

truggled to make sense of what had just happened. What was that f

art?" my father inquired. "You startled me. I thought I saw something lurking in the shadows..." I confessed. "It's li

advised. "Yeah, you're right. Goodnight, Dad. Thank you for tonight. I love you," I said

rhaps my dad is right; we do reside next to the woods. Yet, I couldn