"Sweetheart, it's time to call it a night," Dean murmured softly as he gently pried the phone from my grasp, coaxing me towards the inviting embrace of the bed.

"You've been working a lot lately," I muttered, voicing my concern.

"I'm aware," he replied with a sigh.

The following day, he returned the phone to me, and I wasted no time diving back into the group chat.

Me

So, shouldn't we get to

Know eachother more

Tammy

Oooh sounds fun!

I'll go first

FLASHBACK

Tammy POV

Returning to summer camp was always a mixed bag of emotions for me, a place I both cherished and dreaded.

"Tammy, come get the rest of your stuff," my aunt grumbled impatiently from the driver's seat, not bothering to step out of the car. 

The atmosphere grew tense around me as I was reminded of the person I was here because of. Gathering my belongings, I noticed my aunt couldn't even bring herself to glance at me through the rearview mirror.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the uneasy silence from behind me.

"Need a hand there?" the tall woman inquired, her attire suggesting she was a staff member, appearing out of nowhere.

"Um... yeah, please," I blurted out, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over me.

She chuckled softly before taking my belongings, "Is she going to lend a hand?" she inquired, casting a glance towards my aunt.

"Nope," I replied, noting the slight grimace on my face.

"Well, that's quite alright. I suppose I have more time to chat with you then," she remarked cheerfully.

"Yeah, I'm actually a new counselor here. Thought it would be a great way to spend my summer. And you?" I asked as we made our way into the expansive cabin, her leading the way down the hall past the kitchen to a room.

"Looks like you're in luck, having a room all to yourself. I'm one of the chefs here, but I also help out on the grounds," she explained.

"Have you been here long?" I inquired as I unpacked my belongings, her eyes following my movements intently.

"Born and raised on this land," she replied, observing me as I settled in. "If you ever need anything, just knock on the wall. I'm right next door."

The next day, as I prepared to teach my first class, she appeared once again.

"Hey, how's the class going?" she asked, her voice warm and encouraging.

"I'm getting the hang of it... sort of," I replied, glancing at my students who were engrossed in learning to play the flute.

"I don't think I caught your name yesterday. I'm Susan," she introduced herself, extending her calloused hand for me to shake.

"I-I'm Tammy," I stammered in reply.

We spent the entire summer together, though there were peculiar occurrences. I often felt as though I were being watched, and my attempts to befriend other counselors were met with dismissals.

But Susan was always there for me, a constant source of comfort.

Always.

However, as the summer progressed, my belongings began to mysteriously disappear. It started with my socks, then my journals, and eventually even my underwear. When I approached maintenance and housekeeping about it, Susan dismissed my concerns, attributing the missing items to mix-ups with the camp's belongings that she would rectify soon.

Despite the odd incidents, Susan and I grew even closer. But as the end of summer drew near, I returned to my room one day after tending to a sick child, only to notice Susan's door ajar. Something caught my eye—a journal peeking out from beneath her pillow, eerily similar to my own.

Driven by emotion rather than reason, I pushed the door open and snatched the journal, turning it over to confirm my suspicions—it was indeed mine.

Confusion swirled in my mind as I processed the unsettling discovery. I scanned Susan's room, searching for any explanation, then returned to my own to change before heading back to class. Surely, Susan had innocently stumbled upon my journal and intended to return it soon. Right?

But try as I might, I couldn't shake off the nagging doubts. Throughout the day, I struggled to make sense of the situation, but the pieces refused to fit together. Eventually, I trudged back to my room, only to find Susan waiting for me.

"Hey, I heard about the clothing mishap with the kid," she began, concern etched into her features. 

But her words seemed distant, drowned out by the queasiness churning in my stomach. She must have noticed the distress written all over my face.

"Are you okay?" she inquired, her voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just... the kid must have passed on something," I lied, brushing off her concern. Despite her attempts to convince me to visit the nurse, I insisted I could sleep it off.

Lying in bed, I attempted to drift off to sleep, but the voices outside my room disrupted any chance of rest.

"No... she couldn't... right?" a muffled voice whispered, the words drifting in and out of comprehension. I recognized it as Susan's voice.

"Nah, I saw that kid vomit. It was pretty nasty. And the nurse mentioned he had the flu. I mean, if a kid in my rock climbing class did that, I'd be out for a whole week," another voice replied.

Was that... was that Camilla, the girl who had snubbed me earlier?

Another voice murmured something, but by then, I was too exhausted to care. I attempted to drift off to sleep, but the creak of my door opening shattered any hope of rest. Heavy footsteps echoed through the room as someone approached my bed, their rough hand gingerly caressing my face.

"Not a fever..." Susan mumbled, her movements stirring up a sense of unease. Then, the sound of her rummaging through my belongings came to an abrupt halt.

"Son of a..." she muttered under her breath.

Had she discovered the journal I'd taken from her room? Panic surged through me as she abruptly left, slamming the door behind her. The following day, I avoided her like the plague until the campers departed for a bonfire. 

As I tidied up from my music class, the door closed behind me with a soft click.

"Tammy..." Susan's voice pierced the silence, drawing closer with each step.

Just hearing her say my name made my knees weak, but I mustered all the strength I had to remain composed.

"Uh, Susan... Hi," I greeted, busying myself with arranging the flutes, unable to meet her gaze.

"Wanna go to—" she began, but I cut her off before she could finish.

"Actually, I have something I need to do today," I interjected hastily.

"With who?" she inquired, prompting me to turn and face her.

"Oh... uh, I have to make a call to my aunt," I stammered.

"Well, you can use my phone," she offered, reaching into her pocket.

"Oh no, not yours," I declined quickly.

"Why not mine?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"It's nothing, I just need to use a different one," I muttered, hastily fabricating an excuse as she regarded me intently.

"Is there something you want to say?" she pressed, her tone insistent.

Now was the time for me to confront her, but fear held me back. She was twice my size, and I felt like a coward.

"Uh... why did I find my journal in your room?" I finally mustered the courage to ask, knowing she anticipated the question.

"Oh, I found it with the housekeeping staff and took it back. I was planning to return it to you," she explained calmly.

"Why were you in my room last night?" I continued, my apprehension mounting.

"You seemed unwell, so I wanted to check on you," she replied, slowly advancing towards me.

"But... I keep my door locked. How did you get in?"

"You must have forgotten—" she began, but I cut her off sharply.

"I didn't forget," I asserted.

"You're so sweet and nice... it's a shame your aunt doesn't see that," she remarked, her tone taking on a bitter edge.

Ouch.

"What do you mean?" I asked, taken aback.

"I'm just saying, I've read your journals, listened to you. I've done more for you than she has in her entire life," she continued, moving closer until her presence loomed over me. "And yet... you treat me worse than you've ever treated her."

My back pressed against the wall as I struggled to find my voice.

"In less than a week, you'll return to that life with her. The accusations, the anger, the fear... do you really want that?" she pressed, her gaze piercing.

I was rendered speechless.

"You can live with me, in my house built for us... no more aunt," she offered, her voice soft yet insistent.

"But... but I can't," I stuttered out, my mind reeling.

"Or maybe... maybe Auntie should see your journals," she suggested, and a cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach. "Oh yes, she'll see all the harsh and vicious words you've written down."

I stared at her in pure shock, feeling trapped and helpless.

Since then, I've been trapped in this eerie house. Its isolated location on a quiet street, enveloped by endless fields of corn and wheat, only adds to the ominous atmosphere.

Despite the ever-present threat hanging over me and the oppressive rules governing my existence, there are moments when I find myself strangely drawn to this place. She caters to my every need, providing for me in ways I never imagined.

But the thought of leaving feels like an impossible dream, a forbidden desire I dare not entertain. I am ensnared in her web, bound to this house by an invisible force that refuses to loosen its grip.

____________________

(A/N)

I have a new book out

Go read it, there will be updates on Mondays at 12:15 a.m. 

A bad summary of it is big mafia guy falls in love with a girl working at a hotel who wears roller skates