Chapter Text
I don’t even know who you are anymore
Maybe you never did
Never did
Never did
Those two words kept churning around in Jackie’s head as she desperately tried to recall every memory from the past thirteen years of her friendship with Shauna.
Jackie thought she knew everything about her.
They had been side by side—practically glued at the hip—through every moment, every day, every year, every milestone since kindergarten.
But her mind came up blank. She couldn’t remember when Shauna had begun to hate her.
How could Jackie have missed something? What had happened that made things go so wrong?
There should have been a moment. A sign. Something she could point to—a big, blinking red warning that said this is where it started. A moment where Shauna had internalised, carried with her, let take root and grow until it hardened into resentment.
Jackie had always done everything she could to protect Shauna—through school, through life. She was there when Shauna’s dad left, when her mom worked night shifts, when bullies or boys got too close. Which, in hindsight, maybe keeping her from boys had been a bit too possessive. But she had only ever wanted to keep Shauna from getting hurt.
Her stomach dropped.
Maybe Shauna was right. Maybe Jackie hadn’t thought enough about what Shauna wanted. Maybe that was what had made her feel like an extra in Jackie’s life instead of a person. But why would she never just say how she felt? Jackie thought bitterly. It was as if Shauna trusted her journal with her secrets more than she would ever trust her own best friend.
Jackie scoffed, unsuccessfully trying to hold back tears, as she marched deeper into the wilderness. She kicked at the rocks in her path, sending them skittering into the shrubs. Each one became a small, misplaced target for her anger—every kick laced with the illogical hope that it might make her feel a little better. A little less like her whole world had just ended.
But it made no difference.
She clenched her jaw as heat prickled under her skin.
Jackie had noticed that Shauna had gotten moodier as they became teenagers—then somehow even more once senior year started. But most of the time, that was just Shauna being Shauna. It was as much a part of her as the flannels, the journals, the way she observed everything around her.
Jackie stopped walking.
The thought hit her suddenly: it was also part of the many things she loved most about her.
She stood there, staring blankly ahead, letting the thought sit. Letting it exist. Letting herself taste it.
And then she tasted copper.
Jackie realised she was biting down hard on her lip, hard enough to draw blood. She shook her head as anger rose in her stomach and tears finally fell. She forced the thought away and started walking again, stomping through the forest with no direction in mind—just wherever her legs carried her.
She only knew one thing.
She wanted to be as far away from the cabin as possible.
Jackie was surprised by how quickly the sun was setting these days. They had figured it must be the start of fall—back home, rush week at the colleges would be starting around now. Still, the darkness crept up on her faster than she expected. She slowed her pace, moving more carefully through the forest, guided only by the last thin rays of sunlight filtering through the trees.
She regretted not paying attention, not thinking to look for anything familiar to help her find her bearings while she was on her warpath through the wilderness.
She stopped and scanned her surroundings, trying to see if there were any signs of danger—or anything she could use for shelter.
But the light was fading fast. All she could make out were trees and shrubs stretching on in every direction.
She suddenly realised she was shivering when she looked down and saw her letterman jacket trembling with her. Her fingers had gone stiff, the tip of her nose numb. Her socks were soaked through from trudging across the forest floor.
Jackie lifted her hand to the bridge of her nose, flinching at the icy shock when she touched it.
This is all Shauna’s fault, she thought bitterly.
And then, just as quickly, she turned the thought back on herself. Why did I ever think going off alone into the wilderness was a good idea?
Jackie walked over to a nearby rock and sighed. She lifted her hand, balled her fingers into a fist, and knocked it against her forehead.
Idiot. Idiot.
With another sigh, she unclenched her fist and pressed her hands to her temples as the thought crept in: if she died out here, she’d only be proving everyone back at the cabin right.
That she is useless.
Shauna’s words echo in her head. How tragic and boring and insecure you really are.
Part of her wanted to curl up and die right there. Another part of her wanted to live—if only to spite Shauna.
It felt like a battle between the two voices, and Jackie wasn’t sure which one would win. Survival had started to feel impossible after Laura Lee died.
Death felt inevitable now. Like they weren’t avoiding it at all—just delaying it.
Jackie watched the last scraps of daylight vanish beneath the forest shadows, the world around her sinking into darkness.
Once the light was gone, every sound felt amplified. Jackie found herself listening harder, flinching at noises she couldn’t place. Tangible danger seemed to lurk around every corner.
She told herself it was just her mind, conjuring threats where there were none. But the feeling lingered—of being watched, of something moving closer with every snapped twig, always just out of sight.
A twig snapped behind her.
That was when Jackie realised, she didn’t want to die today. Not like this. Not torn apart by whatever might be lurking in the bushes.
She jumped to her feet and started running in the direction she had only a vague idea the cabin might be. Branches lashed at her face, her boots slipping on mud, but she didn’t slow down. Jackie didn’t even know if she was running the right way. Nothing mattered except putting as much distance as possible between herself and whatever was out there.
Fear tightens her chest. The trees blur at the edges, her pulse roaring so loudly she can barely hear her own footsteps. All she can do is run.
It was only when Jackie thought she had put as much space as possible between herself and whatever was chasing her that she looked back over her shoulder for a few too many seconds.
Jackie didn’t see the root until it was too late.
Her foot caught and twisted—and then she was face down in the dirt. She hit hard. Instinctively, she threw her hands out to break the fall, but her wrists and knee took the brunt of it, slamming into the solid earth and knocking the air from her lungs. Pain flared sharp and immediate, bright enough to make her gasp.
She rolled onto her side, sucking in shallow breaths, her hands clawing at the damp earth. Her knee throbbed fiercely now, heat blooming beneath the skin.
“Shit,” she hissed, blinking back tears.
She tried to push herself up.
The pain answered instantly, white-hot and unforgiving, and her leg buckled beneath her. Jackie cried out before she could stop herself, the sound tearing out of her and vanishing into the trees.
For a moment, she lay there, frozen still in sheer fear, heart hammering, listening to every sound around her. Praying that whatever had been following her hadn’t noticed she’d fallen. Worse, that it hadn’t realised she was injured.
She tried to stay quiet, but her heart was pounding against her ribs and heavy breaths kept slipping past her lips. In the cold air, she could see each breath bloom in front of her as she strained to listen for anything that might be moving nearby.
After a few minutes, Jackie began to realise that whatever she thought was chasing her had either lost her—or lost interest. As if it had been preying on her hopelessness.
Once she realised the danger had passed, Jackie tried to push herself up to see where she was—but the moment she put weight on her knee or her wrists, pain shot through her and sent her back down onto the forest floor.
Jackie knew she couldn’t just stay there. She needed to find shelter or find her way back to the cabin. She tried to get up again, but every time she leaned the wrong way, pain flared through her wrist or her knee. She adjusted clumsily, bracing on her other knee, her movements slow and uneven as she tried to move on her non-dominant side.
She managed only a few steps before her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the forest floor. She tried again. The same result—back on the ground, her body betraying her, breathless and in agony.
She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, on the rise and fall of her chest.
When she opened her eyes again, Jackie realised it had begun to snow. Not light flurries, but heavy sheets of it. The forest fell into an eerie silence—not just the quiet of night, but the deeper hush that snow brings, as if sound itself had been swallowed.
Panic begins to creep in.
She has no shelter. She can’t walk. She doesn’t know where she is. She’s injured and alone.
She hoped she’d been right about the direction she’d run—that somehow, she’d ended up close to the cabin. Close enough that Natalie or Travis might find her on their way back from the evening hunt.
Jackie tried to shout for help—only once, maybe twice—until her throat burned and the sound came out thin and broken. The word felt wrong in her mouth, too small for the dark around her. She stopped, swallowing hard, listening to the silence close back in.
She wasn’t sure how long she lay there. Minutes, maybe longer. Her thoughts began to blur, looping and losing their edges.
Her breaths slowed, then hitched again as the cold crept deeper into her bones. Snow gathered on her jacket, melting slowly into the fabric.
Half-conscious, Jackie thought that maybe if she could get beneath one of the trees, it might keep some of the snow off her and maybe someone will find her there. She began to drag herself toward the nearest trunk, inching through the snow on her elbows, each movement slow and exhausting.
Her arms gave out before she reached the tree.
When she first felt herself being pulled along, Jackie thought the animal was back—to drag her off to its den and finish what it started.
It wasn’t until two familiar voices cut through the pain that she realised she wasn’t in danger at all.
She was being saved.