? |DREAMS TO REALITY| ? [SCHOOLBUSGRAVEYARD X READER]

|| S2 || CHAPTER 48 - Endless Loops

Tirana shrugged. "Whatever you want. 抖阴社区, draw, scribble, rip out pages-doesn't matter. Just... if your thoughts get too heavy, maybe putting them somewhere will help."

Y/N stared at the journal. The cover was smooth under her fingertips. Light, but solid.

She didn't say anything.

But for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like she had to.

JOURNAL ENTRY ##

Dear... Myself.

I don't really know how to start this. I don't even know why I'm writing at all. Tirana said it might help, but honestly, the idea of talking to paper feels kind of stupid. Still... I guess it's easier than saying these things out loud. Easier than trying to make sense of them when my own head is loud enough as it is.

I think I've spent so long convincing myself that I don't need people that I started to believe it. Like, if I just keep my head down, focus on myself, and stay out of the way, nothing can hurt me. But lately, I'm not so sure.

Friendship, real friendship, has always felt like something that belongs to other people. I watch them laugh, talk, lean on each other like it's second nature, and I don't get it. How do they do that? How do they just trust that the people around them won't disappear, won't hurt them, won't change into someone unrecognizable? I don't know how to believe in something so fragile.

For as long as I can remember, I've been the outsider. Not because anyone forced me there, but because I put myself there. It was safer. Loneliness hurts, yeah, but it's a pain I can predict. It doesn't sneak up on you. It doesn't promise warmth and then vanish when you need it most.

I think that's why I keep people at a distance. Because the closer they get, the more power they have to hurt me. And I don't know if I can handle that again.

But the thing is... I'm starting to wonder if maybe I'm hurting myself by trying to avoid it. Maybe I've been so busy protecting myself that I never realized I was building a cage instead of a shield. And now, I don't know how to step outside of it.

The worst part? I want to.

I want to be able to trust. I want to believe that not everyone leaves. That not every connection is just another countdown to disappointment. But wanting something and knowing how to get it are two completely different things. And right now, I have no idea where to start.

I guess that's why I'm here. Writing this. Trying to figure it out.

So... here's to trying. Whatever that means.

[##/##/2016]

"ASHLYN, GO BACK!" Taylor's voice cracked with raw panic, desperation lacing each word. She tugged frantically against Ben's unyielding grip, her body trembling as if she could physically fight her way free.

"WE WILL-BUT WE HAVE TO SURVIVE THIS FIRST!" Ashlyn's voice was fierce, a controlled urgency. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles had turned ghostly white. The Jeep hurtled down the deserted street, tires screeching as if they could sense the danger in the air. Aiden sat beside her, his body tense, eyes flicking between Ashlyn's determined face and the road, his mind racing. The silence of the empty street was suffocating, and every second they didn't get away was another moment closer to the inevitable.

Behind them, the phantom's presence grew stronger, an overwhelming force that seemed to press in from all sides. It wasn't just a feeling-it was a weight in the air, thick and suffocating, a reminder that whatever they were running from was gaining on them, growing more powerful with each passing second.

Logan's heart pounded as he turned to Y/N, his breath catching when he saw her slumped against him. Her body was unnervingly still, like a ragdoll, and her face was deathly pale. Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one more erratic than the last. "Y/N... snap out of it," Logan's voice trembled, barely more than a whisper. His hand rested gently on her shoulder, trying to shake her from her stupor, but his gaze kept flicking toward the road ahead, his mind racing. The phantom was closing in, the air around them heavy with its presence, the ground rumbling beneath their feet, every second feeling like it might be their last.

His mind raced, struggling to latch onto any idea, any way out of this nightmare. But the sight of the phantom growing nearer, its outline sharp and unnatural against the darkening sky, left him paralyzed. Every passing second felt like a cruel reminder that they were running out of time.

...

Nothing had changed.

The weight of fate felt suffocating-always there, always pulling, never letting her go. It clung to her, a constant shadow, a heavy cloak she could never shake off, no matter how far she ran. She'd spent years trying to outrun it, fighting against the current of life, but it was always two steps ahead. She could scream, beg, fight—but the universe never listened. It never cared.

Exhaustion settled deep into her bones, a weariness that made every step feel heavier. It wasn't just physical—her heart, her spirit, had been worn thin. She had built herself up, piece by piece, over and over again, only to watch it all crumble. Time after time, everything fell apart.

But giving up? That was a kind of death she wasn't willing to embrace. Not yet.

Sometimes it was bearable, just a dull ache she could ignore. But other times... the pain was unbearable. A crushing weight in her chest, the kind that left her gasping for air.

She had given everything. Her time, her love, her energy. And yet, nothing had changed. It felt like she was chasing after something—a dream, a hope—that was always just out of reach. The world kept moving forward, taking from her, demanding more. And she had nothing left to give, but still, she ran.

Maybe this was what fate wanted from her. Maybe this was her purpose: to keep breaking, to keep falling, until there was nothing left. Maybe suffering was the price of being alive. Maybe her whole existence was nothing more than a cycle of pain.

Her mind flickered to Tyler, that ache in her chest intensifying. Could she have loved him better, been more open, expressed her feelings? Every shared moment, every quiet conversation, slipped away like sand through her fingers, leaving only the sting of regret. Words she never said, feelings she never expressed, all trapped inside her, never reaching him. And now, the silence between them felt like a permanent void.

"Y/N!" Logan's voice sliced through the fog in her mind, sharp and insistent, a lifeline in the dark.

His voice anchored her, pulling her back from the edge. When she finally turned toward him, the world around her was still a distorted blur, like trying to focus through thick glass. She could make out the way his blue eyes gleamed behind his glasses—wide with worry—and the tense furrow of his brow, like he was on the verge of breaking down.

Her body felt wrong—heavy, uncooperative—as though she were moving through water, slow and unnatural.

She turned her head back, forcing her eyes to focus. And then she saw it. Not just one shadow, but two. Their massive, faceless forms loomed in the darkness, pulsing like living nightmares. The ground beneath her seemed to tremble with the weight of their presence. The air around them was thick, suffocating, as if their mere existence threatened to crush her lungs.

Then, with a violent jerk, the Jeep veered off the road. Ashlyn's knuckles turned white as she fought the wheel, the tires screaming in protest as they skidded across the pavement. A hideous screech of metal against metal filled the air as the vehicle fishtailed uncontrollably. Aiden braced himself, gripping the door with white-knuckled desperation, but it was futile—the world spun wildly, the horizon tilting as the ground seemed to drop away beneath them, pulling them deeper into chaos.

The impact was sudden, violent. There was no warning.

The sickening crunch of metal was followed by the horrific, grinding groan of the vehicle twisting in on itself. Ben and Taylor were thrown forward, their bodies slamming violently into the front seats. Y/N was hurled backward into the trunk wall with bone-shattering force. Pain exploded across her skull—sharp, blinding, searing through her like wildfire, every nerve screaming in protest.

And then—nothing.

Tyler?