"The Forest of Evermore"
They say that a long time ago, a child asked for a toy because of how beautiful it was. Not just any toy—a doll made from the wood of a tree that never withers, with eyes of stone that glowed at night, and hair that looked like it had been brushed by the wind of the forest.
The old man gave in after the child kept insisting, but only in exchange for something.
"Take care of it," the old man said. "Don't leave it. Don't ever let it be damaged."
But like many children, Aga was excited at first, then quickly got bored. One night, under the sparkling moon, he left the doll to chase fireflies.
When he returned, the doll was broken. One leg was twisted. One eye was shattered.
Aga didn't feel scared. He just threw it away somewhere.
"There are better toys than that anyway!"
The old man was furious at the child's carelessness.
The next day, Aga disappeared. No one ever saw him again.
But some say that deep in the forest, in places people no longer tread, there is a child crying in the dark, watched over by a broken, ruined doll—no longer beautiful—while he slowly turns into wood, just like it.
And anyone who refuses their duty, anyone who runs away, will be hunted by the shadow looking for a replacement.
---
"Naia, can I borrow your hairbrush—the one in the pink pouch," said Ate Amaris, rushing to fix herself in front of the mirror.
She was wearing a plain white dress that seemed too formal for just going out. She said she was just visiting a friend. She acted like it was nothing.
"You're so extra, Ate. You look like you're going to a baptism," I teased while I was still washing my face.
"We have a photoshoot. Theme is... forest fairy or something," she answered with a wink. "Gotta look presentable. Needs to be aesthetic."
"Forest fairy?" I raised an eyebrow. "Which park is that? You don't even like the woods."
"Secret," she said with a grin like she was hiding something. "I just tagged along with a friend. She said it's a hidden spot. Looks great on camera."
"Wait... where exactly again?"
"At the back of the old trail... you know, the one that leads to the fields at the end of the barangay?" She leaned in, whispering like it was a secret mission. "There's apparently a path further in. I'm not sure if it's legit."
My heart skipped a beat.
"Ate... wasn't that trail closed already?" I asked with a frown. "And it's dangerous."
"Yeah, but there's a hole in the fence. Chill. I won't be long."
"Are you sure—"
She cut me off, "If I go missing, come look for me, okay?" she joked, tossing the brush, which hit me in the forehead.
She laughed as I held my head. "You're just eloping with your foreign boyfriend!"
"Come back soon, okay?" I said with a worried frown.
"Of course. I'd never leave you, little sis."
She laughed, waved, and then she was gone.
That was it.
No follow-up text. No update. No "I'm on my way home." No "I'm outside."
No "Naia?"
That was the last time I saw her.
"Do you want to talk about Amaris?"
The question floated in the quiet room, cold, emotionless.
I looked down at the floor.
Over and over again. Same thing every time. Like everyone around me is stuck in a loop—the same question, the same tone, the same way they stare at me like they're waiting for me to break.
Miss Dela Peña raised an eyebrow. She didn't look frustrated, but it was clear she was used to this—kids who didn't want to talk, kids tired of explaining themselves.
"Naia?" she called again.
I still didn't answer.
Inside, I wanted to scream the truth, but what's the point?
If I speak, they'll just think I'm crazier.
If I stay silent, it's like I'm admitting they're right.
"It's been a long time since she disappeared, right?"
I looked up. For a moment, I saw my reflection in the glass of her cabinet. Red eyes, messy hair, trembling lips. Do I look insane? Do I look like someone who made up a sister?
Miss Dela Peña sighed. She tried to keep her voice gentle, like she was trying to comfort a scared child.
"I just want to help," she added.
I smiled. Small, fake.
I wanted to laugh at the irony. Weren't they the ones who wanted me to forget Amaris?
Weren't they the ones who first told me she wasn't real?
I took a deep breath, slow and steady.
"You said she's not real."
Miss Dela Peña fell silent.
For a moment, a heavy silence sat between us. She didn't know how to respond, because what else was there to say?
Whatever explanation she gave wouldn't change the truth:
Amaris is still calling me.
When I stepped out of the therapy room, the noise hit me.
But not just the usual noise.
It wasn't just students laughing or the sound of shoes on the hallway floor.
It was a different kind of noise—quieter, more secretive, heavier.
Whispers.
"That's the crazy girl, right?"
"She used to be something. I don't really know what happened."
"Imaginary sister. God."
"I guess it's true that smart people lose it faster."
"Good thing I'm dumb!"
I wanted to laugh.
It's so easy for them to say. So easy to make it a joke. So easy to talk like I'm not even here.
Aren't they scared?
If the world can erase a person... what if they're next?
I looked down, turned my music up loud.
But it won't help.
I know that no matter how loud the song is in my ears, I can still hear them.
And worse, I can still hear my own thoughts.
Back then, things weren't like this. Back then, someone used to laugh with me.
But now, there's no one.
It's just me. And people who don't remember Amaris.
Trust me. Amaris is real. I'm not crazy.
When I opened my eyes, Amaris was just... gone. I don't know if people are pranking me. If I'm just dreaming and can't wake up.
There's no sound of her alarm. No rustling from her moving in bed. No voice teasing me to get up.
The house is quiet. Too quiet.
Like... there's really no one here.
I touched her pillow—it still smelled like her perfume, that old book and vanilla scent.
I stood up and looked around.
But her stuff was gone.
Like she never slept there.
Like she never lived here.
A memory came back.
"I should've been gone a long time ago, right?"
She smiled weakly then. Not really happy.
"Nothing."
But now I'm forcing myself to remember how she laughed.
Like... there was sadness in it.
Like she wanted to say something, but didn't.
And until now, I can't remember what the last thing she whispered to me was.
"Stop it already, Naia," Mama snapped at me.
"I can't," I answered.
"What are you trying to prove?! You don't have a sister. There is no Amaris."
My world crashed.
It felt like something exploded in my head.
"You're lying."
My tears were falling as I saw Mama looking lost, like she didn't know what to do with me anymore. "What happened to you, my child?"
CRACK.
The glass fell to the floor.
Mama didn't say anything.
She quietly cleaned up the shards.
She quietly locked her bedroom door.
And I was left alone again.
I felt something pulsing in my head. Anger? Frustration? Fear?
I don't know.
But one thing is certain:
The truth is getting harder to see.
I'm struggling, but I won't give up. Amaris is real. My sister is real. I need to find out what happened. Why am I the only one who remembers? Am I really crazy?
I can't help but think about everything. It's impossible. If it's a dream, I want to wake up. I won't accept this as real.
I pinched myself to check. Lightly.
I could feel it.
Then I slapped myself hard. It hurt. I'm not dreaming.
I looked at the old picture of me and Amaris—only I can see it. Tears welled up as I stared at it.
My brow furrowed when I noticed something.
"Naia... it's beautiful here, come follow..."
My heart pounded. No, it can't be.
Six o'clock.
Dusk.
I walked toward the forest to clear my head.
I ran my hand over the old iron fence—cold, rusty.
And in a corner of the wire fence, I saw something hanging.
An old ribbon. Bright red.
I knew it instantly.
It was Amaris' favorite ribbon. It's very possible she's calling me.
And behind all the wind, the rustling, the cold twilight, I heard something faint, almost unreal.
Someone calling my name.
"Naia."
No, it's just in my head. Maybe they're right. Maybe I've gone crazy. Maybe I'm just making it harder for myself and for the people around me. Maybe I just can't let go of what happened years ago—things I can barely remember.
Like if I just let go of Amaris, everything would go back to normal.
But no...
I can't let go.
Because no matter how much they bury her memory—no matter how much they erase her existence—she's still here.
She's still calling me.