This is my Fate

The fluorescent lights above cast a dull hum over the nearly empty diner, blending with the soft murmur of a few lingering customers. The clock on the wall ticked louder now that the dinner rush had passed, each second dragging Lena closer to the end of her shift. She leaned against the counter, idly rubbing a smudge off a laminated menu with fingers that felt as tired as the rest of her.

"Here you go, hon." She slid a plate of pie in front of an elderly regular, her voice warm and kind, despite the exhaustion pressing at the edges. "It's on the house tonight."

"You're too good, Lena," the man replied with a faint smile.

"Kindness doesn't cost a thing," she murmured, almost to herself, before disappearing into the kitchen.

Behind the counter, her reflection in the stainless-steel backsplash caught her attention. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, loose strands of hair escaped her ponytail, and faint smears of flour clung to her sleeves. She was only 26, but the weight of her days made her feel much older.

When her shift ended, Lena slipped into her worn-out coat and glanced toward the back booth. There sat her younger sister, Lizzy, lost in her sketchbook, pencil moving furiously across the page. Lizzy's face glowed with focus and passion, her entire world contained within the lines she drew.

"Time to go, Liz," Lena called.

"Just one more minute!" Lizzy said, not looking up.

Lena sighed but couldn't help a small smile. Lizzy's dreams-big, bold, and so alive-were a spark in Lena's otherwise routine life. Her sister was everything Lena wasn't: full of hope, creativity, and the fearless belief that the world outside their small town was waiting for her.

As they walked home, Lizzy chatted about her latest creation-a dress inspired by the fiery sunsets they watched from their porch. But Lena's mind wandered, each step feeling heavier than the last. A single thought gnawed at her, as it did every night: Is this all there is for me?

"Are you even listening?" Lizzy nudged her.

"Sorry, kiddo. It's been a long day," Lena replied, forcing a smile.

"One day, when I'm designing for the big names in New York, you won't have to work long shifts anymore," Lizzy said confidently. Her unwavering belief in herself made Lena feel equal parts proud and envious.

Back at home, Lena set her keys on the chipped kitchen counter and started a pot of tea. The house was quiet-too quiet, as if it had resigned itself to the same monotonous fate Lena often felt trapped in. Lizzy clattered upstairs, her footsteps fading into the stillness.

Sitting at the small kitchen table, Lena dropped her head into her hands. She wanted more. More than the diner, more than this tiny town, more than the relentless predictability of her life. But wanting didn't pay bills, and it wouldn't fix the leaking roof.

"Lena! Can you come here?" Lizzy's voice drifted down the stairs, pulling Lena from her thoughts.

"What is it?" Lena called back, but there was no answer.

Frowning, she climbed the stairs, her steps echoing in the silence. Lizzy's door was slightly open, and when Lena pushed it the rest of the way, her heart stopped.

The room was empty. The window was wide open, its curtains swaying in the chilly night breeze. Lizzy's sketchbook lay abandoned on the bed, its pages fluttering like trapped birds.

"Lizzy?" Lena's voice wavered as she rushed to the window, scanning the street below. It was empty, save for the faint rustle of bushes.

Without thinking, Lena tore down the stairs and burst through the front door. Her breath clouded the cold air as she called out, "Lizzy!"

A shadow darted through the trees at the edge of their yard. Heart pounding, Lena ran after it, her coat snagging on branches.

"Lizzy, this isn't funny!" she yelled, her voice breaking.

She stumbled into a small clearing and froze. Lizzy stood there, her back to Lena, staring at something hidden in the shadows.

"Lizzy, what are you doing out here?" Lena asked, stepping closer.

Slowly, Lizzy turned to face her. Her eyes were wide, her face pale. "Lena... someone was watching us."

"Who? What are you talking about?"

Before Lizzy could answer, a twig snapped nearby. Lena spun toward the sound, her pulse racing.

"Come on," she said, grabbing Lizzy's hand. "We're going inside."

But as they turned, something caught Lena's eye: an envelope pinned to a tree with a rusted nail. The edges were worn and yellowed, as if it had been waiting there for years.

"What's that?" Lizzy whispered.

Lena hesitated, then pulled the envelope from the tree. Scrawled across the front in shaky handwriting was a single word: Lena.

Her hands trembled as she opened it, revealing a single sheet of paper inside. The message was brief, but it sent chills down her spine:

You don't know who you are, but they do. Don't trust anyone.

Lena's vision blurred as the words sank in. Who had written this? What did it mean?

"Lena?" Lizzy's voice was barely audible.

Swallowing her fear, Lena stuffed the note into her pocket. "Let's go."

Back inside, she locked every door and window, her hands shaking. Lizzy curled up on the couch, pulling her knees to her chest.

"What's going on, Lena?" Lizzy asked.

"I don't know," Lena admitted. But as she looked at her sister-her entire world-she silently vowed to protect her, no matter what. She just didn't know what, or who, she was up against.

That night, sleep didn't come easily. The note lay hidden under Lena's pillow, its warning echoing in her mind.

When she finally drifted off, it was only to wake with a start. The creak of footsteps outside her bedroom door shattered the silence.

"Lizzy?" she whispered, but the only response was the deafening stillness.

Then, the door began to creak open.