webnovel

teens and college

journey of a girl throughout her college life. how she made memories found love got broke made real friends and survived in every situation. and made it to the end

misslost ยท Teen
Not enough ratings
20 Chs

Shadows of Obsession: Unraveling the Enigma

"๐•บ๐–‡๐–˜๐–Š๐–˜๐–˜๐–Ž๐–”๐–“ ๐–Ž๐–˜ ๐–™๐–๐–Š ๐–˜๐–Ž๐–“๐–Œ๐–‘๐–Š ๐–’๐–”๐–˜๐–™ ๐–œ๐–†๐–˜๐–™๐–Š๐–‹๐–š๐–‘ ๐–๐–š๐–’๐–†๐–“ ๐–†๐–ˆ๐–™๐–Ž๐–›๐–Ž๐–™๐–ž ๐–‡๐–Š๐–ˆ๐–†๐–š๐–˜๐–Š ๐–œ๐–Ž๐–™๐– ๐–†๐–“ ๐–”๐–‡๐–˜๐–Š๐–˜๐–˜๐–Ž๐–”๐–“ ๐–ž๐–”๐–š ๐–๐–Š๐–Š๐–• ๐–ˆ๐–”๐–’๐–Ž๐–“๐–Œ ๐–‡๐–†๐–ˆ๐– ๐–†๐–“๐–‰ ๐–‡๐–†๐–ˆ๐– ๐–†๐–“๐–‰ ๐–‡๐–†๐–ˆ๐– ๐–™๐–” ๐–™๐–๐–Š ๐–˜๐–†๐–’๐–Š ๐––๐–š๐–Š๐–˜๐–™๐–Ž๐–”๐–“ ๐–†๐–“๐–‰ ๐–“๐–Š๐–›๐–Š๐–— ๐–Œ๐–Š๐–™ ๐–†๐–“ ๐–†๐–“๐–˜๐–œ๐–Š๐–—." โ€” ๐•น๐–”๐–—๐–’๐–†๐–“ ๐•ธ๐–†๐–Ž๐–‘๐–Š๐–—

she was,

obsessed.

and I was,

surprised

this was an obsession. I know this lazy girl who could not stand still until she gets a long nap after going home from college. and the surprised was just handwriting like her standard is so low Man people fall for looks some fall for money some fall for both but this girl fell for handwriting.

whatever it was I wanted to be with her on it not only for her sake. it was something any normal teenage college girl would find interest in. It's all about teenage, this age makes young do a lot of mistakes and what I think is who don't make mistakes in their teenage make mistakes for the rest of their lives. for rising falling was important and that was something coming for us. FALL!

-

-

I put done my phone after reading zara s message and a minute later my phone was again in my hand with an evil smile on my face. as if I found something as if a solution was made after some hours of hard work I had a fake account on my Instagram I was ready to scam someone. nothing more I did that day instead of overthinking and predicting stuff I can do using that fake account. I thought reached my mind if I was being evil this year but who cares I have also been a really good and obedient kid a little change is important don't you think?

the next day

Zara's eyes widened with excitement as she listened to the plan. "That sounds adventurous, but are you sure about this, umber?" she asked, a hint of hesitation in her voice.

I shrugged, trying to hide my own uncertainty. "Well, we can't just sit around and wonder forever, right? Besides, it's just a little detective work. We won't do anything harmful; we'll just gather some information."

With a newfound determination, we set out on our mission. The first step was to create the fake Instagram account. We chose the name "SleuthSeeker" to maintain some semblance of mystery. The profile picture was a magnifying glass, representing our search for answers.

Next, we had to make the account seem authentic. We uploaded a few random photos and followed a few popular accounts to make it look like a real person's profile. We didn't want to raise any suspicions.

Once the account was ready, we began scouting for clues. We joined various college groups and forums, hoping to come across any mention of the mysterious man. Our cover story was that SleuthSeeker was a freshman interested in making new friends.

Days turned into weeks, and we scrolled through countless posts and profiles, but there was no sign of the person we sought. Doubts began to creep in, and I questioned whether we were wasting our time.

One afternoon, Zara exclaimed, "Wait, umber, look at this! Someone mentioned a secret art club in one of the posts."

My heart skipped a beat. This could be a lead. We decided to dig deeper into the art club. Our efforts led us to a website that seemed like an exclusive community for art enthusiasts. The catch was, to gain access, one needed to submit a sample of their artwork.

Zara's eyes lit up with an idea. "I've always loved drawing. What if I submit my artwork to join the club? Maybe that's where this mysterious man hangs out."

I nodded in agreement. It was a risky move, but it might be our only chance to get closer to our goal. Zara worked tirelessly on her submission piece, pouring her heart and soul into it.

Several days later, we received an email from the art club. Zara had been accepted! The email provided details about the club's upcoming exhibition where members could showcase their art.

The night of the art exhibition finally arrived, filling the air with an aura of excitement and creativity. Zara and I, dressed in our most elegant attire, made our way to the grand venue with anticipation dancing in our hearts.

As we entered the gallery, our senses were immediately overwhelmed by the beauty and diversity of the artwork on display. Paintings adorned the walls, sculptures stood majestically in the corners, and installations captivated viewers with their ingenuity. The atmosphere was charged with artistic energy, and we felt a sense of belonging among fellow art enthusiasts.

Zara's artwork, her beautiful portrait, was exhibited prominently, garnering admiration from the attendees. We couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as we witnessed the impact her creation had on others.

Throughout the evening, we mingled with various artists and art enthusiasts, engaging in conversations about the pieces and the inspiration behind them. However, despite our efforts, no one seemed to know anything about the mysterious man we were seeking.

As the night progressed, a sense of regret began to gnaw at us. The glittering event had initially sparked our curiosity, but now we couldn't help but question our decision to dive into this mysterious pursuit.

"umber, I can't shake off this feeling of unease," Zara whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the buzz of the crowd. "Maybe we shouldn't have gotten involved in all this. It feels like we're in over our heads."

Her words echoed my own inner thoughts, and I too felt a tinge of regret gnawing at me. The allure of the enigma that surrounded the mysterious man had drawn us in, but now we were beginning to realize that we might be in too deep.

"I know what you mean, Zara," I replied, trying to hide my own uncertainty. "This event is impressive, but there's something unsettling about it. It's like we've stumbled into a world that we don't fully understand."

Zara nodded, her eyes filled with confusion and conflict. "Part of me wants to leave and forget about all of this, but another part of me can't let go. I need to know who this mysterious man is and why his art has such a profound effect on people."

I understood her dilemma, as I shared the same conflicting emotions. Our curiosity had driven us this far, and a part of us was eager to solve the enigma. Yet, the more we delved into this mysterious world, the more we felt a growing sense of unease.

As we continued to navigate the art exhibition, we found ourselves torn between staying and leaving. The glamour and allure of the event were juxtaposed with the unsettling feeling of being out of our depth.

But despite our regrets and confusion, our curiosity prevailed. There was an inexplicable draw to unraveling the mystery behind the mysterious man and his enigmatic art. We couldn't simply walk away without answers.

With determined resolve, we decided to stay a little longer, hoping that amidst the beauty and intrigue, we might stumble upon a clue or encounter someone who could shed light on the mysterious artist.

As the night wore on, the enigma of the art exhibition deepened, leaving us both intrigued and bewildered. The allure of the unknown and the desire for answers kept us anchored to the event, even as uncertainty lingered in our hearts.

Little did we know that our decision to stay would lead us down a winding path of discovery, where the lines between curiosity and regret would blur, and the true nature of obsession and art would be put to the test. Our pursuit of the enigmatic artist would challenge not only our understanding of the mysterious man but also our own perceptions and beliefs about the power of creativity and the depths of human curiosity.

As the night progressed at the art exhibition, Zara and I continued our quest to find any information about the mysterious man we were seeking. However, no matter how many conversations we struck up, no one seemed to have any knowledge of him. It was as if he were a phantom, leaving no traces in the art world.

Frustration began to mingle with our curiosity, and doubts started to creep in. Were we chasing after a mere illusion? Were we being drawn into a wild goose chase?

Amidst the crowd, we overheard whispers about another mysterious man. This one, however, had a completely different reputation. The rumors spoke of a recluse, an enigmatic figure whose presence invoked a sense of foreboding and discomfort in those who crossed his path.

Curiosity got the better of us, and we couldn't resist investigating this new enigma. It felt like an entirely different puzzle, and the contrast intrigued us. With caution in our hearts, we followed the rumors to a dimly lit corner of the gallery.

There he stood, a man cloaked in darkness, his face obscured by shadows. And as our eyes met, realization struck me like a lightning boltโ€”it was the same man from that fateful movie night. The man who had attempted to harm Zara.

My heart pounded in my chest, and anger surged within me. Why was he here? What was he doing in the art world, masquerading as a mysterious artist?

Zara's eyes widened, and she took a step back, her body tensing with unease. She recognized him too.

"It's him," she whispered, her voice trembling. "umber, it's the same man who tried to hurt me that night. I can't believe he's here."

My mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Why would someone who had tried to harm Zara be pretending to be an artist at an art exhibition? Was he seeking some kind of twisted redemption, or was there a darker motive at play?

As if sensing our discomfort, the man gave us a chilling smileโ€”the same sinister smile I remembered from that night. It sent a shiver down my spine.

"I see you two have found your way to my little world of art," he said, his voice smooth and unsettling. "You must be intrigued by my creations."

Zara's grip on my arm tightened, and I could see the conflict in her eyes. Fear and anger warred within her as she stared at the man she despised.

"What do you want from us?" she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

He chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving Zara's. "I'm merely expressing myself through my art. It's a shame that some people misunderstand my intentions."

The man's words were laced with a hidden menace, and I felt a surge of protectiveness towards Zara. We needed to get away from him, but we also needed answers.

"Let's go," I whispered to Zara, pulling her gently away from the unsettling figure. "We don't need to be here."

As we made our way through the crowd, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched. The man's eyes seemed to follow us even as we moved away.

Outside the gallery, Zara let out a shaky breath. "I can't believe he's here, umber. This is too much."

"I know," I replied, trying to steady my own emotions. "We need to be careful. There's something strange about him, and I don't trust his intentions."

Zara nodded, her fear mingling with a determination I had come to admire in her. "We can't let him stop us, umber. We need to find out what he's up to, even if it means facing our fears."

And so, with a newfound sense of vigilance and resolve, we decided to continue our pursuit. We would be cautious and stay one step ahead of the enigmatic man who had now resurfaced in our lives. Our journey to uncover the truth about the mysterious artist and the man Zara hated would take us deeper into a web of secrets and danger, where the boundaries between art and malevolence blurred, and our friendship would be tested like never before.