Tallahassee, USA
6:30 p.m., August 15, 2010
After spending the entire afternoon at football practice for the preseason, Jason walked home alongside Todd and the other players on the team.
Although no one had told him anything directly, he was not naive.
He knew they were planning something for his birthday.
The suspicious smiles, the conversations that stopped whenever he approached, and the sudden disappearance of several people throughout the day made it obvious.
Jason had tried to tell them he did not need a surprise party.
No one had listened.
“I bet your mom is going to cry when you open your presents,” one of the players commented.
“I bet she’s already crying,” Todd replied.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
The group laughed.
Their conversation continued for several more minutes as they made their way through the neighborhood’s quiet streets.
Then something changed.
Jason did not notice it immediately.
At first, it was merely a strange feeling.
A sense of unease he could not explain.
His gaze swept over the street ahead.
Todd and the others were walking several yards in front of him, discussing the next game of the season.
But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
The street was silent.
Too silent.
Not a single dog barked.
No televisions could be heard through the open windows.
No cars passed by.
There was not even the sound of children playing.
Only the distant voices of his friends.
Jason slowed his pace.
The discomfort intensified.
It was a feeling he could not identify.
It was not fear.
Not exactly.
It was more like an instinct.
A silent voice somewhere in the back of his mind telling him that something was wrong.
Very wrong.
A shiver ran down his spine.
It was not caused by the wind.
It was not caused by the cold.
It was a primal sensation.
The same kind of warning an animal might feel after sensing the presence of a predator.
Jason stopped.
His eyes slowly moved over the houses.
The trees.
The sidewalks.
Everything looked normal.
And yet nothing felt right.
“Jason?”
Todd’s voice came from several yards ahead.
He had noticed Jason’s sudden stop.
“Hey, man!
What’s wrong?”
Jason blinked.
It was as though he had awakened from a trance.
The sound of their conversations filled his ears once again.
The world seemed to regain some of its normalcy.
“Nothing,” Jason replied, quickening his pace to catch up with them.
But as he walked, he could not stop himself from glancing toward the end of the street one more time.
And for the first time that day, he felt an uneasiness he could not explain.
When Jason finally arrived home, he found all the lights turned off.
His group of friends was not remotely subtle when they allowed him to take the lead and open the front door alone.
“You’re terrible conspirators,” he commented, drawing a few nervous laughs.
Even so, he placed his hand on the doorknob and opened the door.
“SURPRISE!”
The lights came on all at once.
Jason was greeted by an explosion of voices, laughter, and applause.
Even though he already knew what was coming, he decided to play along.
“Wow!
I really wasn’t expecting this!” he exclaimed, pretending to be surprised.
“Liar!” Todd shouted from the back of the room.
The laughter grew louder.
Among the guests were Heather and the other cheerleaders, Melody, his friends from the Scouts, and some of his closest classmates.
His parents had deliberately gone out so that he could have a typical teenage party.
Without alcohol, of course.
And with a set time for the party to end.
After all, Robert and Jennifer were still responsible parents.
Most of the celebration took place around the pool.
For hours, the group talked, swam, played games, and enjoyed the last days of summer before the official start of the school year.
As usual, Jason spent much of his time beside Melody.
At one point, Todd even complained that the birthday boy was ignoring his own friends.
Jason replied that he was merely setting his priorities.
Melody turned red.
Heather nearly fell into the pool from laughing so hard.
When the clock struck eight, Jason’s parents returned home.
Most of the guests had already left.
Only the people closest to him remained.
Melody.
Todd.
Heather.
And a few childhood friends.
That was when Robert entered the living room carrying a small box made of dark wood.
The room grew quieter.
Jason immediately realized that this was no ordinary gift.
“Happy birthday, son.”
Robert handed him the box.
Jason carefully opened the lid.
Inside rested a silver pocket watch.
Its metallic surface reflected the light from the room.
An embossed image of a roaring lion adorned the front cover.
The craftsmanship was remarkable.
Jason carefully opened the watch.
His heart faltered for a moment.
Inside was an old photograph.
Him.
His parents.
And Melody.
The picture had been taken years earlier during a trip to Disney World.
Jason ran his fingers over the image.
“I remember that day.”
“So do I,” Jennifer replied with a smile.
Robert sat in an armchair and rested his arms on his knees.
“This watch has belonged to our family for a very long time.”
Everyone listened closely.
“Your great-grandfather carried it during World War I.”
Jason raised his eyes.
“Then your grandfather took it with him into World War II.”
Silence fell over the room.
“And I carried it while I was serving in Iraq.”
For several seconds, Robert merely stared at the watch.
As though he were revisiting old memories.
Then he looked back at his son.
“Now it’s yours.”
Jason tightened his grip on the object.
“Dad…”
Robert raised a hand, stopping him.
“There is a tradition in our family.”
His voice became more serious.
“Every man in the Miller family carries this watch at some point in his life.”
He pointed toward the object.
“And to this day, every man who has carried it has returned home alive and unharmed.”
Jason felt an unexpected tightness in his chest.
Perhaps it was because, for the first time that night, he understood the true meaning of that gift.
It was not merely a watch.
It was a legacy.
An inheritance.
A silent expression of trust.
Robert placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“I hope it brings you the same luck it brought those who carried it before you.”
For a moment, no one said anything.
Not even Todd.
Jason closed the silver watch and smiled.
“I’ll take good care of it.”
And at that moment, he truly believed he would do so for many years to come.
After the emotion stirred by the watch subsided and the conversations returned to normal, Jennifer appeared carrying a carefully wrapped box.
“Now it’s my turn.”
Jason smiled and began opening the present.
A few seconds later, he frowned.
“Mom, how many layers of tape did you put on this?”
“Just enough.”
“This thing is practically a fortress.”
Laughter spread throughout the room.
After struggling uselessly with the wrapping paper for a few moments, Jason held out his hand to Todd.
“Let me borrow your pocketknife.”
Todd’s eyes widened.
“No chance.”
“It’ll only be for a second.”
“I just sharpened the blade yesterday.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You’ll dull the blade cutting wrapping paper.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes, you will.”
“Todd.”
“Where’s yours?”
“Upstairs in my room.”
“Then go get yours.”
“I’m not climbing two flights of stairs because of a piece of tape.”
Todd released a long, dramatic sigh before pulling the pocketknife from his pocket.
“If anything happens to it, our friendship ends here.”
The object was far from an ordinary pocketknife.
It was a custom model awarded to the players of the team that had won the state championship tournament held in Texas the previous year.
The handle featured black and gold stripes resembling a tiger’s coat, the school’s mascot.
Engraved on the blade were the owner’s name, the year of the victory, and several decorative details.
Todd cared for that pocketknife almost as though it were a family heirloom.
Jason carefully opened the present and immediately returned it.
“See?
Not a single scratch.”
Todd examined the blade for several seconds.
“I think I can forgive you this time.”
Jennifer shook her head, amused by the scene.
Inside the box was a polished metal compass.
When Jason opened it, he found a short inscription engraved on the inside of the lid.
“May it always show you the way home.”
For several seconds, he remained silent.
Then he looked up at his mother.
“Thank you.”
Jennifer smiled.
“I know how much you enjoy camping, hiking, and going on adventures.
I thought it suited you.”
Jason ran his fingers over the compass’s surface.
Between his time in the Scouts, his survival training, and his passion for exploring the wilderness, it was probably one of the most personal gifts he could have received.
Next, it was Melody’s turn.
She handed him a rectangular package.
“It took me a long time to choose this.”
Jason opened the wrapping.
It was a book.
“Diary of a Castaway,” he read aloud.
“It’s the story of a man who survived alone on an island for three years before he was rescued.”
“You bought a survival book for a Scout obsessed with survival?”
“I know my audience.”
Laughter filled the room once again.
Jason moved closer and gently kissed her forehead.
Melody immediately turned red.
“Thank you.
I’ll read it this week.”
When it was Todd’s turn, he pushed a box toward his friend.
“It’s nothing special.”
His tone of voice made it obvious that he was lying.
Jason opened the package.
Inside was a new pair of football cleats.
The exact model he had been eyeing for the past few weeks.
“Man…”
“Consider it an investment in next season.”
“You spent way too much money.”
“And you say that as if you haven’t been buying stocks since you were twelve.”
Jason laughed.
“Fair point.”
The remaining gifts were simpler.
Clothes.
Shoes.
A few accessories.
Small tokens from friends and relatives.
Even so, Jason thanked each of them.
Because at that moment, he realized that the true value of those gifts was not in the objects themselves.
It was in the people who had chosen them.
10:47 p.m., August 15, 2010
The party had ended hours earlier.
The presents were arranged on his desk.
The pocket watch rested beside the compass.
The book Melody had given him remained on the nightstand, waiting to be read.
Despite the exhaustion that had built up after a full day of classes, practice, and celebration, Jason was still awake.
Lying in bed, he stared at the dark ceiling of his bedroom.
Something was bothering him.
He could not explain exactly what it was.
Every time he closed his eyes, his mind returned to the rumors Todd had mentioned during lunch.
Disappearances.
Cannibalism.
Remote areas of Georgia.
And the strange silence he had experienced on his way home.
“I’m getting paranoid,” he murmured to himself.
He rolled over and tried to sleep.
Without success.
Then the chill returned.
The same one he had felt that afternoon.
A shiver traveled down his spine.
Slow.
Uncomfortable.
Instinctive.
Jason sat up in bed.
For several seconds, he remained motionless.
Then he picked up the phone from his nightstand.
There was an unread message.
From Todd.
The video.
“Better get this over with.”
He pressed play.
The recording began like an ordinary news report.
A dirt road.
Several patrol cars.
A reporter interviewing local residents.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
But Jason was not paying attention to the reporter.
His eyes searched the background.
Studying the details.
Looking for inconsistencies.
Then he paused the video.
Rewound it a few seconds.
Watched it again.
Paused it once more.
His heart began to race.
“No…”
He zoomed in.
Watched it frame by frame.
Once more.
And then again.
The more he analyzed it, the more serious his expression became.
It was impossible.
Or at least it should have been.
The comments below the video discussed theories involving cults, criminals, and serial killers.
None of them explained what Jason was seeing.
None of them.
He opened other related videos.
Then more.
And several more.
In every recording, he found small details.
Fragments.
Clues.
Things that most people seemed to overlook.
The strangest part was that the major news networks barely mentioned the story.
A few reports appeared.
Then vanished.
Videos were removed.
Discussions ended abruptly.
As if someone were trying to prevent the story from attracting attention.
Or perhaps he was simply imagining things.
Jason wanted to believe that.
He wanted to believe he was seeing patterns where none existed.
But an unpleasant feeling was growing inside him.
A feeling he knew very well.
The same one he experienced before making an important investment decision.
The same one that warned him when something did not add up.
Instinct.
He looked at the clock.
11:31 p.m.
He tried to sleep.
He could not.
He tried to convince himself that he was overreacting.
He could not do that either.
For the first time since his reincarnation, Jason sensed that something was happening in the world—and his knowledge of the future could do nothing to help him.
That realization frightened him more than any video about cannibalism.
Sleep never came that night.
I’m using AI to translate this story.
English is not my native language.
If you would prefer to read it without an AI translation, you can find the original Portuguese version on this same profile.