Don't Come Home Part 2

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Once, in a small coastal town, there was a family with a peculiar secret. The mother, Lina, was known for her intense intuition, almost like a sixth sense. One evening, her teenage son, Alex, had plans to stay out late with friends at the beach. As he was leaving, Lina looked at him intently and said, "Don't come home tonight."


Alex was puzzled by her words. "What do you mean, Mom?"


She didn’t answer directly. “Just promise me. If anything feels strange tonight, stay somewhere safe. Don’t try to come back here until morning.”


Though he found it odd, Alex agreed, more out of a desire to get on his way than any real concern. He met up with his friends, and they spent hours chatting, laughing, and watching the waves under the moonlight.


As the evening deepened, a thick fog rolled in, wrapping the shore in a cold, eerie silence. The group of friends grew uneasy. When midnight came, Alex felt the pull to head home, but his mother’s words echoed in his mind. Her strange warning made him hesitate.


Deciding to wait it out, Alex convinced his friends to camp on the beach overnight. They huddled by a small fire, telling stories and trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that seemed to hang in the air. The fog thickened, and strange, fleeting shapes seemed to move within it.


Around 3 a.m., a distant sound reached them—a soft, almost melodic humming coming from the direction of the town. Alex felt his heart pound in his chest, gripped by a sudden, inexplicable dread. His friends heard it too, and they all fell silent, trying to make sense of the strange sound. It seemed to grow louder, then fade away, only to return moments later, almost like a lullaby sung by something lurking just out of sight.


One of his friends suggested going to investigate, but Alex stopped him, the weight of his mother’s warning heavy on his mind. They huddled together, trying to ignore the hum, until finally, exhaustion overtook them.


As dawn broke, the fog lifted, revealing the town in soft morning light. Alex and his friends trudged back toward their homes, relieved to leave the strange beach behind. But when they reached the edge of the town, a police car blocked their way. An officer, looking grim, approached them.


“There was a gas leak last night,” he explained. “It caused an explosion in several houses.” Alex’s heart dropped as the officer named streets that had been hit—his home’s street was among them. The strange hum, he realized, must have been the eerie sound of the leak escaping under pressure.


Shaken, he rushed home, where his mother, thankfully unharmed, was waiting for him. She hugged him tightly, whispering, "I knew something felt wrong. That’s why I told you not to come home."


From that day on, Alex trusted his mother’s strange instincts without question. Though he couldn’t explain it, he knew she had saved his life. The words “Don’t come home” remained with him, a haunting reminder of the night that could have ended very differently if he hadn’t listened to his mother’s quiet, 


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