The yellow school bus bumped along the narrow canyon road, dust swirling in its wake as jagged cliffs rose on either side, sun-bleached and sharp against the cloudless sky. Inside, college students pressed against the windows, notebooks and cameras in hand, murmuring about rock formations and the layers of history they were meant to study. Their teacher’s voice carried from the front, explaining the ancient forces that carved the canyon over millennia, though some students scribbled notes halfheartedly, distracted by phones or one another. The bus rattled deeper into the rugged landscape, where heat and sheer cliffs seemed to dwarf every sound of human chatter.
Leaning against the bus window, Charlotte let her straight blonde hair catch the light, strands glowing like spun gold against the dusty glass. She was twenty-one, beautiful, and impossible to ignore. Her long legs stretched under the cramped seat, and the casual confidence in her movements made it clear why she was one of the most admired students in her class. Her gaze drifted over the canyon outside as her mind wandered. Luke or Aiden? Luke was tall, funny, always complimented her posts, but clingy and never left her alone at lunch. Aiden was charming and mysterious, broody in a way that thrilled her, though he had terrible taste in music and always forgets her coffee order. She ticked off the pros and cons like a mental checklist, smiling faintly at the thought of who might slide into her DMs first, while the teacher’s voice and the canyon blurred into background noise.
The bus door hissed open, letting in a blast of hot, dry air that made the canyon walls shimmer. Charlotte stepped down gracefully, adjusting her white t-shirt and navy skirt, already aware that someone had volunteered to carry her bag—boys were always lining up to help her. The heat prickled her skin, but she tilted her head, calculating the sun’s angle. Too harsh, she thought; it would wash out her features in photos. Always good at getting attention without lifting a finger, Charlotte knew today would be no different. The canyon stretched jagged and vast before her, but she barely noticed its rugged beauty. Instead, she scanned the scene, imagining the perfect angles and lighting—it would make an amazing spot for Instagram.
The group clustered around the teacher as he laid out the rules with tired authority. “Stay together. Don’t wander off alone. Take plenty of water with you. This canyon can be dangerous if you’re careless.” Most students nodded, tucking bottles into backpacks or shading their eyes from the sun. Everyone, that is, except Charlotte. She tapped at her phone, barely glancing up. Water? She smirked—if she needed it, someone would hand her a bottle. Guys were always looking out for her, anyway. Her mind was already on the perfect selfie: the sunlight catching her hair just right, making sure her white t-shirt and navy skirt didn’t look sweaty, and that she looked flawless in her next post.
The teacher lectured on the canyon’s formations, pointing to jagged cliffs and fossilized layers while the students scribbled notes and snapped pictures. Charlotte lingered at the back, phone in hand, thumbs flicking, half-listening. Fascinating, she thought, smirking. Really riveting stuff… someone else can write this boring essay for me, anyway. She tilted the phone, scanning for angles—the sunlight hitting the rocks just right, the shadows perfect for her next post. The canyon stretched wide and silent around her, impressive to everyone else, but to Charlotte, it existed only as scenery.
The group came to a halt, murmuring as they crowded around enormous footprints pressed into the sun-baked canyon floor. Enormous prints, far larger than any human foot, stretched forward, toes splayed like jagged talons, vanishing into the dark recesses. The teacher’s voice grew serious. “No one knows what made these,” he said. “They’ve baffled researchers for decades.” Some students traced the edges nervously; others scrambled for cameras. Charlotte, of course, focused on the angle, squinting at the sunlight as she lined up her phone for the perfect selfie with the prints in the background.
“Charlotte! Put the phone down for once! If you’re not paying attention, you’ll get an F—I can ensure that,” the teacher barked, arms crossed. Charlotte smirked, unbothered. She’d always known how to play teachers. Try me, she thought, but she decided to play along. “Right… wow, this is amazing,” she said, tucking her phone away and leaning in, pretending to hang on his every word. Inside, she was already dreaming about her posts going viral. Good grades didn’t impress her; the likes on her feed did.
As the group moved on, Charlotte’s eyes caught a majestic peak rising stark and white against the sun-baked cliffs. Her chest fluttered with excitement. She could already imagine the perfect shot—sunlight glinting in her hair, jagged rocks fanning out behind her like a cinematic backdrop. The teacher’s lecture carried faintly over the trail, students absorbed in notes and cameras. She let the others move ahead, lingering at the trail’s edge, weighing whether to go for it.
I’ll be back before they even notice I’m gone, Charlotte thought, a smirk tugging at her lips. Without another second’s hesitation, she stepped onto the slope. The climb was steep, loose rocks shifting under her sneakers, and the sun beat down, hot and relentless—but she didn’t care. She was strong, fit, used to pushing herself, and utterly determined. Each step brought her higher, muscles straining, heart racing, her focus sharp as she pressed toward the peak.
Charlotte reached the peak, chest heaving, sweat glinting on her skin, and whipped out her phone. It was much higher than it had looked from the trail, the canyon sprawling dizzyingly below. Perfect light. Perfect backdrop. Perfect her. The guys would be fighting over me if they see this post, she fantasized, tilting the phone to catch her hair just right. Thousands of likes, no question. Damn, I look good. She snapped a few quick shots, smirking at her own reflection on the screen, the canyon stretching endlessly behind her.
Charlotte glanced down and felt her stomach drop. The group was already far ahead, reduced to small figures winding along the trail. Fuck. She’d gotten too caught up. Going back the way she came would take too long, and she could already imagine the teacher counting heads. Her eyes traced a narrower route cutting sharply down the rock face—steeper, rougher, but much faster. She hesitated only a second. I’ll be fine, she told herself, then started down the shorter path, careful but determined to catch up before anyone noticed she was gone.
Charlotte sighed and started down the steep path, already irritated as dust and grit smeared her expensive Nikes. After a few easy steps, she grew careless, thinking she could handle it. Then her foot slipped. Her phone lurched from her hand and skidded across the rock. No! She reached for it on instinct, panic overriding sense, and in that split second her balance vanished. Her heel slid out, gravel gave way, and she was suddenly sliding down the slope after it, helpless and fast.
Charlotte dropped off the cliff edge and into the canyon below. She screamed as the air tore past her, arms flailing, body spinning. Rocks flashed by in a blur of jagged shadows and sharp edges. The wind roared in her ears as she kept falling, tumbling deeper and deeper into the dark gap beneath her…
To be continued…