روايات بقلم zvachonruth

ELOWEN “Tsk-tsk, what a failed escape plan.”The words did not need to be loud to destroy me. They carried authority, ownership, and punishment in every syllable.My body reacted before my mind could catch up. And, I froze.It felt as if my veins had turned to ice, as if fear had rooted me into the ground and claimed me as its own. Slowly—so slowly that it felt like a punishment in itself— I turned around.The garden lights revealed him.My father…He stood a few steps away, his broad figure blocking the path that had almost led me out. His face was carved from rage and disbelief, his jaw clenched so tightly that I could see the muscle twitch beneath his skin. His eyes burned red, not with concern or betrayal, but with fury— as though my attempt to escape was not desperation, but a personal insult to his authority.Behind him, the shadows shifted.Then she emerged. My grandmother. The mastermind of all the tragedies in our lives. She leaned heavily on her cane, her posture rigid a

ELOWEN I sank onto the bed, clutching the key in my fist, my other hand pressing protectively against my belly. A faint movement answered me from within, although I know it’s not possible so soon, perhaps it's just my own thoughts. But even if it is, I believed in it and I let out a broken breath that turned into a quiet sob…“We’re getting out,” I whispered to my unborn child. “I promise...”Then the waiting started and it was unbearable.Every second stretched thin, every sound made my heart stutter. And after an hour of patience, I finally accepted that waiting longer would not make me any braver.Time inside that room did strange things to my mind. Each second stretched thin, then snapped back painfully, as though the walls themselves were aware of my hesitation and took pleasure in it. I counted my breaths until they blurred together, listened to my heartbeat until it felt too loud, too dangerous. Every sound from the corridor— footsteps, distant voices, the soft roll of a c

ELOWENThe knock came again.This time, it was firmer, closer, as though it had a weight behind it. I froze on the washbasin counter, my fingers clenched so tightly around the edge that my knuckles burned. The diary was still warm in my hands, its weight pressing against my ribs like a secret with a pulse of its own. My breath stalled halfway in my chest, refusing to move, as panic surged so violently that for a moment my vision narrowed.“Elowen?”The voice carried through the door, gentle and familiar, and it struck me harder than fear ever could.Mom!My heart lurched painfully. My throat tightened as I swallowed back a gasp, my mind scrambling, racing through what I needed to do, what I needed to hide, how quickly everything could unravel if I made even one wrong move. My hands moved on instinct, shoving the diary back into the cabinet above the sink, pushing it deep behind for extra security. I slammed the door shut and flinched at the sound.“You okay, baby?” her voice came

ELOWEN I stopped, swallowed hard again before turning the page with trembling fingers…‘When they found out, they did not scream. That was the most terrifying part.’My hands tightened around the diary as she described the moment everything shattered…‘For the first time, my mother slapped me. I had seen the exhaustion in her eyes for the first time.’‘Leo was taken away without explanation. I was locked into my quarters without violence, without noise, as though I had simply ceased to exist.’‘They told me nothing for weeks. I learned then how loud despair could be.’‘When Leo was finally allowed to see me again, I barely recognized him. He had learned how to survive the house. And I had learned how to endure it. We were warned. We were ordered to forget… And we tried… For days, for months. I tried looking at my mother and he did out of gratitude, yet, when love was bigger than obedience, it had to shatter.’‘We escaped…’ I exhaled a shaky breath, before turning the page over and c

ELOWENI sat on the cold marble counter of the wash basin, my legs dangling uselessly as though my body no longer trusted the ground to hold me. The diary lay heavy in my hands, heavier than it had any right to be, as if the years pressed between its yellowed pages had weight of their own. The bathroom was quiet, mercifully untouched by cameras or watching eyes, and for the first time since waking in this gilded cage, I felt alone enough to breathe…My fingers trembled as I turned the cover back again.The name stared up at me, written in a careful, slanted hand that felt intimate in a way nothing in this house ever was…Dahlia Veyrek.My breath shuddered as I stared at the name. Specifically, the part— Veyrek. Could it be… “God.” I whispered, my breath shaking at the realisation. Although I am not completely certain, I have a feeling my guess is correct. I turned to the next page…The handwriting was elegant at first— controlled, careful, as if the writer had believed that neat w

ELOWENThe door closed behind them with a sound that was almost polite. Just the soft, decisive click of a lock sliding into place.For a moment, I remained standing where they had left me, my body was stiff, my hands hovering uselessly in front of my stomach. The room felt larger now, impossibly so, as if the walls had retreated the instant they were gone. The silence they left behind pressed harder than their words ever had. It was thick, suffocating, and deliberate, like a held breath that refused to be released.I didn’t cry though… That realization came to me distantly, as though I were observing myself from somewhere far away. I had expected tears— expected my body to collapse under the weight of what had just been said— but instead, I felt suspended, caught in a fragile state between shock and awareness. My lungs refused to find a steady rhythm. Each inhale was too shallow, each exhale uneven, as if my body had forgotten how breathing was supposed to work.My heart thudded e