CH 002: The Day It All Began

[ BROOKLYN ]

“What have you done?!” I scream, my voice breaking as tears spill freely down my face. My heart feels like it’s tearing itself apart, bleeding out inside my chest. My eyes flick back to the window, to the body lying unnaturally still on the ground below.

I want to believe that isn’t my mother. I want to believe my eyes are lying.

But the truth is brutal.

That’s my mother down there. And that blood on Lance’s hands are hers. They threw her off the fucking building!

“Let me go to her!” I sob, trying to rush past him, but he steps in front of me instantly, blocking my way. I push at his chest with shaking hands, yet he doesn’t move an inch. “Please,” I beg, my voice cracking. “She’ll die. Let me go to her. Please—”

The remaining words die in my mouth as sudden excruciating pain explodes through me.

I feel the pain of something sharp sinking deep into my stomach, cutting off my breath at that instant. A broken gasp tears from my lips as fire rips through my body.

I blink through tears and look down.

A kitchen knife.

It’s buried deep in my stomach to the hilt, blood already soaking my dress and staining his hand, mixing into my mother’s.

“Lance…” I whisper, lifting my eyes to his face. My world stops.

There’s no expression of guilt in Lance’s face. Not even a flicker of emotion in those cold, evil eyes. 

My legs threaten to give way, and I grip his shoulders to keep myself upright.

“We can’t have you talking and ruining everything my family has spent years building,” he says calmly and coldly. “Your mother knew too much. She threatened to expose us with the ‘dirtiest secrets we hide’, or so she called it. That’s why she had to go.”

He chuckles sinisterly.

“Your dad tried to do the same thing to us, you know? Did some digging into my family and found out some stuff no one else should ever know about. Threatened to release all evidence to the public.” His lips curl into a dark, delighted smirk. “Thank goodness we got to him faster. Swapped his medication. Caused an early cardiac arrest and watched him die like a little pussy. Seems your family isn’t really good at keeping secrets, hm Brooks.”

His words cut deeper than the knife, another bitter tear sliding down my face. 

Oh, poor dad.

Pain consumes everything and darkness presses in, but I force my eyes open. Warm, thick blood spills from my mouth. My fingers dig into his shoulders, struggling to stay standing.

They killed my mom and dad.

And now they’re doing the same to me. Wiping out my entire family. 

Heavy, suffocating grief crashes into me, tangled with rage so sharp it burns hotter than the wound in my stomach. My vision blurs and I can feel my grip on consciousness slipping.

“You…” I choke, blood spilling again. My voice is barely a whisper as I lean closer. “I swear by my last breath… you’ll pay for this. In my next life, I’ll make sure you die by my hands. I’ll be your karma… even if it t-takes hundreds o-of centuries to find you.”

“Karma?” he laughs lightly. “That’s a fucking myth.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek, then yanks the knife free. A soundless grunt escapes my throat as he shoves me to the floor, letting my body hit it hard.  

Blood pools beneath me, spreading fast. My breaths grow weaker as I watch him walk away, leaving me there like I’m nothing but a bothersome insect left to rot away.

With the last air in my lungs, I whisper a broken prayer as my eyes start to flutter shut.

“Dear universe… let me come back again. Let me have another life. Let me take revenge for my family. Take whatever you want in return.”

My chest stills as the last breath slips from my lungs. 

Darkness finally claims me.

~~~~~

“Brook! Wake up! Brook!”

The voice drags me out of the thick, endless dark where I’d been floating. It hooks into me and pulls hard. And strangely, I’m grateful that this is the first voice I hear after death.

“Brook! Jesus Christ, are you made of wood? Wake up!”

My eyes slowly peel open. Warm light floods my vision, blinding me. I squint.

My mother’s face fills my sight.

She’s hovering over me, excitement written all over her face. “Finally. You’re awake. Get up and freshen up quickly. They’re here!”

Before I can even process her words or where I am, she grabs my arm and pulls me out of bed. The second my feet hit the floor, I freeze.

Pink walls. My walls.

My room surrounds me, untouched. Books neatly arranged on the shelves. My small vanity by the window. My old CDs stacked in a corner. My ice skating shoes sitting exactly where I used to leave them.

I blink, confused. Why am I here?

Not just in my room, but in my parents’ old mansion. The house we lost after my father went bankrupt.

I should be dead. Is this… the afterlife?

“Hey! Focus!” My mother swats my arm lightly.

I flinch as dull pain shoots up my skin.

Then, I freeze again. Pain? Dead people don’t feel pain.

My breath catches as my eyes drift to the mirror. I step closer, staring at my reflection like I’m looking at a stranger.

My hair… It's long. Just the way it was before I cut it during one of my worst depressive episodes months ago.

My pulse spikes as my gaze drops to the calendar on my vanity.

March 13th, 2020.

For a moment, my lungs forget how to work.

“No…” I whisper, moving fast and grabbing the calendar with shaking hands. 

This is wrong. Impossible even.

It’s supposed to be August 4th, 2021. This is over a year ago!

My heart slams violently against my ribs. I pinch my arm hard, desperate to wake myself up from this fucked up dream.

Pain bites into my skin. Real pain again. 

Just then, my memories crash into me all at once: Lance’s face. The cold blade sinking into my stomach. The burning pain. His confession. Mom’s body on the ground. Blood pooling around me as I begged the universe for another chance.

“What if…” I murmur, panicked. “What if it was all a dream? What if none of that ever happened?”

“Brook?” My mother’s voice turns cautious behind me. I turn sharply, and her gaze drops to my bare stomach. I’m wearing a tank top.

“When did you get that scar?” She asks softly, confused.

“What scar?” I say, looking down. The air leaves my lungs in one sharp rush as soon as I see it. 

A faint, healed scar on my stomach. On the exact spot Lance had stabbed me. 

My fingers tremble as I reach out and touch it. It’s real. Jesus Christ!

And as if on cue, the prayer I’d muttered while I lay dying in a pool of my own blood replays itself loudly in my head. 

“Dear universe… let me come back again. Let me have another life. Let me take revenge for my family. Take whatever you want from me in return.”

Tears blur my vision. It really wasn’t a dream. None of it was.

I’ve been given another chance. A second life.

However twisted the universe is, it listened to my prayer.

I lift my tear-filled eyes to my mother. She’s standing right in front of me. Alive. Breathing. Beautiful, just as she’s always been. And if today is really March 13th, 2020, then that means dad is alive too. 

My heart cracks open.

Without thinking, I rush forward and wrap my arms tightly around her. “Mom,” I choke out. “Thank God. Thank God you’re alive.”

She stiffens for a moment, then laughs softly, hugging me back and patting my back. “Of course I am. Seems you had a really bad nightmare.”

“I did,” I whisper, tears slipping down my cheeks.

She pulls back gently. “Alright now. Go get dressed. We have important guests.”

Overwhelmed with relief and joy, I don’t even ask who. I change quickly into a simple floral sundress, run my fingers through my hair, and follow her out of my room.

The moment we step into the living room and I see who the guests are, my legs stop moving.

“Sweetheart!” Dad waves at me excitedly as soon as he sights me. “Come over!”

My lungs lock as I take in the familiar faces of the Armanis, smiling sweetly at me as though they’re angels. 

Another voice comes behind me. A very familiar one. “So sorry I’m late. Got caught up in traffic.”

My blood turns cold instantly. Those words…those were the exact words he muttered on this same day. 

On this exact date. The day our families first discussed our marriage publicly.

Is history repeating itself? 

Slowly, I turn.

Dark turquoise eyes meet mine. Intense, familiar, and unmistakably his. Those same eyes that I’d admired endlessly during our wedding, only to never see them again. Eyes that had caused my downfall.

My lips part before I can stop myself.

“Izaac?”