CHAPTER FIVE

The peeling wallpaper seemed to murmur secrets, and the wooden floor groaned under my weight. I turned, heading towards the stairs, before stopping in front of a door, my heart thundering in my chest. At the threshold of my old room, I hesitated, uncertain, before I finally pushed the door open.

The room was in disarray, yet the air was heavy with sorrow. I stepped inside, and the memories rushed back. The bed was a mess, just as we had left it, and the walls were decorated with old, cracked photographs, frozen moments from a life that once was.

Exhausted, I lay down, hoping to escape the hunger gnawing at me. Soon, I drifted into a restless sleep, trying to forget the pain, if only for a while. But then, I woke, gasping for air, my face drenched in sweat. My heart was racing, pounding in my chest. Hot tears slid down my face as I tried to shake off the suffocating nightmare. My chest felt tight, as though it were being crushed, and the darkness seemed to pull me deeper. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Shadows closed in, suffocating, and despite my screams, no sound escaped my lips. The voices in my mind twisted with hatred, drowning me in a tangled mess of thoughts as I was swallowed by the darkness.

I struggled to breathe, my throat dry and hoarse. My arms were frozen, pinned, and my legs refused to move. There was no air to inhale, the weight on my chest suffocating. My vision blurred, my lungs burned, and I knew in that moment that something terrible was about to happen.

"Carmenta!" A voice cut through the fog of fear, distant but growing clearer, like a rope pulling me back to reality. I jerked awake, gasping for air as strong hands shook my shoulders. My eyes snapped open, and the first thing I saw was his face—furrowed brow, his usual weary eyes now filled with worry.

He was there, pulling me from the edge of the nightmare, grounding me in the present, where the terror had no hold. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the remnants of the fear that had gripped me. His presence, always so steady, brought me back to the moment, to safety.

I’ve gone through it again. I woke with a jolt, fear coursing through me as the nightmare clung to my mind. I reached up to grasp my head, trying to steady myself, as my breath came in shallow gasps. My thoughts are a tangled mess—I feel shattered, shaking, and deeply unwell, consumed by dread, chaos, heartache, and all the emotions in between. I gasped again, overwhelmed by my sobs. Cold tears flowed from deep within, tracing down my cheeks. My hands trembled as I pressed them to my face, the mixture of emotions too much to bear in this moment, especially in this house. It was the most terrible day of my entire foolish life, and I'm not even sure there’s a word to describe how unbearably bad it was. I kept questioning when this nightmare would finally come to an end.

After a few minutes, my sanity and consciousness gradually crept over me. Every time I wake from my nightmare, it's as though I slowly forget everything about the present. Each time I awaken, it feels like I’m losing touch with everything around me. I have no idea why. I can't bring myself back to the current moment. I bit my lip to stop it from trembling, rubbing my eyes to clear the blur, desperately scanning every corner filled with doubt, anxiously searching for answers, terrified of whatever dark thing had followed me here. There was no sound or light—only the darkness. The air smelled of poison, salty like blood. I tried to calm myself, but fear trembled deep inside me. I felt blind, lifeless, bound—like a lamb, ready to be slaughtered.

My bodyguard, the one my father had insisted on hiring, was crouched beside my bed, his strong hands steadying me as I trembled. But he moved quickly, grabbing the pitcher from the table and pouring water into a glass. As he handed it to me, I harshly swatted it away.

"I don't need your pity," I shouted, my voice trembling with anger and frustration, echoing through the stillness of the room. “Just leave, I don’t want you here!” He was taken aback by my outburst but remained still.

He studied me for a moment, his gaze calm but unwavering, and then he turned without a word. sighed. Before leaving the room, I heard him take a deep breath, but he didn’t say anything further. My eyes were swollen, and my body felt weak. I covered my mouth, desperately trying to suppress the sob threatening to escape. The weight of everything bore down on me, and though I struggled to stay composed, the cracks in my resolve grew deeper with every passing moment. I shook my head in disbelief. I then mumbled under my breath, "I-It was nothing short of a nightmare... It was all a nightmare. Not true. Not real."