No Longer Silent“Eveline, dear, wait,” she said, approaching. “We were waiting for you. We sat down without you, but we can call someone to make you something to eat.”“What time is it?” I asked, my voice shaky, disoriented. I couldn’t even process what I was doing. Margaret looked at me, concern in her eyes.“Ten o’clock, dear,” she said softly, stepping closer. “Are you alright?”“I… I’m fine,” I stammered, words failing me. “I just need to rest.”I felt warmth spreading through my neck, weakness in my legs. Pain slowly crept over my whole body. Margaret touched my shoulder gently, but behind her, I saw Dante watching. He took a step forward, and I instinctively stepped back.“I… I have to go,” I whispered, turning toward the stairs. I grabbed some pills from the drawer and took them quickly. My body trembled, my legs gave way, and I sank to the floor beside the bed, struggling to breathe. Every inhale burned. I tried moving to the balcony for air, but I could barely stand, only ma
The Weight of SilenceI had just finished my day at the university—a meeting with the director had gone surprisingly well, everything as I hoped. Feeling a little lighter, I met my friends at the café, and we settled into our usual corner. The café was warm, but my chest felt frozen. I tried to smile. I tried to smile, but it felt fragile, easily shattered by the memories I still feared to face. My friends were here, just a few steps away, and that alone gave me something to hold onto.Jenny appeared from behind, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement.— “Well, look who decided to show up! We almost forgot you existed,” she said with a teasing grin.I gave a faint smile, shrugging.— “Things… just kept me busy,” I said softly. “A lot to catch up on at university.”She lingered for only a moment before heading off.My throat tightened, my heart hammering. The words were waiting, heavy and jagged, and I knew I had no choice but to let them out.I drew in a shaky breath, feeli
Between Fear and DefianceI barely had a moment to breathe when a knock came at the door, telling me dinner was ready.My heart began to pound so fast I thought it might tear out of my chest. I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with air, and whispered to myself that I could do this. Then I stepped out of the room.As I descended the stairs, I heard Dante’s voice. My knees nearly buckled beneath me; I felt a sudden weakness sweep through my legs, and I had to grip the railing lightly to keep myself steady. But I forced myself to continue, one step at a time.He stood with his back to me. Enzo noticed me first — his eyes widened in surprise, though he said nothing. Dante remained turned away until I took another few steps forward. Then, slowly, he turned.Our eyes met. My breath caught.It was as if the air had vanished, as if the whole world had frozen.The way he looked at me — as though his worst enemy stood before him.There was nothing in his eyes. No warmth, no comfort, none
CrushedI heard a knock on the door, and Emma walked in with clothes in her hands.“I came to help you,” she said softly.“Thank you,” I replied.She helped me change, carefully adjusting each piece of clothing, and while we talked, she mentioned that she’d soon be leaving. The thought made me strangely relieved. When I was finally dressed, she offered to do my makeup, but I refused — I wasn’t going to play along with my father’s little spectacle again.Once Emma left, I lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. Why would she want to see me after everything? Perhaps to ask if I truly did it… if I really betrayed her son. A thousand thoughts swirled in my head, and not one of them had an answer. All I had were the words “I didn’t do it.” But would that be enough? I had no proof, nothing but my word. Dante didn’t believe me, so why would his mother?Suddenly, someone knocked on the door again. They told me Margaret was here. My breath caught.I walked out and climb
FracturedFor an entire week, I did nothing but sleep. Johnny kept giving me painkillers, and because of that, I could barely feel anything. He insisted that I eat, saying I couldn’t recover otherwise. Even though food made me nauseous, I forced myself to take a few bites. Sometimes, he even fed me with his own hands. When I asked why he was doing all this, he never gave me an answer—he just smiled quietly and wrote something down in his notebook. He rarely ever responded to my questions.Days turned into weeks. Slowly, I began to walk again. Johnny would steady me, never letting me fall, no matter how much the pain made me stumble. Little by little, I started managing on my own—I could go to the bathroom without his help, and I forced myself to handle other small things too. It embarrassed me to rely on him for everything.One evening, I ran the bath, undressed, and carefully wrapped a waterproof cover around my cast before stepping under the hot water. It had been three months since
The mark of pain I’ve lost track of how many days I’ve been here. I don’t even know if it’s day or night anymore. It’s been so long since I last ate anything. They only give me just enough water so I don’t die. Whenever my father is in a bad mood — which is often — he remembers that he locked me in the basement as some kind of punishment. To calm his nerves, he comes down here frequently. Only when he enters does the light turn on, and only then can I see the state my body is in — filthy, bruised, bloodied. Every time, he hits me with all his strength, and I don’t even have the strength to fight back.I couldn’t stop trembling from the cold. The thin clothes I wore were no match for the freezing air. I curled up on the cold floor and closed my eyes. I thought about my friends, knowing they must be scared because of my disappearance. I also knew they would start searching for me. I wiped away the tears from my face — my skin burned from the cold and crying — but I couldn’t do anything