Lahat ng Kabanata ng Underneath The Moonlight : Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

Snow at night is supposed to be peaceful. Christmas is supposed to be comforting. A time of warmth. A time of gentle light glowing from windows and laughter spilling into the cold air. But not for me. Not tonight. As I run through the forest, the world around me looks like a postcard—white snow drifting like feathers, moonlight reflecting on the ground like scattered diamonds, distant houses dressed in red and gold lights. The kind of beauty that usually makes my heart soften. The kind that almost makes you believe the world can be kind. Heck this is my favorite month. But tonight, Christmas is a cruel joke. Snow is just another layer of danger and its beauty is a sharp contrast to the nightmare swallowing me whole. Branches whip at my skin as I sprint through the darkness. My lungs burn. Every breath feels like swallowing ice. I’m shaking—not from the cold, but from terror so strong it feels like it’s carved into my bones. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know

The office finally quiets down around mid-afternoon. The chaos of Mr. Everett’s impossible demands has faded like a bad dream, leaving only the low hum of computers and the occasional chatter of coworkers. It looks like there won’t be any overtime for the time being. Hopefully. For today, at least, because I don’t know what Mr. Everett will bring tomorrow. My fingers hover over my phone as I stare at Kade’s name on the screen. Why does it feel so heavy to send a single text? We’ve been together for three years. It should be easy, right? This shouldn’t be hard for me. I tap the keyboard and delete the message three times before finally typing: “Can we meet tonight? I want to talk. I think we should try to fix things before christmas.” I hit send and almost drop the phone from nerves. He sent me the same message. A part of me sighs a relief he’s thinking about me. Of course, he responds almost instantly (this time): “I’ll pick you up at 7. Same place as last time?” I

It had been almost a week since the fight with Kade, the fight that still replayed in my head in endless, exhausting loops. I tried to focus on work, on small tasks, even on the tiny decorations I’d put up in my apartment for Christmas, but nothing could drown out the sharp edges of his words. I could have used a friend. Aurora would have been perfect. She had this uncanny way of making me laugh even when I didn’t want to, talking me down from spiraling thoughts. But she was out of town for work, visiting a client across the country, leaving me entirely alone to deal with the chaos Kade left behind. I thought of my mom, too. She had done so much for me over the years, working tirelessly to support me and give me a life she could be proud of. Lately, she was buried in her own work, exhausted even in the evenings. The last thing I could do was trouble her with my problems, as if my heartbreak or frustration were another burden for her to manage. She had already done enough. More than

I woke up before my alarm, my eyes snapping open as if my body already knew how important today was. Christmas Eve. For a moment, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, a smile slowly spreading across my face. My chest felt warm, buzzing with excitement that refused to let me rest any longer. Today mattered. Everything about today mattered. I rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet as I hurried to get dressed. I threw on a sweater, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and grabbed my bag, already mentally running through a checklist. Presents. I still needed a few last-minute Christmas presents—one for Mom, one for Aurora, and one for Kade. I wanted them to be perfect. Not expensive, not flashy, just… thoughtful. Something that said I know you. The city was quiet as I made my way toward the shopping mall, the early morning air crisp and refreshing. The streets were still half-asleep, dusted with leftover snow that crunched softly beneath my boots. Christmas lights li

I wake slowly, the way you do after a fever breaks or a long night of bad dreams. There’s no sudden jolt, no sharp gasp for air. Just a dull awareness that my body feels… wrong. Heavy. Sore. When I try to move, a quiet hiss slips from my lips before I can stop it. Pain blooms along my ribs, deep and aching, like a bruise pressed too hard. My ankle throbs in protest, and my arm feels stiff, wrapped too tightly. I open my eyes. The ceiling above me is wooden, beams dark with age but clean and solid. Warm light spills softly from a lamp nearby, not bright enough to sting. The air smells faintly of herbs and clean linen, oddly comforting. For a moment, I just lie there, disoriented. Then I notice the bandages. White cloth wraps my forearm. My ribs. My ankle. Neatly done. Carefully done. Someone took their time. My heart stutters. The memory returns in pieces. The forest. Running until my lungs burned. The way my legs finally gave out beneath me. The ground rushing up