Made for crime

The Past in Shards

Nina's POV 

I woke up in a haze, the room dark and suffocatingly quiet, as if the entire world had forgotten how to breathe. My head felt heavy, my thoughts slow and muddled as I pushed myself up from the bed, disoriented.
Where was Kai?

The room was too big without him. Too cold. I glanced at the empty side of the bed where he should have been, and something inside me twisted. He was always here. Even when he was angry or distant, he never left. But tonight—tonight, he wasn't.

And I felt it. The silence screamed at me, louder than any noise could. It crawled under my skin, gnawed at the edges of my mind, reminding me of something I didn't want to remember. Something I had tried so hard to bury deep enough that I'd never have to face it again.But now, it was all coming back.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the coolness of the floor biting at my bare feet. The room swayed for a moment, but I stood, forcing myself to move. Maybe if I moved, if I did something, I could push it all down. I could forget.

The bathroom was a blur as I stumbled inside, the light too bright, too sharp, cutting through the fog in my head. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—pale, disheveled, hollow. My eyes were wide, red-rimmed, the bruises on my skin fading but still there, stark reminders of what had happened. I looked like a ghost.And suddenly, it hit me.

It had all happened again. Everything I had fought so hard to overcome, everything I had spent years trying to forget. The kidnapping, the violence, the pain. It had come crashing back into my life, ripping open wounds I thought had long since healed.

But they hadn't. They'd just been waiting, festering under the surface.I gripped the edge of the sink, my knuckles turning white. The bathroom seemed to close in around me, the air thick and oppressive. I couldn't breathe. My chest heaved, but the air wouldn't come. My throat tightened, and panic clawed at me, threatening to pull me under.*Breathe, Nina. Breathe.*

But I couldn't. I couldn't make it stop.

The memories slammed into me like a tidal wave, dragging me back to a time I had spent years trying to escape.---

I was thirteen again. He had grabbed me from the street. I had screamed, but no one heard. No one came. He had tied my hands above my head, the rope cutting into my wrists as I hung from the ceiling, my feet barely touching the ground. The room was dark, cold. I could hear the drip of water in the corner, the echo of his footsteps as he paced around me, his breath heavy and thick with something vile.

I couldn't see his face, not clearly. But I could feel him. His hands on my skin, rough and unforgiving. The blows came next—hard, fast, relentless. Bruises blossomed on my arms, my legs, my ribs. Pain radiated through me with every strike, but I couldn't scream. I couldn't cry.

I was nothing.

I hung there, limp, broken, as he assaulted me again and again. His laughter echoed in the small, damp room, filling the air with something monstrous. I had stopped fighting long ago. There was no point. No one was coming. No one would find me.

When they finally did—days later, weeks, I didn't even know anymore—I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I was a shell, hollow and empty, my voice gone, swallowed by the horror I had lived through.

It took years to recover. To learn how to talk again, how to be a person again. And even then, I had never really escaped. The nightmares never left. The fear never left.

And now, it had happened again.---

I snapped back to the present, my knees giving out as I collapsed onto the cold, tile floor. My body shook with sobs, raw and uncontrollable. I couldn't stop. I couldn't hold it back anymore.I buried my face in my hands, the sound of my cries echoing in the small bathroom, but no one was there to hear. No one was coming. Just like before. I was alone. Again.

*Why does this keep happening? Why can't I escape it?*

My breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as I rocked back and forth, trying to find some anchor, some way to pull myself out of the pit I was sinking into. But there was nothing. Nothing but the crushing weight of the memories and the pain that refused to leave.

I felt the sharpness of the blade before I even realized what I was doing. My fingers were trembling, my grip unsteady as I held it up to my skin. The metal was cool against my wrist, a small relief from the heat of my burning thoughts.

Maybe this would help. Maybe this would make it stop.

With a slow, deliberate motion, I pressed down, the blade biting into my skin, a thin line of red welling up in its wake. The pain was sharp, focused, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside me. It was a distraction, a way to drown out the chaos for just a moment.

Another cut. Deeper this time. And another. But the relief was fleeting. The tears kept coming, the sobs tearing through me as if they would never end. My whole body was shaking now, trembling violently as I pressed the blade to my skin again, harder this time, desperate to feel something—anything—other than the crushing weight of my past.

But it didn't work. Nothing worked.

I threw the blade down, the clatter of metal against tile echoing in the room as I collapsed against the wall, pulling my knees to my chest. My body felt too small for all the pain inside it, as if I would break apart at any moment. My hands pressed into my arms, digging into the bruises, but it didn't help. The pain wasn't enough to drown out the memories.

"Kai..." I whispered through the sobs, my voice broken, desperate. "Where are you?"But he wasn't here. He wasn't coming. Just like before, I was alone. Always alone.*It's happening again. It's all happening again.*

And this time, I didn't know if I could survive it.---The sobs wracked my body until I had no more tears left to cry. And even then, the pain didn't leave. It never did. It stayed, as it always had, a shadow that followed me through every step of my life.

I didn't know how long I sat there, curled up on the cold bathroom floor, bleeding from both the outside and the inside. But eventually, the tears stopped, leaving only the hollow ache in their wake.

And I was still alone.