Untold Story

Chapter One : Ghosts, Both Living and Dead

______________________________________

Trigger Warning:
This chapter contains scenes of domestic abuse and trauma. Reader discretion is advised.
_____________________________________

Evelyn's POV

"Bitch, how dare you lie to me!"

And with that, he slapped me so hard I hit the floor.

"No! I'm not lying to you, please-stop hitting me! It hurts!" I cried, struggling to rise.

Before I could get to my knees, his boot crashed into my shoulder, sending me down again. Then came the kicks. One after another, each one smashing into my stomach. I screamed in pain.

"Oh, now you're arguing with me? It hurts?" he snarled. "You think that's pain? "Today I'II show you what real pain looks like."

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me toward the bathroom. I screamed, my nails clawing at the floor. He threw me into the tub, cold porcelain hitting my spine, and shoved my head under the water.

I thrashed, bubbles rising around me. My lungs screamed for air. Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. I was dying. I could feel it.

My eyes snapped open.

My body jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat. I gasped for air, my chest heaving like my heart was trying to escape it. For a second, I didn't know if I was still drowning or if I'd finally broken free.

I clutched my throat. The pressure-God, I could still feel it.

Sunlight poured through the wall-sized window across from my bed, flooding the room in golden light. It cut through the haze like a lifeline, trying to pull me back to the present.

I let myself fall slowly back into the sheets.

Breathe. In. Out.

Minutes passed. My heartbeat, once a wild drum, began to steady.

I reached for the glass of water on my nightstand and took a long, shaky sip.

Then I forced myself up, legs heavy, and stumbled into the bathroom.

Cold water splashed against my face. I stared at the woman in the mirror.

Gray hair framed my face, still damp with sweat. My blue eyes-once bright-looked hollow. Haunted.

"When will these nightmares stop?" I whispered.

My voice sounded empty, like it belonged to someone else.

"I don't want to remember."

"I don't want to feel it anymore."

Suddenly, my phone started to ring.

I left the washroom, wiped my hands on a towel and checked who was calling.

Mom.

I picked up the phone and pressed it to my ear.

"Hi, Mom," I said, my voice still rough from sleep.

"Hey, sweetheart," she replied with her usual warmth. "How's my daughter? Did you sleep okay?"

I hesitated. "Yeah... I slept fine."

There was a beat of silence, then a knowing chuckle. "Liar. You know lying to your mother is a crime, right? You had the nightmares again, didn't you?"