The Paths We Choose

Chapter 17 (pov. Lisa)

Somehow, in the shortest amount of time, he's seen more of who I am than anyone else. He's pulled me into his web of protection, and as much as I don't want to admit it, I'm swooned. Then, after his heartfelt rejection in the car he drove me home in silence, like he was scared if he opened his mouth it would destroy the world.

But after arriving home, I would gladly go back to that quiet car ride with the idea of him being there, then to be home in the silence of a broken home.

My father has been more distant. I'd be lucky if he asked me to fetch him a glass of water. He comes home later and leaves earlier, as long as he doesn't see me, my existence is nonexistent.

The trees are tall and wide, leaving dark shadows all around until I'm covered in the darkness and shadow that's human-shaped. As I turn, I realize the shadow—it's my mother's, but it's not the woman I remembered. Her face is twisted into a mask of anger and pain, her eyes hollow and empty.

"Why did you leave me?" she whispers, her voice a haunting echo that reverberates through the forest. Tears blur my vision as I try to respond, but no words come. Guilt weighs heavy on my chest, a suffocating burden that threatens to consume me. "You abandoned me," my mother accuses, her voice rising to a fevered pitch. "You're just like me."

I shake my head, denial bubbling up inside me like bile. But deep down, I know she's right. I carry her darkness within me, a legacy of pain and sorrow that I can never escape. I will always live just like this, standing under her shadow.

I bolt upright in bed, my heart racing as if trying to escape the nightmare that had enveloped me. Sweat-soaked sheets cling to my skin, and I struggle to catch my breath, the remnants of the dream still suffocating me. Slowly, I realize I'm back in my room, safe from the horrors of the forest. But the memory lingers, like a shadow hovering just beyond my reach, reminding me that even in sleep, I can't escape the darkness that haunts me.

As my breath stays ragged, I reach for my phone, remembering I had gotten Elias's number when he needed my address.

With a shaky breath, I pressed the button, the dial tone echoing in my ears like an ominous warning. When his voice finally answered, it was guarded, the tension palpable even through the crackling connection.

"Hey," I said, my voice small and uncertain, unsure of how he would receive my call.

There was a beat of silence before he responded, his tone clipped. "What's up?" His words held a hint of wariness, as if bracing for another confrontation. Relax I'm not going to confess feeling again. I thought.

  I swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to explain what had driven me to call him in the dead of night. "I couldn't sleep" I decided. He had a harden face like he knew us talking wasn't a good idea and despite that he stayed on the line. He let out a sigh and said "I couldn't sleep either" the tension fell a little and my face relaxed.

  We fell into an easy rhythm, exchanging stories and sharing snippets of our lives as if the weight of our disagreement had never existed. The minutes stretched into hours as we talked.

Eventually, as exhaustion began to weigh heavy on my eyelids, I lowered my phone with a yawn, the sound muffled by the distance between us. But even as sleep beckoned, I continued to talk, the sound of his breathing a steady anchor in the quiet of the night.