31 - 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎

98 6 118
                                    

⚠︎ psychological abuse.

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I woke to darkness, a thick, impenetrable kind that clung to my skin like a shroud. My mind, still fogged with remnants of dreamless sleep, struggled to make sense of the void around me. The air was heavy, stale, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and something metallic, like old blood.

I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy and slow, as if they weren't mine. Panic surged through me, swift and cold, freezing the breath in my lungs. I strained to hear something, anything—a whisper, a creak, a sign of life—but all I heard was the oppressive silence, the kind that presses against your eardrums and makes your own heartbeat seem deafening.

Where am I?

The question echoed in my mind, each repetition a sharper stab of fear. The last thing I remembered was leaving the cafe, though my shift wasn't over, I was just on a break. The sun setting in a blaze of orange and pink, the world softening in the twilight. Then stinging pain on my wrist, an alley, something sweet—disturbingly sweet—pressing my mouth, suffocating me, and then...nothing.

Now here I was, trapped in this black box, feeling as if I were buried alive.

My fingers brushed against cold metal walls, slick with condensation. No windows, no light. The floor beneath me was hard, unforgiving, sending a shiver through my bones. I pushed myself to sit up, the motion slow and painful, my head throbbing with each movement.

"I thought you would never wake up again." I heard a voice from far away like it was in my mind or on the other side of the road. But there was no road, though his voice always lingered in my mind, without a break.

As the dim light peeked through somewhere—probably from a small window—I saw the face I never wanted to see again.

Children always talked about those big scary monsters who would be hiding under their beds, waiting for an opportunity to grab their legs and take control of their souls. Their body. I always thought it was silly as a kid, and that no one would actually take control of me.

I was wrong.

A bitter taste was filling my mouth.
"What did you do to me..?" My voice came out hoarse, as if I hadn't stopped screaming for hours. But I wasn't conscious.

"I gave you a little... something."

If you take more sleeping pills than you should, it'll have a similar effect to drugs. Maybe it is drugs. But this taste I felt, wasn't the one I was used to.

It was actual drugs.

"You drugged me? While I was passed out?!"

"You don't remember? You were awake an hour ago. We had so much fun."

As I saw his grin, I knew immediately why my body ached.

If I could, I would peel off my skin from every part of my body. I would scrub and scrub until the only thing I'd see would be blood.

Not his finger marks. Not his knife. Not him. Especially Not him. Just blood and blood and blood and—

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Then why am I here?! Why won't you just let me be free?!"

He lets out a laugh, sounding almost maniacal. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Well let me explain it to you. See Mila, you lasted alive for two years because you stayed silent. Now, you aren't useful anymore. Which leads us here, in the place of your death. You somehow thought that you weren't worth the saving, but oh darling... you were wrong." He chuckled as if he wasn't planning on killing me. "So when you take your last breath, think about your brother's face."

He pouts, the sound of pity leaving his mouth, his sarcasm suffocating my ability to think. "When you take your last breath, think of how he will blame himself for your death. Think about how you could've prevented all this by just shutting your mouth. And that little boyfriend of yours? Think of him too. But don't forget to think about how forbidding yourself from doing things you enjoyed, wasn't worth it at all."

I felt tears burning my eyes, and rolling down my cheeks, without even having to blink.

I'm gonna die.

"Did you know that after you die, your brain is still alive for seven minutes? It replays the best memories of yours. What will your seven minutes look like huh? Weighing yourself after every sip of water? Flushing your favorite food down the toilet? Running for hours just to burn that one bite of cookie? See how ridiculous that is? You could've had an actual life, Mila. You could've had the memories that weren't followed with pain. But you chose this. And now you realize that it wasn't worth it, but it's too late, isn't it?"

My sobs came in heaving waves, each one wracking my body, tearing through me with a raw, primal force. Tears burned my cheeks, hot trails of sorrow and despair, blurring the edges of my reality. I felt myself unraveling, thread by fragile thread, drowning in the darkness that seemed to have no end.

I'm gonna die.

"You don't have more time to fix things. To fix yourself. You're not in control and the truth is, that you never were. Never."

Heeyyyyy))

I'll take a second so we can all appreciate Marla's playlist which helped me write with no struggle. I had no idea that I would write a chapter like this but I did))  (marlavv)

Anyway, I hope it was worth it when I said to trust the process in previous chapters. I have much more ideas which we'll see in the next chapters. Also, I'll be writing from Newt's point of view more often from now on, so Newtmas's daily life will be written too<3

I hope you liked the chapter!

Take care!!

𝗔𝗹𝗲𝘅𝗶𝘁𝗵𝘆𝗺𝗶𝗮 - TMR AU, Minho.Where stories live. Discover now