Whispered promises

Chapter 10

I changed into clothes for school before I stood in front of the mirror putting mascara on , hating what I saw. The reflection staring back at me held so much pain, anger, and trauma. I despised how weak I appeared, how all the emotions I had been bottling up were etched on my face.

I leaned against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, trying to catch my breath after the interaction with Harley last night . My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

As I closed my eyes, seeking a moment of respite, flashes of fragmented memories tore through my consciousness like shards of glass. It was as if a dam had burst, and the flood of memories overwhelmed my senses, clouding my vision and threatening to drown me in their dark depths.

I saw myself as a young girl, trapped in the clutches of WCKD, an organization that had twisted and manipulated me for their own nefarious purposes. The memories were painful, evoking the sensation of cold metal restraints, from their torture and the sting of needles piercing my skin, and the torment of countless experiments. I remembered the anguish of watching my friends, me in this nightmarish existence, fall one by one, their lifeless bodies serving as a constant reminder of the cruelty I had endured. All I could was that one voice telling me . "WCKD is good " before I could recover from the memories , Flashes of fragments of me as a child before WCkD flashed through my depths of my mind threatening to consume me .

A guttural and painful groan escaped my lips as I slid down the wall a little , my hands instinctively moving to clutch my head in an attempt to ward off the onslaught of memories. The pain was not just physical; it was a soul-deep ache that threatened to consume me every waking moment as I suffered in silence .

The memories slowly shifted. My groans of pain transformed into a growl of anger. The helplessness and fear that had gripped me.
Rising to my feet, my eyes burned with a fiery resolve. In a fit of rage, my fist Collied against the wall, causing a crack to form on the bathroom tile. The sound of glass shattering echoed throughout the house, catching the attention of Victoria downstairs. Both she and Argent were alarmed by the sudden noise erupting from upstairs.

"What the hell was that?" Victoria asked, her voice filled with concern, as she made her way towards my room. Argent followed closely behind, equally worried. I could hear their hushed conversation as they tried to figure out what had happened.

I looked at my bleeding knuckles, the result of punching the shattered mirror. Heavy breaths escaped my lips as I tried to regain control of my emotions. The sudden voice of my mother broke the silence as she entered my bedroom and approached the en-suite bathroom.

"What the hell is going on?" she inquired, her tone laced with worry. "Nothing," I answered, my voice lacking any emotion. I knelt down on the bathroom floor, picking up the broken pieces of glass that had shattered from the mirror . My mom tried to reach for my hands that were already cut up and bruised from Harley last night , but I pulled them away, avoiding her touch.

"I'm fine, it's just a scratch," I lied, trying to dismiss the severity of the situation. But Victoria knew better. She could see the amount of blood and the depth of the cuts. She knew that this was more than just a scratch .

"Just let me take a look," Victoria pleaded, concern evident in her voice. "I said I'm fine, mom!" I snapped, my anger spilling out uncontrollably. I didn't mean to lash out at her, but my emotions were at an all-time high, ready to explode at the slightest provocation since Harley's and my confrontation and the memories haunting me I was a ticking time bomb .

"Okay, just make sure you clean that properly, alright?" Victoria said, her tone softer now, realizing that pushing me further would only lead to more anger. She motioned towards my bleeding knuckles before retreating back downstairs.