Dark Grey

Chapter 16: Fractured Pieces

I couldn’t stop crying. My whole body was shaking as I sat crumpled on the cold floor, my mind reeling from what had just happened with Jake. The pain, the confusion—it was all too much. I didn’t even hear the door creak open. It wasn’t until I heard the gasp that I realized I wasn’t alone.

“Jae? Oh my God, Jae!”

It was Ella. I lifted my head just enough to see her standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock and concern. She dropped the props she’d been carrying, her usual smile gone, replaced by a look of pure horror. She rushed over to me, kneeling beside me.

“What happened? Who did this to you?” Her voice was frantic, her hands reaching out to touch me, but I flinched away, the sudden intrusion too much for my already frayed nerves.

“Jae, please, talk to me. What’s going on?” she pleaded, her voice rising in panic. But her concern, her need to know, only made the panic rise inside me. I couldn’t handle this right now—I couldn’t handle anything.

“Stop,” I whispered, but she didn’t hear me.

“Was it Jake? Did he—”

“Stop!” I shouted, my voice cracking as I pushed her hands away. But Ella didn’t stop. She kept pressing, kept asking questions, her worry pushing her to dig deeper.

“Please, Jae, let me help you. Just tell me—”

“I said STOP!” I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls of the small room. My outburst stunned her into silence, her eyes wide with shock and hurt. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, but I couldn’t care—not right now.

I stumbled to my feet, my body still trembling. I didn’t even look back as I bolted out of the room, leaving Ella behind, confused and hurt. I ran through the hallways, not caring where I was going, just needing to get away. Away from the school, away from Jake, away from everything.

I didn’t stop running until I reached the old playground on the edge of town. It was a place I hadn’t visited in years, not since before the accident that had shattered my family. The playground was deserted, the swings rusty and creaking in the wind, the slide coated in a layer of dust. It was a place that had once been full of laughter and life, but now it was as empty and broken as I felt.

I collapsed onto one of the swings, the metal groaning under my weight. I started to swing gently, the movement mechanical, almost mindless. The tears came again, streaming down my face as I let out all the pain, all the hurt that had been building up inside me.

Why was my life like this? Why did everything have to be so hard, so unfair? All I’d ever wanted was to be loved, to be safe, to be happy. But all I got was pain and heartache. My mom and brother were gone, taken from me in an instant. My dad had turned into a monster, and the boy I loved—Jake—was the one who hurt me the most.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold myself together, but I was breaking. I was already broken. The tears wouldn’t stop, the sobs tearing through me, leaving me gasping for air. I wanted it all to end. I wanted to just disappear, to escape from this nightmare that was my life.

But as I sat there, swinging back and forth, the wind gently brushing against my skin, a memory flickered in my mind—something my mom used to say when I was little, before everything went wrong.

“When life feels too heavy, remember that you’re stronger than you think. The storm always passes, and when it does, the sun shines even brighter.”

Her voice, soft and warm, echoed in my mind, and for a moment, I could almost feel her arms around me, holding me tight like she used to. I closed my eyes, letting the memory wash over me, letting myself believe, if only for a moment, that maybe—just maybe—I could survive this. That maybe there was a small sliver of hope left for me, even if it was buried deep down inside.

The tears kept coming, but they weren’t as bitter anymore. The pain was still there, sharp and raw, but the memory of my mom’s words gave me something to hold on to. I wasn’t sure if I could find my way out of this darkness, but I knew I had to try. For her, for my brother, and maybe even for myself.

I sat on that swing for what felt like hours, letting the wind dry my tears, letting the memory of my mom’s voice guide me through the storm raging inside me. The world around me was quiet, almost peaceful, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a tiny flicker of hope.

Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought. Maybe there was still something left worth fighting for.

As I looked around the deserted playground, something caught my eye—a small, delicate flower growing at the edge of the rusty slide. It was a white lily, its petals soft and pure against the harsh backdrop of the dilapidated playground. It seemed almost impossible that something so beautiful could grow in a place like this, but there it was, standing tall and proud despite everything.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I stared at the lily. It was a symbol of peace, of hope, of resilience. Maybe, like that flower, I could find a way to keep growing, to keep fighting, even in the darkest of places. Maybe there was still a chance for me to find peace.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to believe that things could get better. That maybe, just maybe, I could find my way back to the light.