Old Days Break Free [ON HOLD]

32

The Truth must be Told - 1

Lorraine's POV

It's hard.

It is unbearably difficult to conceal the truth from someone, especially when your sole intention is to shield them from pain.

It weighs on the soul, like carrying a secret too heavy for one heart to bear.

It’s equally agonizing to pretend that everything is fine, knowing full well that the person you care about is living in blissful ignorance, unaware of the storm brewing just beyond their reach.

Athena, in her gentle innocence, remains completely unaware of what transpired earlier today involving her sister, Chandria.

A part of me wishes I could keep it that way, to preserve her happiness for just a little longer.

But deep down, I know that withholding the truth will only delay the inevitable.

Still, I find myself hesitating.

How do you tell someone that their world may crumble?

How do you deliver a blow that could shatter everything they hold dear?

Silveria and January, they know the truth.

I was the one who broke the news to them.

It was easier, somehow—telling someone else, unburdening my soul just enough to share the weight.

And as soon as they knew, they left in a hurry, probably feeling the same dread I carry.

The evening has already settled, wrapping the world in a heavy, silent darkness.

I busy myself by cleaning up the dinner dishes, trying to focus on the mundane tasks while Athena rests peacefully in her room, unaware of the chaos that awaits her.

I had coaxed her into bed early tonight, promising her that we would visit the amusement park tomorrow.

I wanted her to feel joy, even if only for a fleeting moment, before reality comes crashing down.

I don't even fully understand why I suggested the trip.

Maybe it was a desperate attempt to keep her smiling, to see her eyes light up, even if for just one more day.

I guess, in a way, I wanted to give her a reprieve from the heartache I know is coming.

After finishing the cleanup, I slowly retreat to my own room.

My body feels heavy, my mind even more so.

I sit in front of my mirror, my hands mechanically going through my nightly routine—applying a facial mask, brushing my hair.

But as I look at my reflection, my gaze drifts to the small cross hanging behind my door.

It has been there for years, a silent reminder of the faith I hold onto, the faith I need more than ever now.

I can’t help but rise from my seat and walk towards it, my knees feeling weak as I kneel before the cross.

God has always been my sanctuary, the one I run to when the world feels too overwhelming.