She Was Just A Child (PART 2)

CHAPTER 19: FLICKERS OF MEMORY

The sterile walls of the KorTac base had become both a sanctuary and a prison for Dian. Despite the chaos and turmoil of her recent escapades, a strange calm had settled over her. The familiar sounds of soldiers training and the hum of machinery filled the air, but her mind drifted elsewhere, drawn into a deep well of memories that had long been buried beneath her psychopathic tendencies.

Dian was sitting in her room, the shadows flickering as the light outside dimmed. She absentmindedly traced the outline of a photograph that had been tucked away in her belongings—a small, faded picture of her and her friends from a time that felt like a different lifetime. In the corner of the photo stood Rustam, his smile wide and infectious. His dark hair fell in soft waves, and his eyes sparkled with mischief that Dian had always found irresistible. A warm sensation spread through her chest as she thought about him.

She had liked Rustam for as long as she could remember, but their relationship had always been fraught with uncertainty. They had shared countless moments of laughter and camaraderie, but the line between friendship and something deeper had always remained blurred. Now, as her memories flickered like an old film reel, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing.

Her fingers hovered over her phone, and the urge to reach out to him was overwhelming. Despite everything that had happened, despite the chaos within her mind, she felt a pull toward him. With a deep breath, she opened her messaging app and began to type.

*Hey, Rustam. I've been thinking about you lately. Hope you're doing well. Miss our chats!*

She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing as she hit send. A rush of excitement mixed with anxiety coursed through her. It was a simple message, but it carried with it the weight of her emotions—years of unspoken feelings and a longing that had festered in the corners of her mind.

Days passed, and Dian found herself checking her phone incessantly, waiting for a response. She felt a sense of thrill and trepidation each time she saw his name light up on her screen, only to feel her heart sink when she realized he had only seen her message.

The first few days turned into a week, and still, Rustam remained silent. Each notification that chimed was a cruel reminder of his absence, and Dian's excitement morphed into frustration. What had she expected? He was probably busy with his life, maybe even moving on without her. Yet, a part of her clung to hope—a hope that he might eventually respond.

It was on an ordinary day, while she was wandering the training grounds, that her world tilted on its axis. Dian had just finished a sparring session, her muscles taut and her adrenaline pumping. As she wiped the sweat from her brow, she glanced outside to catch a glimpse of the world beyond the base.

That's when she saw him. Rustam stood a few yards away, laughing with a woman who looked strikingly similar to his colleagues—long hair cascading down her back, her laughter ringing like chimes in the breeze. The sight sent a jolt through Dian's system, her heart dropping as she watched their interaction unfold.

Rustam's laughter was genuine and bright, something that had always drawn her in. But as she observed him, a sickening feeling twisted in her stomach. The way he leaned toward the woman, the playful banter they exchanged—it was as if the world around her faded into a blur. It felt surreal, almost as if she were watching a scene from a movie that didn't include her.

Dian's breath hitched in her throat as she fought to suppress the wave of emotions crashing over her. The feelings she had tried to ignore rushed back, and she felt a mix of anger, jealousy, and deep sorrow. She had always thought there could be something more between them, yet here he was, seemingly happy with someone else.

With a sudden determination, Dian turned away from the window. She refused to let this moment define her. The raw intensity of her emotions, the flickers of memory, threatened to engulf her, but she needed to channel that energy into something else—something productive.