Dahlia of the Dark

Chapter 1

"I wish I had killed you the moment you were born, Dahlia!," my mom spat as she hit me on the back with a strong thud. Being abused, both mentally and physically, has become a daily occurrence for me. Most of the time. it's mental abuse, but physical abuse is just one retort away. Ive gotten used to it for the most part-or at least I try to convince myself I have.

As I rolled my eyes at her, she struck me again, her anger bubbling over. She started crying for reasons I couldn't fathom-maybe she was just mad at Dad for being a jerk to her again. I have been the scapegoat for everyone for as long as I can remember. Guilt twisted in my chest as I felt the familiar pang of not apologizing to her for her outburst. I know it sounds strange, but she's my mom, and I don't want to go to hell after suffering so much in this world.

I wonder where I'll end up when I die. Lost in thought, I mindlessly scroll through reels on Instagram as my back burned in pain.

"Get out of this room, you bitch! Because or you,
Mom is crying again. Don't forget your fucking status in this house!" yelled my eldest sister, Marina. Oh for fuck's sake. Not her now, I sighed, my head starting to pound.

My mind raced, trying to find a way to maintain my sanity when another high-pitched shout pierced through: "Didn't you hear me? Get out!"

I grabbed my phone and left the room, wearing an indifferent expression. Great, now I have nowhere to go. Living in a third-world country means getting out of the house isn't an option, and going to my mother's or sister's room would be foolish. I headed to the balcony, dark and dirty, but it felt safer than the pristine house. I took a few deep breaths, but my lips trembled.

No. I can't cry now: I've held back my tears for thirty
minutes after the abuse—it's a record. Yet, my tears didn't listen and fell one after another. "God, I'm a mess," I whispered silently until my eyes could bleed no more.

I returned to my room when my sister was finally asleep. I lay down in a corner, a strange sense of calm washing over me. For some reason, my heart felt like it would stop beating any moment now. It was oddly relaxing, as if I were fading away.

"God, please make me strong enough to fight all the pain in the world," I wished, as the last tear slipped from my eye and my consciousness faded into oblivion.

Upon opening my eyes, the unfamiliarity of my surroundings washed over me like a cool breeze. I have always cherished dreaming, as it offers me a much-needed escape. This feels like yet another lucid dream. "Thank you, God, I really needed this," I say to myself, a wide smile spreading across my face.

The crisp aroma of verdant leaves and the gentle murmur of a nearby river enveloped me, creating an earthy symphony that spoke of untamed nature. Sleeping under the tree felt incredibly therapeutic; I wished I could experience this in my waking life. I took a deep breath, savoring the fresh scent of the natural world around me. Yet, a strange tingle coursed through me.

While I'm no stranger to lucid dreams, this one seemed the most vivid I'd ever had. Without dwelling too much on my thoughts—and with the fear of waking up in my dreadful "home"—I decided to ignore my worries and start exploring this new dream world my consciousness had entered.

I walked to the river flowing nearby to catch a glimpse of myself. My long black hair was a tangled mess, and my tear-stained skin glimmered in the reflection. I look so good after crying, I thought, letting out an innocent chuckle. Joining my hands to form a bowl, I scooped up some water to drink and splash on my face.

For a moment, as I gazed at the girl in the reflection, a sharp pain pierced my heart. She didn't deserve this. The girl with tear-streaked cheeks and tangled hair was a mirror to my pain—a pain I often masked with indifference. Anger boiled within me, simmering just below the surface, ready to erupt at any moment. Yet, despite this growing rage, I felt powerless to act. My nature has always been to be nice, to avoid conflict at all costs. But this is a dream. Here, in this ethereal space, I can do whatever I want, unbound by the chains of reality.