The Death of Lian Core

Chapter 2

"You know you shouldn't do this," Martha stood firm, her arms crossed and her face twisted in anger.

"You're setting a bad example for the other girls. Dating at your age, and with a poor boy, no less. He's probably going to turn to drugs when he's older," she spat, her voice rising.

Lian's eyes flashed with defiance. "He would never do that. You have no right to talk badly about him." Her hands curled into fists, her voice sharp.

The air was electric with tension as the two women stood facing each other, their words hanging like a challenge. I, Tana, held my breath from my hiding spot behind the thick curtain, the distance between us not enough to dilute the intensity of the moment.

Martha's face turned a deep shade of red, her eyes bulging as she struggled to respond to Lian's retort. But whatever Lian had said, it seemed to have rendered Martha speechless. The silence was palpable, heavy with unspoken words.

Then, in a sudden burst of fury, Martha's hands shot out, grasping Lian's hair in a tight grip. She let out a blood-curdling scream, her face contorted in rage. The sound sent shivers down my spine as I watched, frozen, from my hiding spot.

In a swift motion, Martha snatched a nearby wooden stool and hurled it to the floor, the crash echoing through the room. The stool shattered into pieces, the sound of splintering wood mingling with Martha's crazed screams. Lian's eyes widened in shock, her face pale as she took a step back, her hands raised in a futile attempt to calm the storm.

"You think he loves you? Love is just a game, and I hold all the cards. I can make him forget you, make him wish he never met you. You’ll be nothing but a ghost in his memory." Martha’s voice dripped with venom, each word laced with malice.

Lian’s face fell, hurt flashing across her features as Martha’s words struck deep. The warmth of her feelings for the boy she liked suddenly felt fragile, as if they could shatter at any moment under the weight of Martha's cruel intentions. "You don’t know anything about us," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain.

Martha stepped closer, her eyes glinting with a manic intensity. Without warning, she seized Lian's wrist, her grip like iron. "Come with me," she commanded, pulling Lian towards the shadows that loomed at the edge of the room.

The two girls disappeared into the darkness, their figures swallowed by the gloom. I remained frozen behind the curtain, my heart racing as panic surged through me. I was the first to know about Lian's secret relationship, and now I felt the weight of that knowledge pressing down on me like a heavy shroud.

What if Martha did something terrible? The scenes played out in my mind like a horror movie—Lian crying, begging for mercy, Martha’s laughter echoing in the silence. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, each beat a frantic reminder of the danger Lian was in.

Instinct kicked in, a primal urge to flee. My body screamed at me to run, to escape this nightmare unfolding just beyond the curtain. I could pretend I hadn’t heard anything, that I hadn’t witnessed this confrontation. But the thought of Lian in danger gnawed at me, a relentless whisper that wouldn’t let go.

As I stood there, torn between fear and the urge to help, I felt the first tendrils of anxiety creeping in. My breath quickened, and I fought to steady myself, but my mind raced with images of what could happen next. I could feel the walls closing in, the air growing thick and suffocating.

And yet, in that moment of chaos, my brain was sending frantic signals to my heart, urging it to calm down, to just walk away. Maybe it was self-preservation, a survival instinct telling me to avoid whatever storm was brewing. But could I really just stand by and do nothing?

With a deep breath, I made my choice. I turned and ran, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew that I had to trust that Lian would find a way to handle this, that everything would be okay eventually. Sometimes, stepping back was the only way to find clarity.

As I fled the scene, I held onto the hope that Lian would be strong enough to face Martha, that she would emerge from the shadows unscathed. I promised myself that I would be there for her when she did, ready to support her through whatever came next.