Silent Scars

CHAPTER 18

Ariana sat in her room, staring blankly at the walls, her body sinking into the emptiness. The room felt like a cage, but it was a cage that offered her solace. It was her safe place, a barrier between her and the world outside. She didn’t want anyone in her space, not even the maid who brought her lunch.

The untouched breakfast on the tray was a reminder of her unease. Eating felt impossible, the very thought of it turning her stomach.

Her ribs ached as she sat motionless, and each breath seemed to stretch the fragile limits of her body.

Ariana lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of the day pressed on her. Her body was exhausted, her ribs aching with every breath, yet sleep felt like an impossible luxury. She closed her eyes, willing herself to drift off, but no sooner did her mind begin to quiet than the nightmares returned, vivid and relentless.

The nightmare:

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬, 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱 𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳.

"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘩𝘶𝘩𝘩?" 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭, 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘮.

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥, 𝘢 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘺.

And then she woke, heart pounding, drenched in sweat.

The nightmare stayed with her all day. She couldn't shake it. Her ribs throbbed in protest every time she moved. She tried to sleep again, but the moment she closed her eyes, the memories would resurface. She was caught in a loop, unable to escape.

The one small relief came when Luca visited. His presence was soothing in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

He didn’t push her to talk or pry into her thoughts. He simply sat with her, offering his notepad and pen when words failed her.

Dinner passed in the same quiet unease. She barely ate, but Luca’s consideration made her feel, for the first time in a long while, that someone cared.

When she returned to her room, she felt an unusual pull toward sleep.

Exhaustion overtook her as she lay down, the ache in her ribs making every position uncomfortable.

Finally, after what felt like hours, she drifted off.

But the sleep didn’t last. The sharp pain in her ribs jolted her awake, stealing the air from her lungs. She sat up, gasping. Her chest felt tight, the ache spreading through her body. Her gaze flicked to the painkillers on the bedside table. She reached for them but realized her water glass was empty.

The clock read 2:30 a.m. The house was silent.

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱.

She thought. It was safe to leave her room.

Slowly, she opened the door, her steps tentative. Each movement sent a jolt of pain through her side, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

The stairs felt like a mountain. She gripped the railing tightly, her knuckles white, as she descended. By the time she reached the kitchen, she was trembling, the ache threatening to consume her.

She filled a glass with water, her hand shaking as she swallowed the pill. Relief would take time, but at least she had taken the step. She set the glass down on the counter, her body leaning heavily against the cool surface.

Then she felt it, a hand gripping her forearm, firm and unyielding.

The suddenness of the touch sent a shockwave through her, and the pain in her ribs intensified. The glass slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor. Before she could process what was happening, the hand spun her around.

Her eyes widened in fear as she faced the person holding her, their shadow looming over her in the dim light of the kitchen.