The fall

Chapter 37

Penelope

I had just finished cleaning the training grounds, my hands raw from scrubbing the dirt and sweat off the stone floor. In my head, every inch had to be perfect. Every mark had to be erased. As I stood there, staring at the spotless courtyard, I realized there was no scrubbing away the filth that had crept into my life. No matter how hard I worked to wipe it clean, it was already embedded deep in me. In my soul.

I left the grounds behind me, my steps slow, dragging with the weight of a truth I couldn't escape. The hallway felt colder now, quieter. Every echo of my footsteps seemed louder, like a constant reminder that I was alone. Completely alone.

When I reached my room, I closed the door softly, almost as if afraid that the world outside might hear my breathing. I could already feel it pressing in, the silence, the isolation. The mirror in my bathroom caught my attention almost immediately, like it was waiting for me. I had no desire to look at it. But I couldn't help myself.

I stepped inside the bathroom, and the flickering light above only highlighted the exhaustion in my face. It was like staring at a stranger. My reflection, my own body, felt foreign, like I had been wearing someone else's skin for too long.

I couldn't even recognize the girl I had once been. The girl who trusted. The girl who loved.

I reached my hand up, my fingers grazing the cold metal of the collar around my neck. Completely stripped of the powers that could've freed me. It's a constant reminder that I wasn't free. That I wasn't even allowed to be myself unless the Valortorians needed me.
I felt like a bird in a cage, my wings clipped, unable to fly. I couldn't even escape my own mind. I couldn't even escape myself.

I laughed then, bitter and hollow. I couldn't help it. It was the only thing I could do in this suffocating silence. Laugh at the absurdity of it all. Laugh at how pathetic I had become.

But the laughter died in my throat as quickly as it had come, leaving only a bitter taste. And before I could stop myself, I slammed my fist into the mirror. The glass shattered in an instant, sending jagged shards flying, and I didn't care. I didn't care about the blood trickling down my knuckles. I didn't care about the mess, about the destruction.

I hated it, I hated her—the reflection staring back at me. I hated the girl who had been so naive, so trusting. The girl who thought love was something pure. The girl who still is believing that someone will save her from this hell.

The crimson strands of my hair fell around my face, tangled and wild, and for the first time, I hated it too. The reason I had been used, the reason I had been lied to. In the beginning it made me feel special. But now it felt like a curse.

I lower my head and stared at the broken shards of glass, scattered across the floor. I'm broken, just like these pieces. And I can never be fixed. I kneel down and touch a big shard, tracing my own reflection in it. The thought of killing myself flickers in my mind, If I die then no one gets hurt. Right?

but I the thought of that possibility immediately fades as I collapse to the floor. Laying there as I go numb, silent tears streaming down my cheeks and soaking up the floor. The shards start mingling and getting stuck in my hair—as if they try to erase the curse.
If I were to be judged by the gods above, I just know I'd be guilty.