[ This chapter contains adult themes and is recommended for mature audiences. Reader discretion is advised. ]
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Memories flashed before her eyes—echoes buried within the lie that everything could still be undone. [ ??? ] candles glistened and birthday songs played. Smoke lingered on the candle she'd blown, a wish for a [ ■•■[]• ■□▪︎[] ] not to reach its ending in the life she'd forgotten.
Her gaze met the interior of the room she resided in. The walls were claimed by dust, the air thick with age, shelves burdened by cobwebs and forgotten books.
Tears blurred her vision, tracing over bruises that hadn't yet learned to fade.
She sought comfort in this very room—a place once abandoned, now something that kept the demons from barging in.
From beyond the basement door came voices—broken, jagged, unrelenting. The kind of noise that no longer belonged to anger, but to something heavier.
Despair.
Where tape wasn't enough to keep things together anymore.
Her mother's voice trembled behind the door, trying to win an argument that screamed in ghosts. Her father's voice rose to meet it, wrapped in liquor and something she no longer recognized as love.
[ BaNG! ]
Something shattered.
And another.
Until the sound blurred what little hope she kept.
She folded into herself, knees drawn close, breath coming in ragged bursts. The wooden floor was cold—almost kind.
She tried to remember what happened.
There was a man—her father, who blew his birthday candles to wish for his daughter's happiness.
[ Or perhaps she made that up. ]
Perhaps she only wanted to believe warmth had ever existed here.
He used to work tirelessly, saving what he had to give her the smallest, yet biggest joys. Yet when she recalled that memory, she felt none of its warmth.
Because the truth she could not rewrite was that in the end, he threw everything away.
Not to bring us to shore, but to prove to the sea that he could swim. And in chasing what he lost, he forgot what was once his prized possession.
[ After that, the lights were always on, even if no one was awake. ]
He delved into addiction, kept himself away from them to spare himself regret. He did all of this just to forget he was ever a father.
After being replaced by his employer's cousin, he sought to prove himself against a world that had already forgotten him.
The company itself was dying, cutting lives loose like broken branches, hoping the tree would survive the rot.
And her mother, who once braided her hair and told her stories so she could sleep—had let another man touch her.
After witnessing the downfall of her husband, she realized the rope that kept him from falling had finally… broken.
And in that moment of vulnerability, she chose someone more capable of holding himself together—or perhaps someone who hadn't fallen at all.
Her eyes only sparked when she relished the riches that came from another man.
[ .... ]
Yet even when she saw her mother break, she clung to the lie that it was for them.
It hurt less that way.
She thought it was a sacrifice to keep food on the table—until she saw it wasn't love, but obligation.
How her mother whispered when she could have screamed. How she stood there, watching.
And when she thought silence, thin and fragile, settled beyond the door, It broke witha [ Creak ]—
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[ *TiRiNg, rinG, TiRIrinG* ]
My alarm clock rang.
I instinctively let my hands reach for the snooze button.
I found the confines of that dream mesmerizing yet uncanny, both at the same time. So while the wake of dawn was still upon me, I tried to go back to that very dream I found quite endearing.
[ *TiRIrinG, TrInG, TiRINg* ]
Dang.
"....Wow, that was such a cliffhanger."
I groaned, reaching my hand to stop the alarm from blaring.
The dream, though, didn't appear again.
[ Tick, Tock, Tick Tock ]
My gaze fell upon the clock near my desk. Its hands slowly ticked, signaling the steady flow of time—reminding me I shouldn't idle here any longer.
"I guess it's time for school...Ugh.."
I pushed myself out of bed and headed downstairs.
I had a sly grin on my face. Why wouldn't I? Today was my 14th birthday. I found myself hopping down the stairs unable to hide my excitement.
The moment I reached the kitchen, my breath hitched. I caught the smell of something. A lingering scent of fried chicken lingering in the air. I could almost taste the crunch in my mouth.
I shook the thoughts aside...for now.
"Yeah... I should go shower first."
Dragging myself away from temptation, I hurried to the bathroom, letting the warm water wash away the remnants of my dream.
[ Minutes Passed. ]
With my clothes changed to my usual uniform, I hurriedly made my way to the dining table.
[ Crunch ]
Ah yes. My salvation—Fried Chicken. I devoured and savored every bite like I was in heaven.
My mom, who sat across from me, teased the way I ate like it was my last meal. Yet, her gaze remained on me, asking a question I had no answer to.
"Soo.. who are you planning to invite this late afternoon?"
I just stared at my fried chicken, answering ambiguously. I did have someone in mind, yet the thoughts of asking her again felt daunting, as if the mere idea would crack my self-esteem.
"You'll have to see, Mom."
She nodded, a warm smile forming on her lips.
[ Minutes passed ]
I was already ready by then, tugging the red ribbon on my uniform.
Mom handed me a lunchbox. As I peeked inside, there were exactly three chicken legs, all cooked to perfection. She said one or two extras for my friend(s).
"Thanks, mom."
I said while waving her goodbye.
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Before heading to school, I took my usual route through a small alley—
The houses stood only a few meters apart, with a wide path where no home dared to trespass. The air was thick with the smell of rotting garbage. Puddles from last night's rain reflected the blue sky above, and broken glass scattered the ground trying to erase the past.
Since our house wasn't so far apart, we usually went to school t■gether. We didn't plan it or anything really, just a mutually beneficial deal we both understood without words.
Yet, while I was walking down the alley, my gaze spotted something—or rather, someone. There, tucked against a crumbling brick wall, lay a black-furred cat. She was in quite a predicament, looking fragile in her small frame.
I often encountered her roaming around this alley. Although, she was never this badly injured before.
Compared to how I remembered her, bruises covered her body like flames. Her once dirtied coat was now matted with blood, along with scratches daring to mark her thin frame.
Her scent reeked of blood, with her ribs pressed painfully against her skin.
[ What co■ld've ha■pened? ]
I studied her a little further, feeling a sense of sympathy—or in my words, responsibility. I wasn't exactly a saint, but I was afraid to share my fried chicken with "friends".
And so, with the soft clink of my lunchbox opening, I decided to give her two out of the three pieces Mom gave me. I placed them in front of her, a few inches away from her frail shape.
I watched her slowly, yet hesitantly, walk toward the food. I thought she'd pounce on it right away, but I understood her hesitation. Kindness, when given away like it was free, can feel like a trap disguised as compassion.
I didn't dwell on her figure for long, finally making my way to where I was headed. Though curiosity piqued, and I turned back one last time.
A suffering seen, yet hidden at the same time.
[]■WhAt■HaPpENed?[]
I took that into consideration, but decided it wasn't worth digging too much. It was probably caused by the slow corrosion of nature. Besides, who would do such a thing when laws are placed to forbid it from happening?
I glanced toward the end of the alleyway. I still had someone to meet—someone who reminded me that I still had someone to look for.
[ Was it a FrnEid? ]
A ■•■?■■ of mine.
Yet something was tugging me at the back of my mind while I walked.
Who C[]N I invite?