The night was colder than usual. Inside her room, the air hung still, heavy, suffocating. Aira sat on the edge of her bed, her small frame lost against the backdrop of the wide, dimly lit space. The lamp on the nightstand glowed faintly, but its light seemed too weak to reach her, as though even it refused to touch her anymore.
The silence pressed down on her chest like a weight she couldn't push off. She folded forward slightly, clutching the bedsheet so tightly her knuckles turned pale. Her lips trembled, but she bit down hard until the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.
What did I do wrong? she thought. Why… why does it always have to be me?
No one had knocked on her door. No one had asked how she was, if she was in pain, if she could sleep, if she could breathe without remembering hands pinning her down. After everything—after clawing her way back from hell itself—she had come home not to warmth, not to comfort… but to judgment.
Not one of them had looked at the bruises around her wrists. Not one of them noticed the way her hands trembled when she tried to hold a glass of water. Not one of them cared about the swollen mark across her face.
Earlier That Day
The memory flashed back, sharp and merciless.
Thomas's voice had roared across the room, venom dripping from every word."So this is what you were doing? Bringing shame to our name again?"
Before she could answer, before she could even breathe, his hand struck across her cheek. The sound echoed in the hall—sharp, brutal.
"Thomas, stop! She's hurt!" Lily's voice rang out, panicked.
But Thomas only turned to glare at her, pointing a finger toward Aira like she was filth."Then she should've thought of that before dragging our name in the mud!"
Rayen scoffed from the corner, his arms crossed as though the weight of her existence disgusted him."What kind of girl brings this much trouble wherever she goes?"
And then Sana's voice—quiet, almost mocking, slicing deeper than the slap ever could."Maybe the kidnappers thought she was too easy."
The words hit her like knives, and though Mira tried to intervene—her voice trembling, pleading—"Enough! She didn't ask for this, she—"
Thomas's roar cut her off."Stay out of this, Mira!" He shoved her back with such force she stumbled.
Through it all, Aira didn't move. She didn't cry. Not a single tear fell. She had none left for them. Her face remained blank, a hollow mask, even as her cheek burned red from the slap.
Finally, Mr. Langford's voice broke through, sharp and stern."That's enough! Is this how you treat a girl who barely returned alive?"
Alec's jaw tightened, his hands fisting at his sides. His eyes burned with silent rage as he looked at all of them.You people don't deserve her.
But even their words, even their anger, couldn't silence the accusations that had already cut her to the bone. Aira had heard it all before, too many times to count.
So she walked away. Silent. Up the stairs. And locked herself in her room.
Present
Now, in the emptiness of her room, the memory replayed on a loop until she couldn't breathe anymore. She pressed her face into the pillow, clutching it like it was the only thing keeping her from drowning.
Her chest shook violently. Her teeth clenched. Then—
The scream ripped out of her, muffled into the pillow, raw and desperate. She screamed until her throat burned, until her lungs gave out, until her voice cracked into nothing but gasps and sobs.
But no one heard. No one came.
She collapsed onto the floor, her body curling in on itself. Her fists pounded against the hard wood, again and again, the sound dull and hollow like the beating of her own heart.Why was I born?! What did I ever do to deserve this?! Why… why do they hate me so much?!
Her sobs shook her small body, her nails digging into the floor as if she could claw her way out of her own skin.I begged for love. I begged for warmth. For someone to hold me. But every time I reach out… they break me again. And again. And again.
She dragged herself up to the mirror. Her knees scraped against the floor, but she didn't feel the pain. She stood in front of her reflection, staring at the pale, hollow-eyed girl that stared back.
Her hair was messy, her cheeks swollen from crying, her lips bitten raw. But it wasn't just her face that looked unfamiliar—it was her eyes. They were empty, void of the spark that once made her Aira.
She raised a trembling hand, pressing her palm against the cold glass. Her reflection did the same, the broken girl mirroring her.
Her lips quivered, but her voice was flat, lifeless."You're pathetic…"
A pause. Her gaze hardened, her breath steadying, her body straightening."…but not anymore."
Her eyes turned cold, soulless. A single tear slipped down her cheek, but her face remained stone, emotionless.
"No one is going to hurt you again," she whispered to the girl in the glass.
The silence that followed was different now. Not heavy. Not suffocating. But sharp, like the edge of a blade.
Downstairs
Mr. Langford sat with his head bowed, hands clasped tightly as though in prayer. His heart ached with guilt. That girl… she needs someone. And I won't let her fall again. Not this time.
By the staircase, Alec stood silently, one hand gripping the railing so hard his knuckles whitened. His eyes were fixed on the top of the stairs, on the room where her light had just been extinguished.
I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, he thought bitterly. But I swear to you, Aira… I'll never let them break you again.
And upstairs, behind the locked door, under the suffocating quiet of her own screams, Aira Brown was reborn.
Not with fire.Not with vengeance.
But with silence.
And eyes that no longer cried.