PAST
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"If you are dead, parents won't worry about you." Her lips mumbled, careful enough to not make a sound in the dark. Even as the thought of this alleged crime formed inside her, she smiled—an empty wide smile, carrying no remorse.
Melodie gritted her teeth even as her lips was smiling , the knives pressed tight in her trembling hands. Each step she took towards Melina's bed was slow, deliberate, as though savoring the silence of the night. When she finally knelt beside her sister, she stared at Melina's sleeping face for a long moment, her eyes narrowing with a hatred that burned so sharp it almost lit the darkness.
She raised the knife, holding it steady, and pointing it straight towards Melina's close eyelids, just a centimetre away from touching the lid,"I want to dig out the eyes you look at my parents with," she whispered through clenched teeth, jaw grinding so hard it seemed it might turn to dust.
Gentle—gentle enough not to wake Melina—Melodie wrapped her fingers around her sister's wrist. With a breath that quivered between excitement and rage, she lifted the knife higher, angling it towards the pale, delicate vein that pulsed faintly under her skin. A smile spread wider across her face, wild and uncontainable, at the thought of life without Melina to steal her parents away.
The blade touched skin. The air tightened, heavy with silence—
"Is she sleeping?" Mother's quiet voice echoed suddenly as she stepped into Melina's room.
Melodie jolted, shoving the knife beneath the bed with a swift, practiced movement before turning to her mother.
"Yes, Mom... I know what I said was wrong. She doesn't deserve this." Her voice tried to carry guilt, but her smile told another story. The faint moonlight cut across her face, exposing the devilish curve of her lips—the smile of a wolf disguised as a sheep, which Mother failed to notice.
Mother walked closer, caressing Melina's head, murmuring a soft apology as if to soothe her even in sleep. Then, without suspicion, she gently took Melodie's hand and led her out of the room.
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The morning sun had no mercy.
It seeped through the cracked curtains, flooding the room with a cruel brightness that only deepened the shadows inside. Light was supposed to heal, but here, it only revealed wounds—on skin, on hearts, on everything left unspoken.
Melina sat curled on the edge of the bed, her body aching as though grief had taken physical form. Her breaths came in shudders, her tears streaking her cheeks but offering no relief.
Zara leaned against the headboard at her room.Her eyes, once so sharp, were dulled now—hollow, carrying secrets she never dared voice. Her lips trembled, not from weakness, but from holding back truths that would shatter more than they would mend.
And then there was Theo.
His fist rested on his knee, bruised and raw. Crimson still clung to his knuckles, proof of the war he fought—against the world, against himself. His jaw was locked, his silence louder than any scream.
The sunlight touched them all, but it brought no warmth, no comfort.
It was as if the day had come only to mock them.
They sat there, each alone in their own storm, in their own room, completely detatched from each other physically, yet bound together by the darkness of mind.
The sun hadn't brought light.
It had only shown them how dark their world truly was.
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Melina slung her bag over her shoulder, every muscle in her body aching as though the weight of the night clung to her skin. Her mind was numb, moving only out of habit as her feet carried her down the stairs.
At the dining table, her parents sat exactly as she had left them—same clothes, same silence, only more worn. Their eyes looked sunken, hollowed out overnight, their heads buried in their palms as if the world itself had grown too heavy.
Melina's gaze brushed over them for a fleeting second before she turned away, determined to pass through the room like a ghost.
"Wait…"
Her mother's voice cut through the silence, fragile but enough to make Melina halt mid-step.
She flinched without meaning to, shoulders stiffening as though bracing for impact. The involuntary reaction drew a furrow to her mother's brows, and for a moment guilt flickered in her eyes—guilt that seemed too old, too late.
"I'm sorry," her mother murmured, so softly it barely reached Melina. The words dissolved in the air, almost like they were never meant to be heard.
"Have breakfast before you leave," she tried again, her voice coarse, worn down to threads.
Melina stood frozen, her back to them, unwilling to give the comfort of acknowledgment.
"Please," her mother added at last, the single word breaking under its own weight.
But Melina only tightened her grip on the strap of her bag.
"I'm good," she muttered, her tone clipped, final.
She walked out, resisting the pull of pity, resisting the ache in her chest. She only wanted to escape—to Zara and Dove, to the chaos of college, to friends who didn't make her feel like she was walking on eggshells in her own home.
Anywhere but here.
But as Melina's steps carried her closer to the college gate, closer to the faces she had longed to see, her lungs betrayed her. Tight, shallow breaths scraped her chest, and a sudden rush of panic coiled around her ribs. It felt like she was trapped in a box with no door, no window, no escape—her own body her prison.
Hesitantly, she stepped inside the classroom.
What greeted her wasn't the warm familiarity she had imagined in the sleepless hours of the night. It was Zara.
Zara, seated by the window, posture rigid, presence both near and impossibly far. Her eyes found Melina's instantly, locking onto her with an intensity that should have anchored her—but didn't.
Zara didn't smile. She didn't blink, didn't waver. Yet her eyes glistened with something raw, something unshed.
And for a heartbeat, Melina's chest ached with the urge to cross the distance, to comfort, to say something. But last night still lingered in Melina more than she like to admit, and she didn't know if reaching out would heal—or break—what little they had left.
Something had happened last night.
Zara's gaze dropped. A second, maybe two, passed before she wordlessly slid her bag to the side, to the empty space where Melina's seat had always been.
"Oh."
The single syllable left Melina's lips in a whisper, but it carried the weight of a sob. She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing her body to keep moving. Her feet betrayed her heart as they carried her past Zara's empty seat, past the invitation she couldn't accept, without even a glance.
She slipped into the last row instead, lowering herself into the chair as if retreating into shadows would steady her trembling insides.
Moments later, the door creaked open, and Dove stepped in—her presence a quiet disruption, her eyes scanning the room, unaware of the storm already brewing within it.
Have i done something?
That's it. My visit to their friend group is officially done.
I kept scanning my palm just to avoid Dove's stares shifting from me to Zara. Parents last day gift throbbing her body and now indifference of her friends she made toring Melina apart.
When Melina finally gathered courage to look at dove, she have already left the class. Her bag absent. Only Zara sat besides the window.
..
Later that day Cafeteria looked more dull and alone than any other day. Holding the food tray in her hand Melina's eyes darted towards corners to corners to find a spot to have food in peace.
Even at that.. The absence of her friends overnight.. is gnawing at her.
There have been crack for a while. Zara becoming less and less not talking.. She crying by herself a moment then at the next she is happy..
There have been signs that this friendship is breaking.
It was quick. Melina thought to herself as she made herself to a corner of cafeteria.
Melina doesnt feel like eating, drinking or anything.
As she was hoping this will somehow reconcile, someone pulled the corner chair opposite of melina.
She looked up from food to see who it was.
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