Bab 7: Shadows of the Past
The dream gripped me like a vice, pulling me under. I was eight years old again, trembling in the corner of the room.
"You can't even do the dishes right!" my father's voice roared, sharp and venomous. I flinched as the belt cracked through the air, lashing against my skin. The pain seared like fire, but the fear was worse. His anger was a storm, relentless, crashing over me again and again.
Then came the knock.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The sound was too loud, too deliberate. It cut through his shouting like a blade. My father froze, his shadow stretching long across the room.
"Stay here," he growled.
I don't remember much after that. My legs somehow carried me to my room. I slammed the door shut, locked it, and buried myself under the covers, my body shaking. His voice rose again, this time directed at someone else.
"Get out of my house!" he yelled, but the stranger didn't stop. I couldn't hear footsteps—just my father's panic growing sharper.
And then… silence.
When I finally found the courage to peek out, I wished I hadn't.
The living room was soaked in red. My father's body lay crumpled on the floor, his hands gone, ripped from his shoulders. His chest was a mess of stab wounds, his face frozen in a grotesque mask of pain.
The stranger was gone. I couldn't remember his face. I couldn't hear his thoughts.
I screamed, but no one came.
The memory dissolved into darkness, and I woke up gasping for air. My face was wet, my body trembling like a leaf in the wind.
"It's just a dream," I whispered, but the tightness in my chest wouldn't go away. I sat up, clutching my knees, trying to steady my breathing.
It didn't work.
Morning
I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would snap me out of it. The mirror reflected the same pale, hollow-eyed girl I saw every morning, but now her lips trembled.
"Get it together," I muttered to myself. I shoved a piece of toast in my mouth, barely tasting it, and left for school.
The walk there felt heavier than usual. Every step was a battle to push the dream out of my head. My father. The blood. The stranger. It clung to me like a shadow, refusing to fade.
By the time I reached the classroom, I was exhausted. I scanned the room, avoiding eye contact with anyone, and slipped into my usual spot near the back. The chatter around me was distant, muffled by the storm in my head.
At School
It didn't take long for Liam to make his grand entrance, as usual. He burst into the room like a gust of wind, out of breath and grinning.
"Late again," someone muttered.
"Alarm didn't go off—classic," he said, sliding into the seat next to mine.
I barely noticed him. My thoughts were elsewhere, spiraling. The stranger… I couldn't read his mind either. Just like…
"Ava? Hello?"
His voice startled me, but it wasn't until I felt his hands on my face that I snapped back to the present. His fingers were warm, steady, holding my head gently as he tilted it toward him.
"Hey," he said, his voice softer than I'd ever heard it. "You okay?"
I blinked at him, unsure how to respond. My throat felt tight, so I just nodded.
He stared at me for a moment longer, like he didn't believe me, but then leaned back. His tone flipped back to his usual carefree banter. "So, what are you doing after midterms?"
The question threw me. "Uh… nothing, I guess."
"Great. Wanna hang out?"
The words came out before I could think them through. "Okay."
His grin returned, wide and lopsided. "Awesome. You better not bail on me."
I nodded again, but my thoughts were far away. Why couldn't I say no?
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
Abdul_wadood_0017
Abdul_wadood_0017 omg thanks for so many readers ahhh i cant tell you guys how happy i was, i was in a total shock
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