⚠️ Trigger Warning:
This chapter contains explicit depictions of sexual assault, psychological trauma, suicidal thoughts, and family conflict. It may trigger strong emotional responses. If you're dealing with such trauma or feel vulnerable, please read this with caution or skip it entirely. Take care of yourself — your emotional safety matters more than any story. 🖤
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—I couldn't find a closer parking spot. We'll have to walk a bit more,Bruno said in a calm, controlled tone, glancing over his shoulder at me.
I chose to follow him without saying anything. We had already been walking for a good few minutes. We were moving further and further away from the houses and the people, heading down a path that grew increasingly covered in vegetation. The road was narrowing, flanked by trees with branches bent like arms reaching out.
—Why didn't you just park on the street?I asked, losing my patience.
The cold had seeped into my bones, and the air grew heavier with the eerie scent of the forest. My legs struggled to keep up with Bruno, who was moving faster and faster, his shoes sinking into the muddy trail.
—I don't like crowds. Besides... it's quieter here, he muttered half-heartedly.
I stopped walking.
Bruno walked a few more steps before stopping and turning back toward me, amused.
—What is it? Getting cold feet now, at the end?
I scanned the area with my eyes. The forest felt like it was swallowing us, and the only light came from the moonbeams filtering through the nearly bare branches. A heavy silence settled between us. He shoved his hands into his pockets and scoffed, a hint of irritation crossing his face.
—Come on, Liliana, stop being silly. We're almost there! And it's getting colder already."
As he came closer, I instinctively stepped back, which annoyed him.
—I know we've walked a lot, but we're nearly there — I promise! Don't you trust me?" he insisted, stepping even closer.
—I want to go back," I said in the calmest tone I could manage. My teeth started chattering, and my lips trembled, though I didn't know if it was more from the cold or the fear.
His shoulders dropped abruptly, and the man in front of me sighed, clearly fed up. His expression changed, eyes narrowing as he looked at me. Then, out of nowhere, he took his hands out of his pockets and lunged toward me.
I tried to run, nearly escaping his grip, but he caught me by the hair, pulling a scream from the depths of my throat. He was hunched over my body, trying to wrestle me to the ground, his weight easily overpowering mine. He slammed me hard into the mud, my chin smashing against the ground, biting my tongue until it bled. I flailed, trying to grab onto something, but the dirt slipped through my fingers like slime.
—We'll be done soon if you just stay still, Liliana," he whispered.
He pressed his heavy body against mine, and while I screamed for him to let go, he tucked my hair behind my ear and smelled me like the pervert he was. I lifted my head toward the sky, tears pouring down my cheeks, my jaw clenched. Agonizing sounds came out of my mouth as his hands, violently fast, slid under my clothes, grabbing at my body. With one hand, he tried to pull his pants down; with the other, he held me down. I kept struggling until I managed to turn to face him and grabbed chunks of mud, flinging them straight into his face.
He yelled and cursed — but most importantly, he gave me a few seconds to escape. So I got up and ran without looking back.
Branches clawed at my hair and scratched my face. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. My face was covered in drool, blood, and tears, and my clothes were a mess. Suddenly, a light flashed quickly in front of me. I was close to the road — just a little further.
Behind me, I heard loud rustling and my name being shouted by Bruno. Distracted, I tripped, slamming my knees into some rocks. I screamed from the top of my lungs, unable to move for a few seconds. I knew if I stayed there, he would find me. And maybe I'd never make it home again.
I pulled myself up, clutching onto a tree, and started walking as fast as I could toward the road. I was limping, but I moved. I couldn't afford to stop, not even for a second. My heart pounded in my head like a ticking time bomb. I burst out from the bushes, praying a car would stop when they saw me.
I made it to the middle of the road, looking left and right for a car — anything.
—Oh, come on!" I screamed, exasperated, not realizing my shout might help Bruno find me quicker.
From the other bushes, I heard noises that made me turn in that direction. Bruno, covered in twigs and mud, glared at me with fury and started walking toward me.
Neither of us got the chance to take another step — because from a distance, two headlights caught our attention, and a horn blared loudly.
All I saw was this:
Light.
Then, darkness.
______
I had been staring at the white ceiling for several minutes since I'd opened my eyes. I couldn't move. I didn't even want to blink — as if any gesture would disturb the heavy silence around me. My body felt numb, heavy, foreign. My mouth was dry, and my tongue, rough.
I was lying on a cold bed. To my right, a monotonous buzzing sounded constantly, as if beating a rhythm only the machines could understand. The air I was pulling into my lungs felt like a burden — heavy, thick, as if it didn't want to come in. The smell of bleach and detergents stung my nostrils.
From a distance, voices began to take shape, becoming clearer and clearer, until the door creaked open. If I had any doubts that I was in a hospital, they vanished now. A man in a white coat entered alongside a woman wearing a surgical mask.
—She's awake,the nurse announced in a low voice, speaking to someone out in the hallway.
I followed them with my eyes as they came closer, checking my vitals, asking questions. But everything stopped for me the moment two police officers stepped inside. Their faces were expressionless, neutral — as if they'd come to interrogate a suspect, not protect a victim.
A cold shiver ran up my spine. My mind jumped to my father — to his harsh stare, that cold tone that cut through any sentence. The machine on my right began to beep frantically. It had sensed something. People started moving. My hands moved instinctively, trying to sit up, to run. I didn't know where.
A groan escaped me. I thrashed, but someone gently pushed me back down, and the scream slipped out before I could stop it. I looked around, desperate, searching for a way out, for anything I could use to defend myself.
I felt a prick in my arm. Within seconds, everything began to fade. Outlines blurred. Voices drifted farther and farther away. Until I sank back into darkness.
I don't know how many attempts to wake up had passed. But now, as I opened my eyes again, the room was bathed in soft light. By the window, a woman in a police uniform stood silently, gazing outside with a focused expression.
—Hello, Liliana, she said, turning toward me. She gave me a faint smile.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My throat hurt. Each word felt like a burden. When she saw me struggle, she handed me a glass of water. I took it with both hands, trembling. My muscles still didn't fully obey me.
—You're safe now. You can rest.
—I don't feel... almost anything, I replied with a broken voice.
I don't remember exactly what happened next. More doctors came in, talked among themselves, then left. Only that woman remained with me. As if she was waiting.
She explained in a gentle voice:
—You were sedated. You've been in a coma for two days due to a car accident. You were very lucky.
Lucky.
That word pierced my stomach. If this was luck, I didn't want to know what misfortune looked like.
But no one asked me about Bruno. About what had happened before the accident. It was as if everything had been a dream. A nightmare no one wanted to hear about.
—We contacted your parents... but neither of them is answering. Any idea why?
—No.
I said it flatly. The truth is, I didn't even expect them to answer. Not for me. Not when I really needed them.
She didn't ask anything else. And I said nothing more. She left in silence, and loneliness crept back into the room like a blanket of ice.
I counted the days with a sick kind of obsession. Sometimes on my fingers, sometimes in my mind.
I'd gotten to the point where I could move again, without pain stopping me with every step. Walking had become mechanical, but empty. No voices, no smiles from the staff. The same blank faces, the same rushed steps, the same gazes passing through me like I was a ghost.
The sun... I followed it in silence, from the first glimmer until it melted into the arms of the moon, leaving behind only a gray room. My eyes stayed open, dry, unable to blink, unable to close. I felt breaths, presences behind me or next to me. I saw Bruno in the shadows of the trees and in the reflection of my morning tea. He never left me for a second, and that terrified me. I heard his footsteps, his voice, I felt his touch on my arm every time a nurse adjusted my IV. It made me sick. I wanted to vomit. To scream. To tear myself out of my own skin.
But I did nothing.
I stayed silent.
Like an idiot.
I tried to lie to myself that it was over, but the images of him wouldn't leave my mind. I kept creating all sorts of alternate scenarios with different endings. What would've happened to me if he had caught me that night? He would've taken everything from me—just like now—stealing my peace, my sleep, the last bit of strength I still had left.
I can't see anything beautiful anymore. Not in me, not around me. I can't breathe.
Eventually, just when I thought another day would pass like all the others, the door opened, and the policewoman entered—more upbeat than usual—with my mother following behind. For a moment, my breath caught in my throat. I didn't know whether to get up, run, or close my eyes and pretend she wasn't real.
She looked… different. Her face was tired and drawn, but her clothes were impeccable—not like the last time I found her on the street. Her eyes scanned me from head to toe, then darted to the walls, the window, anywhere but my face. The silence pushed the officer to speak.
—Hello, it looks like you have a visitor.
I sat up in bed without any expression, locking eyes with my mother.
—Well… I'll leave you two to talk. I'm sure you have a lot to discuss.
Her voice was gentle, but tense. She quietly left the room, and only then did I notice what my mother was holding—a suitcase.
I thought I'd feel nothing at the sight of it, but tears stung my eyes, greedy to spill across my cheeks.
Now alone, she walked over and placed the suitcase at the head of my bed, then sat down on the empty one beside mine.
It was an old blue suitcase—I remembered it. The wheels were broken. I stared at it without blinking as the tears kept running down my face. She said nothing at first. Looked at me for a second, then turned her head away, like my gaze hurt her.
—You've lost weight, she finally said.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn't know what to say.
—I brought you some clothes. Just whatever I could find at home. I didn't… I didn't really have time… to pick them properly.
Her voice barely trembled, but the words fell between us like cold stones. I tilted my head down, my forehead resting on my knees, unable to stop crying. I wasn't even sure if I was crying because of what had happened to me, or because my mother was here—but she didn't seem like… my mother.
—Mom… I whispered, torn by fear, longing, and everything left unsaid.
She suddenly stood up like she'd been burned, like she couldn't bear to look at me anymore.
—We can't afford… the hospital, she continued, wringing her hands nervously. We did what we could… but… we can't anymore, Liliana. We're in debt. Bruno… offered to help.
At first, I thought I'd misheard. I looked at her like she was speaking a foreign language.
—What?
—He… wants to take care of you. He talked to your father. He wants to marry you. You'll have everything you need—a home, food, a future. He's a good man, Liliana.
All the air left my lungs. A huge emptiness opened in my stomach, and the world began to spin slowly. I sat up abruptly, breathing heavily, almost gasping.
—You can't do this to me. No, you can't. I don't want this."
I started pushing myself closer to the wall. I was shaking all over, and my mother looked alarmed.
—What's wrong with you, girl? Snap out of it!
She came closer and grabbed both my arms, forcing me to look at her.
—This is the only thing I can still do for you. So you better shut up and thank me, do you hear me?"
—But… you don't understand," I said through sobs. "He's the reason I'm here! I'm here because of him, he… he tried to take advantage of me, Mom!"
A second later, her hand slapped across my face. I felt her desperation and shame directed at me, dragging me deeper into the dark. She pierced me with her gaze before telling me not to say such nonsense and that I'd never see her again.
—I talked to the doctors. You're being discharged tomorrow."
She walked to the door, and with her hand on the handle, she said,
"Bruno will come pick you up tomorrow. Take care."
Then she stormed out of the room, leaving me to sink into the bed, still feeling the heat of her slap burning on my cheek, her fingers etched into my skin.
I was alone again in that white room, with that damn suitcase sitting there like a pit in the middle of my soul.
And with the thought that tomorrow… he will come.
And I can't take this anymore.