"Damn it!" Melissa cursed angrily, watching the sky grow more aggressive. Dark clouds began to cover the bright sun, and the cold wind enveloped everyone in an icy embrace. Elizabeth started to shiver slightly from the cold, but nestled in Robert's warm embrace, she felt better. Terry had perked up his ears, watching the change in the weather, resting his head on Alexander's legs, who gently petted him. The little animal hated this gloomy weather—hated rain and thunderstorms. At home, it would hide and sometimes bark here and there. Feeling the touch of his owner, he was calmer but still on alert.

"A storm is going to hit us," Courtney remarked, taking a sip of cold water. Her sea-blue eyes followed the angry clouds, predicting the seriousness. They were furrowed and serious, and thunderclaps were already heard in the distance. Constantine instantly got to his feet, and along with a few others from the group, began packing everything up. They had to act quickly because the storm was very close, and the distance to the cars was not short at all.

"Come on, Liz" Robert kissed the top of his younger sister's head, and the two of them got up from the soft blanket.

Melissa, on her part, grabbed the blue cooler bag and slung it over her shoulder. Courtney began packing the blankets into the backpacks, while Chloe started collecting the leftover trash. The boys shouldered the heavy backpacks onto their backs. Robert cautiously approached the blonde-haired Melissa and said:

 "Give me the bag."

A warm smile appeared on the girl's face—Robert had been taught never to let a woman carry something when he was around. He slung the cooler bag over his shoulder, and with his other free hand, he took the hand of the younger Elizabeth. The curly-haired girl obediently stood behind him, feeling protected. The group was ready with packing up. Constantine and Alexander, accompanied by Terry, were at the front, leading the others. The dark-haired man spoke up: 

"Come on, idiots! It's time for more fun!"

The hint of obvious sarcasm caused the entire group to burst into loud, contagious laughter. The friends walked together toward the gorge, silently praying that the storm would show some mercy, hold off for just a bit. However, that wasn't the case—a heavy, icy rain began pouring down on the unsuspecting group. Mother Nature had her sad days too—not everything was perfect, just like in life. The rain came down with full force on the majestic mountains, and the thunderclaps drew closer and closer to the group. Courtney started to lag behind more and more—when she was cold, she almost always slowed her pace. Colin, who was also at the back, suddenly turned to see where she was—seeing her shivering, fragile figure in the distance, he began to walk towards her. Just as he was about to reach Courtney and try to warm her up, as much as that was possible, a loud whistle was heard. Everyone turned toward the sound—Constantine had decided to joke with the group again, sensing everyone's darkening mood.

"Colin the Romantic!" his loud voice echoed through everyone's ears. "We all know you've liked Courtney since the eleventh grade, but come on! There's a storm!"

The entire group burst into contagious laughter, defying the terrible, relentless rain and the frightening thunder. Courtney's cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson, and she buried her face in the boy's chest. He, in turn, raised his middle finger high in the air, smiling broadly. Somehow, the two had gotten used to the jokes and the group's attempts to set them up and now responded with a sense of mockery.

"That finger...you know where—"

Terry started barking irritably, staring into Constantine's dark eyes. He wasn't one of the most patient dogs in the world and wanted to find a warm shelter as soon as possible or not waste time reaching the gorge. Constantine, in turn, began making barking sounds to mimic the little dog and tease him.

"Terry, bite his ass!" Elizabeth shouted loudly, laughing uncontrollably. Hearing his favorite female voice, the dog perked up his ears and quickly trotted toward the girl. Standing on his hind legs, he pulled her into a hug, and his big tongue began showering kisses on her cold, wet face. Her brother Robert's lips curved into a wide smile, lighting up his entire face.

Courtney and Colin managed to catch up to their friends, embraced and cheerful. The group started walking together again through the beautiful mountains, laughing. The girls even started singing again—Mad Love was the first song in their repertoire. Their beautiful voices began to color the gloomy atmosphere, and the boys enjoyed it, which significantly lifted their spirits. The blonde Alexander even joined in, goofing around and jumping about. Terry, too, started hopping around his owner—it was a form of play for him. Everyone's smiles were bright and unwavering, despite the nasty, rainy weather. Who could stop them?

Before long, something interesting caught the attention of Alexander and Constantine—a small wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere. The house was medium-sized, with a beautiful wooden exterior and a welcoming appearance. The two boys exchanged a glance, as if immediately reading each other's thoughts—this needed to be checked out. Terry trotted ahead and began sniffing around curiously, making sure there was no danger. Constantine looked through the large window—it was empty and dark inside, with no sign of anyone.

"This is where we'll stay!" he whispered quietly and tried the door handle, but with no success. It was locked. However, the stubbornness in his heart didn't like that. The boy laughed again and said mockingly, 

"THIS IS WHERE WE'LL STAY!" His strong leg kicked the door fiercely, and it swung open before them. Elizabeth felt a wave of joy, but also guilt. She didn't admit it to anyone.

Inside, the house was beautiful—the dark wooden interior, combined with antique furniture, was charming. A large stone fireplace adorned the living room, with stacks of wood neatly arranged on either side. The tall windows, framed with heavy plush curtains, let in soft light that cast warm reflections on the polished wooden floors. The walls were adorned with faded paintings, their solid oak frames bearing witness to times gone by. On one side of the room, there was a huge carved cabinet filled with antique books and porcelain figurines, each seemingly telling its own story.

The ceiling, supported by massive beams, gave a sense of security and stability, and the faint scent of wax and old wood added a touch of nostalgia. On the floor in front of the fireplace was a handwoven rug with a delicate pattern, its colors slightly faded with time. The living room had a small table and two large, antique, but comfortable sofas. Every corner of the house radiated warmth and coziness.

"Don't thank me. I know you're grateful," Constantine joked. "Let's get the fireplace going."

Alexander and Robert joined him to light the large fireplace. The girls settled onto the big sofa, waiting for them. Robert had left the cooler bag on the floor—it still had sandwiches and water inside. Kristina had made a large batch of sandwiches so that there would be enough for everyone and no one would feel left out. In this unpleasant situation, everyone was very grateful to have food and water, and now even shelter.

The fire in the fireplace began to blaze, filling the cabin with warmth and coziness. Gradually, the cold caused by the icy storm outside started to fade. The flames crackled loudly. Elizabeth watched the fire and smiled—she was with her favorite people, it was pouring rain outside, and she was wrapped in a warm, cozy embrace. Despite the ugly scene outside, something beautiful had been found, like an unforgettable memory.

The three boys made themselves comfortable with the rest of the group—Alexander and Robert sat next to Elizabeth, while Constantine settled beside Courtney, who had rested her head on Colin's shoulder to take a break. Robert's muscular arm wrapped around Elizabeth's fragile shoulders, and she turned her head toward him—two pairs of wood-brown and forest-green eyes gazed into each other. A smile played on the girl's face as her older brother gently kissed her forehead.

The boys laid out all the remaining food and carefully arranged it on the table, along with a few bags of chips and some leftover meat from the party the night before. Everyone began to eat, satisfying their hunger and exhaustion from the wonderful hike. Although they were tired and annoyed by the storm, which continued to rage through the mountains with full force, they regretted nothing—the day had been fantastic. Elizabeth started munching on a sandwich, and Terry sat next to her, watching her, trying to beg for a bite. Alexander was used to this and just rolled his eyes.

Chloe sat on the opposite sofa, settling next to Naomi—her long blonde hair cascaded calmly down her back, and her brown eyes analyzed the cabin. Having grown up with her grandparents, she felt like she was at home, but she was far away.

"Let's play truth or dare" she suggested again, this time laughing at her own suggestion. She got the same reaction from everyone, but Robert remained more reserved—no laugh escaped his lips, nor did his eyes flicker with excitement. Elizabeth noticed this and squeezed her brother's hand, which was significantly larger than hers.

"Elizabeth, what's your worst experience during sex?" Constantine exclaimed loudly, once again causing their friends to burst into laughter. A loud laugh escaped from the curly-haired girl—she was already taking the situation as a joke. Everything seems too scary at the moment.

"Enough with the nonsense,you all." the girl said, continuing to laugh. Her laughter even reached her brother—he even covered his blushing face with his warm hands.

"Jokes aside, guys." Chloe said, flipping her long hair off her delicate shoulders. Her mind began to think—she didn't want some silly question or something mocking. It was as if here, in this unfamiliar beautiful house, by this lit fireplace—the place wasn't suitable.

"What is your greatest pain?"

The whole house was engulfed in a grave silence, with only the crackling of the roaring fire in the fireplace echoing around. Terry slept peacefully at Alexander's feet, oblivious to the thunder and the cold rain outside. A sense of calm had settled over the small group.

Chloe cracked her knuckles and spoke up, her voice tinged with pain:

"I'll start." The blonde bit her lips painfully. "My mom and dad abandoned me when I was born. They had dreams of building their careers and living together. They left me with my grandparents on our farm. To this day, I've never seen them."

Her grandparents lived far away in Pennsylvania—they owned a farm where they raised horses and cows. Chloe grew up there—her parents had left her because they were still teenagers and wanted to live their lives. For them, having a child at such a young age was a mistake. Chloe's mother made the firm decision to leave with her father for Berlin, where they would pursue their careers. This decision nearly broke Chloe's grandfather.
Despite the hardships, her grandparents raised her as their own—giving her incredible upbringing and an incomparable childhood. She never regretted having a different fate from most of her peers.

A wave of regret washed over her, and her heart ached in her chest. She didn't even know her parents' names, nor had she ever seen them. She didn't know what path they had taken or if they were still together. She didn't know if they had achieved their dreams and if it was truly worth abandoning her.

No child deserves to be disowned by their parents, no matter what. This brought her immense pain and insecurity—the fear of abandonment seemed to control her mind. To this day, one question kept her up at night, robbing her of sleep—What had she done to deserve this?

"Don't your grandparents ever talk about them? Don't they hear from them?" Constantine asked softly, looking at the sad girl.

"They were clear—if they left this house, they no longer had a daughter. And that's been the case for twenty-three years now."

Constantine nodded faintly and leaned back on the sofa. Chloe sighed and continued:

"I tried to find my mom just once, but I couldn't. To me, that was a sign that what's meant for you will always find you."

Naomi, who was sitting next to her, pulled her into a brief hug. Tears began to roll from Chloe's brown eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She didn't want to show weakness—that was her lesson.

Naomi took a deep breath before starting her story. Starting to pick at her nails, she said:

"My greatest pain is that, as a child, I've always struggled with people's ridicule and bullying, whether because of my skin color or my weight... without them knowing that I actually have a condition."

Naomi suffered from polycystic ovary syndrome—a severe hormonal issue found in women. The most common symptoms were hair loss, fatigue, extremely long and painful menstruation, and weight gain.
Despite leading a healthy lifestyle and exercising, the condition had consumed almost her entire life. People mocked her for her weight—making ugly comments about her body and the way she dressed. They also loved to make fun of her skin color—Naomi was Black, and racism was unfortunately still very common.

Ugly, but that was the truth.

"Very few people know about my condition, and yet they still talk."
"You're fat."
"Lose weight."
"God, why are you wearing those clothes?"

Bitter tears welled up in the young girl's eyes—she had heard many hurtful words directed at her, words that felt like sharp knives in her heart. The fact that people spoke and insulted without knowing your story was frightening. Few knew about the multitude of medications, the horrific menstrual pain, the fainting spells, or the amount of hair she was losing. It was terrifying.

"They don't know that when my cycle starts, I'm scared to go to work or even leave the house. They don't know that I don't eat unhealthily, that I don't drink much alcohol, that I take all sorts of medications and supplements. They don't know, they know nothing!"

The girl's voice cracked with each sad word she spoke, and she continued to aggressively wipe away her tears. She was afraid of Michael's reaction—even though she had shared her condition with him, she had never gone into such detail. Michael, for his part, looked at her silently, waiting for her to finish her thought. His gentle lips touched her forehead, and she looked at him—she saw pain in his beautiful eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just—"

"Don't apologize." Michael interrupted her, pulling her close to his chest. "I'm here for you."

He kissed her forehead tenderly once more, and his free hand began to gently stroke her tear-streaked face. Two pairs of warm brown eyes gazed into each other, filled with emotions and concern. Naomi rested her head against his chest, snuggling closer, feeling a little better. Michael had told her from the very beginning that he would support her and that he wouldn't let her fight this battle alone. Hearing more about her struggles, he felt even closer to her.

"My greatest pain is... that my parents are wealthy," Michael began, continuing to gently stroke Naomi. "Since I was a child, I've always had everything. My parents never denied me anything—trips, whims, expensive things."

"I don't understand why that should be a pain," Melissa replied irritably, taking a large bite of her sandwich.

"Because people use me."

A trace of helplessness and sadness was evident in his beautiful eyes.

"When you have money, you have many friends. When you don't have money, you have no friends. People claim they're there for you when they have something to gain. You pay, you drive them around, you're always available."

Robert and Elizabeth nodded in agreement. Their family was certainly not as wealthy as Michael's, but they had witnessed similar treatment towards their own parents. Being used for your resources was very sad.

"When you need something, they tell you to 'fuck off.' I don't want people to use me because I have money. I want people to look beyond that, to see me as a person."

Naomi squeezed his hand in hers—she had managed to see the beauty in him, while others saw only the resources. He was used, but also heavily judged—people thought of him as a spoiled brat, unserious, or too immature. Somehow, despite others' quick and mistaken judgments, she saw something different—his honesty and kindness were immense. Even if her words might sound cliché to others, the girl was sure he was different.

After the boy's confession, Courtney was left with mixed feelings. Her sea-blue eyes were fixed on them, and part of her was internally blinded by a small, wistful joy, but the other part remained skeptical. The constant dilemma never went away, making her waver.
She never saw him as the right guy for soft-hearted Naomi, but right now, in this unknown beautifil cabin in the mountains, she was able to see everyone in a different light. What Michael shared with everyone here made her question her own motives.

Naomi gave Michael a loud kiss on the cheek, and a second later, her lips curled into a beautiful smile. His eyes roamed over her—over her beautiful face, over her whole body, which despite all the blows and mockery, was perfect to him.

Colin cleared his throat—he had been troubled by a persistent cough, which was not pleasant for him at all. He took a deep breath and said:

"I'm happy with the life I'm living right now... but I'm too afraid for the future."

Colin struggled with anxiety and overthinking—he worried excessively about things, overanalyzed every detail, and often had sleepless nights. To him, life was like a painting—the way you paint it is how you will view it. Currently, the young man was studying criminology at university and working part-time as a food delivery driver. He managed on his own, with the support of his parents who backed him unconditionally. He had great friends who brought joy into his life and stood by him.

The fear of not knowing what tomorrow would bring was like a powerful hand mercilessly squeezing his throat.

"Why are you afraid of the future?"

"The problem is only ten percent, and ninety percent is how you handle it, how much influence you let it have on you," Konstantin responded to his friend's words. "You've always been very anxious."

"Well, yes, that's true. Even seeing therapists when I was young didn't really help much."

His anxiety had taken up a significant part of his daily life, but he had learned to live with it, even though he sometimes struggled. His anxiety had caused him shortness of breath, shaking, and even an inability to act, but he had promised himself not to let it break him.
Very few people understood his problem—sometimes he became the target of ridicule, being called "too sensitive" or people pretending to be wise by saying incorrect things. Perhaps this also reached his consciousness, but not more than that.

Colin had dreams to fulfill, a future to build—let people talk, and he would show what he was capable of. He would close their filthy mouths for good.

Courtney's face flushed with a bitter realization that it was her turn to share her greatest pain. Hot tears welled up in her eyes, and her hands began to tremble uncontrollably. Colin immediately noticed this and took her hands in his. As she felt ready to utter the horrifying words that had been circling her mind, she took a deep breath and said:

"My mom and dad don't love me."

Those words seemed to cut deep into her soul. Despite the pain, Courtney continued:

"Every day, I feel like I don't exist, like I'm just a mistake to them. My parents neglect and torment me as if I'm not worthy of their love. They constantly remind me that I shouldn't have been born, that I'm a burden to them. It's so hard to live in a world where those who should love me the most are the source of my pain."

Her words echoed painfully against the backdrop of the smoldering fire.

"I ran away from home," the dark-haired girl cried. "I got a job at a hookah bar where they don't pay me on time... and I live in a horrible apartment with a roommate who brings different men over every night. It's terribly hard, but I don't want to live where I'm not loved and wanted."

Elizabeth's forest-green eyes also filled with tears—she had witnessed all the disdain Courtney's parents had for her. She had always tried to be there for her, to show her that, despite everything, she was loved. She wasn't at fault for anything—she was just a child seeking love and support, and all she received in return was indifference and abuse. What could a small being be guilty of?

"Despite everything, I had one dream—to become a makeup artist and cosmetologist. For years, I saved every penny to enroll in courses and buy the necessary materials. But even that was taken from me—my parents took all my savings as if I had no right to my dreams. Because of them, I turned to drinking. Now that I'm away from them, I know I'll achieve my dream. Screw those stupid bastards!"

Courtney took a deep breath—somehow, by speaking these words out loud, sharing the greatest obstacle of her life, it felt as if the burden was lifted from her, from her soul, from her body. The girl felt lighter and prouder—she had stopped forgiving and had left, embarking on a difficult path. How much strength does it take to do that?

"My greatest pain is that someone I thought was close to me tried to rape me," Patricia began, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I was alone and just needed someone close, some comfort—my mom and dad were fighting over money again, and the word 'divorce' was heard at least thirty-five times. I wanted nothing more than a little support."

Her beautiful eyes began to dart around anxiously as her mind replayed every moment of the horrific assault, as if it were a film. She remembered his hands—one holding hers above her head, keeping her still while he enjoyed himself, and the other making its way to her underwear. His thick lips pressing into her neck, sucking on her soft skin, leaving wet blue marks. Her screams, unheard by anyone. The helplessness that had enveloped her in a suffocating embrace.

Patricia felt her entire body freeze in terror, and bitter tears began to fall from her eyes—her once-beautiful face now painted with pain and helplessness as the memories made their way back to her. Megan, standing beside her, pulled her into an embrace, trying to calm her, to erase the horrifying memories that stormed through her mind like a snowstorm. The warm embrace brought a touch of peace to the wounded Patricia, who was overwhelmed by her chilling memories—ones she would have to live with for the rest of her days. Memories of violence and betrayal. No one can hurt you as deeply as someone close to you.

"My greatest pain is Alvin leaving," Megan spoke uncertainly, managing a warm smile. "On the day he told me he was leaving, I actually wanted to tell him that I love him."

Alvin had been part of the close-knit group of friends who were always together. However, he decided to pursue his dream of studying law in the Netherlands, and he had already left. This decision was hard for both him and his friends, who struggled with the separation. They felt hurt and lost without him. Alvin also felt sadness, but he was determined to follow his dreams and grow in his new environment. Now he was separated from everyone, but not from their hearts.

"My hardest time was when my father lost his job," Konstantin said quietly. "I was very young, maybe four years old. My mother worked as a food delivery driver, and we barely made ends meet."

"Oh my God, you were just a child," Colin whispered, his voice filled with distress.

"I ate cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Some days, I didn't eat at all. My mother was barely managing, and my father was devastated, unable to get back on his feet due to depression and panic attacks. My older brother and I sold lemonade on the street to help our family in any way we could."

"How is your family now? Are you doing better?" Elizabeth asked, looking at Konstantin thoughtfully. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen him so pensive and sad—he was always smiling, always laughing loudly. But behind his constant happiness were hidden sorrows.

"Everything is fine now. My mother completed her studies in history and geography, and she's now a teacher. My father works as a construction engineer for a new company. Our family is close-knit because we stayed together through the hardest times. The darkest days bring the brightest light."

The dark-haired young man took a deep breath and leaned back on the comfortable couch, reflecting on the past. Perhaps many things shouldn't have happened the way they did... but, damn it, they did. Those who try to escape their fate are the real cowards.

"My greatest pain is that I was born without a uterus," Melissa spoke, her face showing her embarrassment. "I can't have children. I can't leave something meaningful behind."

Her blue eyes fixed on the floor—Melissa had always been ashamed of this fact about herself. The girl pursed her lips in distress, lacking the strength to say anything more.

"You're not a real woman."
"Don't define yourself as a woman."

"I've always been ashamed of this. I fear the moment I find someone—what will I tell them? How will we move forward, what kind of family will we build if I can't conceive? Will they leave?"

"The right person won't leave, no matter how hard it is," Robert said, looking at the troubled Melissa. The blonde young man lifted his head, and their eyes met. A warm smile played on his face—he wanted to comfort her. Robert knew much more than the others did.

"The right person stays and loves you for who you are. Never chase away someone who isn't ready to love you entirely. You're wonderful just as you are."

Melissa swallowed, trying to dissolve the lump in her throat. Robert's words began to replay in her mind like a song from a music box. Her shame made her feel weak and uncertain, making her believe those terrible words that she didn't deserve to be a woman.

"If you can't give birth to a child, then you're not a woman."

Robert's eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice tinged with a raw, lingering hurt. 

"My greatest pain was Anastasia," he began, his expression growing somber. Elizabeth's audible sigh of irritation was lost on him as he continued. 

"She was someone I poured so much of myself into. I believed in her, in us. I invested my heart, my time—trying to make her happy, even when she showed me nothing but disdain. Her criticism was constant, her support nonexistent. She never cared about my dreams, my passions. Instead, she dragged me into a world where I felt suffocated and out of place."

Robert's eyes reflected a deep, unresolved sadness.

 "I thought I was building something real, but she took that and crushed it. I thought I was loving her in a way that would be reciprocated, but instead, all I got was a painful reminder of my own naivety. The scars she left behind aren't just emotional; they're a testament to how she shattered my belief in love and trust. The pain of realizing that I gave everything for someone who never deserved it—that's what hurts the most."

The brunette sighed in frustration, momentarily broken by memories and pain. Elizabeth squeezed his hand in hers, a gesture of endless support, her green eyes locked onto him with profound love.

"My greatest pain was the bullying I endured at school," she began. "Everyone mocked me for drawing, tearing up my artwork, stealing my sketchbooks or art supplies."

Elizabeth remembered it all in an instant—how she had been bullied as a child, and no matter what she did or whom she confided in, nothing helped. Unfortunately, it even escalated to violence— the scar on her left knee was from an attack by another child.

"They mocked me because I was too skinny."

"God, you can see your bones!"
"Disgusting skeleton!"
"Don't your mom and dad feed you?"

"Kids called me names that cut deep, leaving scars that aren't visible but are felt. I tried to fill the emptiness inside me with food, stuffing myself to the point of pain, thinking it would make the hurt stop, that I'd gain weight. But instead, I found myself trapped in bulimia—running from the pain only to end up in an even harsher battle with myself."

Robert took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on her flushed face. Every contour and gleam of her face was familiar to him because he had seen and experienced all her suffering alongside her. He had wiped tears from her beautiful eyes more than once, feeling her pain as if it were his own. Time and again, he had sacrificed himself, putting his heart on the line, just to protect her and safeguard her feelings. And he knew he would do it again, without hesitation, if fate demanded it of him. No one loved her like Robert did.

"I never want to go back to that."

The curly-haired girl nestled closer to her brother, feeling his protection wrap around her in a warm embrace. Her heart beat loudly in her chest, as if it were ready to leap out.

Alexander squinted in pain, so many words dancing in his wounded mind, but his mouth remained closed, unable to speak. His sea-blue eyes filled with tears that slowly trickled down his pale face. Taking a deep breath, his voice sounded tortured in the small, unfamiliar house:

"My greatest pain was when my mother left us too soon." His voice cracked like shattered glass.

"I was eleven when I found her... She was lying in the bathroom, cold and motionless, and my world fell apart in that moment. I wasn't prepared for such a loss, and even though eight years have passed, I still remember that day. It just won't leave me."

His face was wet with bitter tears—the pain felt like it was stabbing him with a knife. His heart was pounding so aggressively in his chest that even Alexander could hear it. The pain mingled with his blood, making him shiver uncontrollably.

"I... I can't."

The young boy immediately got up from the couch and walked toward the front door—the tension he felt was choking him. His entire body was numb, and a hard lump was lodged in his throat. Feeling the need for air, he hurried outside.

The cold wind wrapped him in its embrace, soothing the fire burning in his soul. A fire, scorched by pain and loss. A fire that had burned within him for so many years, but seemed never to die down.

"God, why her?"
"God, why did you take her from me?"

Alexander sat on the cold ground, giving strength to his crying—hot tears streamed down his face like fierce waterfalls, flushed with emotion. His hands trembled uncontrollably, and he couldn't calm down.

"You were just a child, why grieve so much?"
"It's time to move on."

The one who claimed that the pain stops was a liar. The pain never stops.
The scar that remains is forever. You constantly feel the absence, everywhere.
Over time, you get used to everything.

This was Alexander's greatest pain.

The boy began to calm down, though the tears were still reluctant to leave. The sound of the front door opening reached him, making him turn around. Terry trotted towards him—his little red scarf swaying left and right. The puppy snuggled at his feet, gazing up at his reddened eyes.

"How did you get him to come out in this weather? He literally hates the rain."

Elizabeth laughed brightly, taking a seat beside him.

"Maybe he's not out here because of me, but because of you."

The curly-haired girl moved closer to Alexander, wrapping her slender arms around his muscular frame. She sat like that for a while, ensuring he stopped shaking. The warmth from her tender embrace brought him out of his trance momentarily. Her forest-green eyes locked onto him, and her gentle voice resonated in his ears:

"She loves you more than you can imagine. She watches over you more than anyone else ever will."

Alexander turned his head to look at Elizabeth. As their eyes met, he took a deep breath, trying to hold back his tears and said:

"I hope one day I can make her proud.

At that moment, he looked up at the sky—the gloomy, angry clouds continued to weep, pouring over the endless mountains and beautiful meadows. The strong wind rustled the delicate leaves and broke branches off the old trees. Sometimes nature was merciless, just like fate.

On the threshold of this unfamiliar house, many truths were spoken. Here, by an unfamiliar fireplace, bitter tears were shed, too much pain was poured out. The old door, creaking like an echoing whisper, had opened to many destinies. The walls, soaked with deep sighs and heavy thoughts, held the secrets of all those who had once sought refuge here. In the fireplace, surrounded by antique carvings, the flames danced in rhythm with the darkness of the souls finding solace in their warmth. The air was thick with the scent of burnt wood and something incomprehensible yet familiar—like the echo of forgotten words and unspoken thoughts.

Here, in this mysterious and enigmatic house, souls confronted what remained unsaid, unseen, and unexperienced. The silence was so dense it could be felt, like a heavy veil descending over every heart daring to step inside. And yet, there was something magical here, something that both attracted and repelled, like a cursed treasure holding the secret of the past but also the promise of a new beginning.