~CHAPTER 1~

I stepped into the party, and the atmosphere was electric. The room was alive with flashing lights, and the thumping bass of the music vibrated through my entire body. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, laughing, and dancing with no care. My friends Ryan and Lily were with me at first, but amidst the crowd's frenzy, we got separated.

Feeling a little parched, I grabbed a red cup, assuming it held some refreshing fruit punch. I took a sip, expecting the sweet taste, but my taste buds were met with the harsh burn of alcohol instead. It hit me like a tidal wave, and the room started spinning around me. I stumbled through the sea of dancing bodies, trying to find Ryan and Lily to steady myself.

In my disoriented state, I wandered into a dimly lit basement. A sense of dread washed over me as I found myself facing a chilling scene. Aaron, lay lifeless on the floor, surrounded by bloodstains and bruises. It was like a scene from a horror movie, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

Suddenly, a strong grip tightened around me from behind, and terror consumed me. I couldn't see who it was, but their strength was overpowering. I fought with every ounce of energy in my body, struggling to break free, but it was as if I was trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape.

I jolted awake gasping for air, clinging to my sheets, trying to ground myself in reality. But the images from the nightmare lingered in my mind, refusing to fade away. I was terrified, knowing that I had experienced something so hauntingly vivid in my sleep. The nightmare had shaken me to my core, leaving me trembling with fear and unable to shake off the lingering sense of dread.

As the morning light started to filter through the curtains, I tried to remind myself that it was just a dream, but the memories were too vivid to ignore. The night of that summer party would forever haunt me, both in my waking hours and in the terrifying corners of my subconscious.

I stood before the mirror, carefully examining the dark bruise on the left side of my head. It had already started to fade, but the faint traces reminded me of the horrifying events that unfolded on that fateful summer night. My fingers gently traced the contours of the bruise, my mind involuntarily replaying the terrifying scene.

Feeling a mix of emotions, I pushed aside the memories and made my way to the bathroom. Stripping off my clothes, I filled the bathtub with warm water, seeking solace in its calming embrace. As I sank into the soothing waters, my thoughts drifted to the present – it was the first day of school after the night that changed everything.

Since that dreadful night, I had locked myself in my house, hinding from the outside world. My friends' relentless calls and visits felt like a distant echo, but I couldn't find the strength to respond. Silence enveloped me, and the nightmares invaded my sleep, making it difficult to find rest.

My parents, concerned and worried, always asks me about that night, but I felt like my voice is lost in the depths of my fear. Whenever they inquire about it, I tremble, unable to find the words to share my torment. Their concern only add to the burden of secrets I carry.

In an effort to help me, my parents sought professional help, calling in a therapist to assist me in overcoming the haunting aftermath of that night. I wanted to talk, to let the truth spill out, but I am not ready yet.

As I entered the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of cereal. My parents' warm "good morning" greeted me, and I smiled in response, grateful for their presence. Dad, dressed sharply in his office suit, was immersed in the morning newspaper until Mom brought him his coffee, prompting him to fold the paper and join the conversation.

As usual, the questions about my well-being began. Mom's caring eyes bore into mine, seeking reassurance. "How are you feeling today, honey? Any more nightmares?"

I took a deep breath, trying my best to sound composed. "No, Mom, the nightmares have stopped, and I've been taking my pills regularly."

She nodded, but her expression revealed her concern. "It's good to hear, but we worry about you. We just want you to know we're here for you, always."

Dad chimed in, his voice gentle yet firm. "Your mother is right. We know it's been tough, but we're proud of your strength. Remember, you don't have to carry everything alone."

I appreciated their concern, but sometimes the constant questions made it harder to move forward. "I know, Dad. But sometimes, talking about it all the time... it just makes it harder to forget, you know?"

Dad paused, understanding etched on his face. "You're right. We'll try to be more mindful. Today is the first day of school, a fresh start. Maybe being back with your friends will help."

Mom smiled encouragingly. "Yes, dear. Your friends care about you too, and they'll be there for you."

I nodded, appreciating their efforts to lift my spirits. However, I couldn't help but feel apprehensive about going back to school. My friends had been supportive, but I had distanced myself from them, fearing that sharing my burden would burden them too.

As I finished my breakfast and prepared to leave for school, Dad gently placed a hand on my shoulder, catching me off guard with his next words. "By the way, the police officer investigating the case will be coming to school again. They're determined to catch the person responsible, and they might ask you for information."

My heart skipped a beat, and I froze for a moment. "What? They're coming to school?"

Dad's reassuring grip on my shoulder tightened. "Yes, but don't be afraid. You've already shown immense strength, and if they ask you anything, just be honest. Your cooperation might make a difference."

Feeling a mix of fear and resolve, I nodded, grateful for my parents' unwavering support. With their words echoing in my mind, I stepped outside, ready to face the day ahead.