THE LUNA FOUND

She was coming... “Lya!” Aurora’s voice sliced through the quiet house, echoing up the stairs. I flinched, already feeling the tight knot of dread forming in my stomach. Her footsteps creaked louder, closer. I crouched by the window in the corner of the dim attic. My heart pounding in sync with her approach. The door creaked open. Aurora stepped in, her posture rigid. She held tightly the dress that was in her hand, its fabric crumpled in her grip. “There you are,” she said, her voice deceptively soft, but her eyes… they burned. I stood slowly, keeping my gaze on the floor. “Yes... Mother?” Her lips pressed into a thin line, the tension between us thickening the air. She tossed the dress onto the bed, her fingers still lingering on the material for a second, like it physically pained her to touch it. “Put it on,” she ordered. “Your party starts in an hour. Don’t embarrass me.” I bit my lip, staring at the dress. “I… I don’t want a party.” Her hand shot out, gripping my chin roughly and forcing my face up to meet her gaze. “It’s not about what you want, Lya,” she hissed. “You’ll do as you're told.” I swallowed hard, nodding despite the sting of her fingers against my skin. “Yes, Mother.” Her grip tightened before she finally let go, disgust flickering across her face as if I was something foul. She turned her back to me, her voice cold. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. Smile. Pretend, like always. Do you understand?” The words stung more than her fingers had. I glanced at the dress, hating it, hating her for this performance she expected me to give. I felt a surge of rebellion welling up within me. It was a flickering ember of defiance, a spark that dared to challenge the darkness that had enveloped my spirit. But with trembling fingers, I held back, fearful of the consequences that would follow such an act of defiance. Not today. Not now. “Yes,” I whispered, reaching for the dress with trembling hands. Aurora paused at the door, not looking back. “Good.” And with that, she left, slamming the door behind her. ** In the majestic expanse of the grand reception hall, I found myself stationed as a mere observer amidst the swirling sea of guests. An sense of anticipation gripped my every fiber, rendering me incapable of uttering a single word. "Ah, dear Lya, you are just as radiant as you were last year." A middle-aged gentleman, who bore a somewhat familiar resemblance, beamed at me and lifted the glass in his hand, presumably a friend of Damon, my half-brother. "Honestly, you should express your gratitude to your adoptive mother. If it weren't for Aurora's benevolence, you wouldn't even be a part of this world anymore." "Thank you for the kind words. Lya has brought us immeasurable happiness as well, and I have always regarded her as my own daughter," responded Aurora, her countenance displaying a gentle smile, concealing any trace of deceit. My brother stood by my side and took me by the shoulders to add, "We love Lya even more than Drew." Standing in the presence of my adoptive family, Drew joined the chorus of admiration and gratitude, her smile radiating warmth and acceptance. "Yes, I love Lya as well and I'm incredibly thankful that she is part of my world." The room brimmed with whispered conversations as guests marveled at the extraordinary compassion that coursed through the veins of this remarkable family. They were lauded for their boundless capacity to shower their adopted daughter, me, with a love that surpassed even the depths of flesh and blood. Yes, in the eyes of outsiders, I became the despised intruder, taking advantage of my adoptive mother's affection and tormenting her own children. But none of them knew the truth! With lifeless eyes, I was guided by my adoptive mother to greet the assembled guests, each one admiring the attire I wore and emphasizing the need to repay the kindness of this benevolent family. But behind the facade of admiration, a chilling truth loomed. My spirit had been extinguished, replaced by lifeless eyes that concealed the weight of my suffering. The truth of my existence was veiled by the grandeur of the hall, where appearances masked the stark realities that lay beneath. I forced the corners of my mouth to curl upwards, mustering a decent smile. Yes, it was true that Aurora had adopted me. But it wasn't true that she, Damon, and Drew, her biological children, loved me. Aurora had married my father. At that time, she pretended to be a good stepmother to me. But after my father's death, everything changed. She took advantage of the fact that I didn't know my biological mother and that I had no other family to make me her slave. When my once-bright and spacious room transformed into a dark, damp attic, where I found myself lying on a blanket among mice, deprived of a proper bed… Although the wounds inflicted on my body by Drew's hands or various tools continued to ache, I could not confide in anyone. Even if I did, no one would believe me. Naturally, I was well aware of that. On the day of my seventh birthday party, I confided in a young boy about the hardships I endured within this family. Therefore, Aurora locked me in the attic for three days without food or water. Perhaps Aurora would have let me starve to death if I hadn't cried and promised to go and explain to that little boy that it was all a fabricated lie, an attempt to gain his attention. Lost in my thoughts, I failed to realize that we had been standing in front of an elderly man with gray hair for quite some time until Damon, the older brother, pinched my waist. "Lya, what are you thinking about? It's not appropriate for a young lady to wander off in front of guests," Damon cautioned, his eyes filled with a warning, yet his smile appeared so, so kind. "Yes, I apologize, Brother," I replied, folding my hands in front of me and shielding my waist with my arms, determined to prevent Damon from laying his hands on me again. The pain from his pinch was intense, and I could already envision the red marks it would leave. "Come, say hello to Uncle Nicholas," Damon extended his hand, pointing towards the old man with white hair, his tone filled with respect. I gazed at his outstretched hand, while "Uncle Nicholas" smiled at me, yet his gaze held a multitude of emotions I could not comprehend. My intuition told me that it was not the affection an elder should display towards a junior. Furthermore, his age hardly warranted the title of "uncle." It would be more appropriate to refer to him as "grandpa." "Damon, you're frightening Lya. There's no need to be so stern with such a lovely young girl," Nicholas addressed Damon, but his eyes remained fixated on me. "You're right, Nicholas," Damon turned his attention to me, "Lya, why don't you go find Aurora? She seems to have something to discuss with you." I followed Damon's finger to where Aurora stood in the doorway of the ballroom, offering me a kind smile. When our eyes met, she waved at me. A sense of unease washed over me, but I had no choice but to heed Damon's instructions. I knew something was wrong. "Lya, I believe you've met Nicholas. He's a delightful gentleman, wouldn't you agree?" Aurora guided me into the room filled with dolls that, in the eyes of others, still belonged to me. For me, it was the first time in years that I had stepped foot into this room since I was ten years old. I observed the dolls that populated the space, their faces frozen in stiff and insincere smiles, mirroring the facade my family maintained in front of outsiders. "Yes," I responded, nervously clutching the hem of my skirt, feeling the delicate texture of the silk against my fingertips, a stark contrast to the rough garments I typically wore. "After the party concludes, Nicholas will be staying, and I want you to take my place and treat him well, understood?" Aurora's voice carried an air of authority. "Treat him?" I was puzzled, unsure of what she meant. Since that incident when I was seven, Aurora and Damon never left me alone with guests, fearing that I might say something that would prove too much for them to handle. "Yes, treat, with your body."