My Cursed Love

Chapter 9: How can I feel safe again?

-Elena-

Everything around me felt like noise. The whispers of students trying to talk discreetly, the sound of pencils scratching on paper as words appeared, and the relentless ticking of the clock counting down our remaining time—it was all just noise. It was deafening. I couldn’t concentrate.

My hands instinctively moved to my ears, trying to block out the sound, but it didn’t help. I then buried my hands in my hair, pulling so hard it caused pain. I couldn’t escape the noise. My heart raced, and beads of sweat began forming on my forehead. I tried to wipe them away, but it was futile. My vision blurred as tears welled up. What was happening to me? Why did it feel like I couldn’t breathe?

I felt so dizzy. My entire body was tense, and my leg tapped uncontrollably, making a harsh noise that I couldn’t suppress. It was as if my whole being was urging me to run, but run from what? I didn’t know. I just knew I couldn’t stay there any longer. It was all too overwhelming. I felt like I was about to pass out any second. I had to leave. I had to get out of there.

The chair screeched loudly as I abruptly stood up, drawing the attention of the teacher and every student in the room. I ignored their stares and fled the classroom. I faintly heard Erica calling after me, but my legs wouldn’t stop. I ran without a clear destination, driven only by the urgent need to escape. The white cement walls felt like they were closing in on me. I couldn’t bear it.

Driven by fear, I dashed through the hallways and burst outside. I sped past the lunch tables, over the large grassy area where students gathered to read or chat, and headed toward the football field. My legs trembled, and my chest ached. It had been a while since I had run like this, not since I escaped that awful castle.

I didn’t understand why I had bolted from class like a mad person. I just knew I had to get away. From what? I still couldn’t figure it out. Every noise had felt amplified, each sound a thousand times louder than I had ever heard before, while the teacher’s voice had been swallowed by the everything else around him.

My hand pressed against my chest as I tried to calm myself, but my breathing remained ragged, each inhalation and exhalation sharp with pain. Since coming home, I’d felt weak, and pushing myself to “escape” again had only worsened my state.

My legs felt like they could no longer support me, so I collapsed to the ground. My knees scraped against the rough surface as I hit the earth hard. I stretched my arms out to the sides to brace myself and stared at the green grass, its blades freshly cut. Clutching the grass, I dug my nails into the dirt, trying to ground myself. Overwhelmed by the storm of emotions, I had to release them somehow.

With the last of my strength, I took a deep breath and let out a long, primal scream filled with pain and despair. I screamed and screamed until my throat ached and my lungs were empty. When I finally stopped, my entire body shook with exhaustion. Tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the grass beneath me. I was left in silence, having expelled every bit of anguish with that desperate scream.

I was never going to feel safe, was I? How could I? Even surrounded by people at school, I was still haunted. I remained a nervous wreck, with no control over myself. The sounds around me had triggered everything—the fear of being trapped, the terror of the beatings, the dread of humiliation and torture. I could never escape that sense of vulnerability. No matter where I went, anything could set me off, and I hated it.

My nails dug deeper into the dirt as anger surged through me. They owned me—every part of me. I wished desperately for some way to regain control, to reclaim a sense of power. I needed to own myself again.

***

It took a while before I was able to get up again. Thankfully, everyone was still in class, so no one had to see me in the tortured state I had been in for what felt like an eternity. My legs were numb from sitting so long, but the circulation was slowly returning. I looked around, trying to find my way back to school. It was strange—this place that had once been so familiar now felt foreign. Maybe I had truly changed. Perhaps there was no going back to normal because who I was now was normal to me.

I had fought hard and tried to keep going after I got home, but maybe it was time for a break. Perhaps I needed to accept that this was who I was now: a nervous wreck haunted by nightmares so vivid they made me lose track of where I was, with a body that looked as if it had clawed its way out of hell, left nothing but bones and bruises. It was a grim reality, and I was exhausted. I had to admit it. Maybe coming back to school was a mistake.

As I came to terms with this, I let my head hang in defeat. It was time to call my aunt. I really wanted this to work, but having a panic attack in the first class I attended showed me that I wasn’t ready and wouldn’t be for a long time.

My legs started moving as I decided it was time to reach out to my aunt. I couldn’t force my body into something it wasn’t prepared for. I was a fighter, yes, but even the greatest warriors need a break now and then.

I remembered my phone was still in the classroom, so I had no choice but to go back, even though it was going to be really embarrassing and humiliating. I needed to get my aunt to come pick me up. With a sense of defeat, I walked back toward the school.

As I reached the back of the school, where deliveries like food for the canteen were made, I was met with an unpleasant sight. This area, usually frequented by students trying to avoid detection—whether they were seeking refuge from teachers or indulging in graffiti—was particularly grim.

Teachers rarely ventured here, and the school staff only visited on Wednesdays to sign for deliveries. I generally avoided this part of the school due to the odd crowd that gathered here. Now, however, I was more concerned about running into someone who might have seen me fleeing earlier.

I had hoped no one would be in the back area since class hadn’t ended yet, but I was wrong. The scene before me was far from what I wanted to see, especially on a day like today.

A girl with long blonde hair was lying on a half-broken wooden table beneath a guy with light brown hair and a black leather jacket. Her blouse was pushed up over her pink bra, and her skirt had been pulled down to her ankles, revealing her matching pink panties. She was moaning loudly, almost as if she wanted the entire school to hear. The guy’s hands were running down her sides, and he was kissing his way down her stomach.

“Oh s**t,” I muttered, freezing in place.

The guy halted his kissing and lifted his head slightly, meeting my eyes. The girl turned her head toward me, her eyes widening in surprise. She quickly pushed him away, pulled her skirt up, and adjusted her blouse. Her hair was a mess, but she had no time to fix it. She was clearly in a rush to escape. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as she hurriedly fled the scene.

Before I could process what was happening, she was gone, leaving me face-to-face with a pair of striking emerald-green eyes filled with annoyance. The guy with those intense eyes was Trey, the school’s notorious troublemaker. Known for his womanizing ways and lack of subtlety, he was now rubbing his slightly swollen lips while leaning forward, his arms resting on his knees.

Oh God, what had I just done? Nobody wanted to make Trey mad. He was someone you definitely didn’t want to get on the wrong side of, and I had just interrupted what was clearly meant to be a private moment. He suddenly stood up, causing me to instinctively back away. What was he going to do?

“I’d better leave,” I said quietly, raising my hands in a feeble attempt to shield myself as he advanced.

Just as I was about to turn and flee, an iron grip seized my arm, yanking me against a cement wall covered in crude graffiti. Trey slammed his hands on either side of my face, leaving inches between us.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” he demanded.

I could only shake my head, unable to find the words.

“You just cockblocked me,” he accused.

I gulped.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” I stuttered, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t care what your intentions were. That girl’s long gone, and I’m still obviously turned on,” he said, glancing down at himself. I couldn’t help but follow his eyes. Damn, he was definitely still aroused—his bulge was clearly visible. I quickly looked away, trying to erase the image from my mind. “And since she’s not coming back, I guess I’ll have to settle for you.”