The gate creaked as Nyra pushed it open.
Her hands were trembling.
Not slightly.
Uncontrollably.
She glanced behind her once… twice… her breath uneven, her chest still tight like something was pressing against it from inside.
Silence greeted her.
The house was empty.
Her uncle’s family was out of town.
For once, there were no voices.
No insults.
No footsteps.
And yet—
She had never felt this unsafe.
—
She stepped inside quickly and shut the door behind her, locking it.
Once.
Twice.
Her fingers hesitated… then turned the lock again.
Just to be sure.
“It’s fine… it’s fine…” she whispered, though her voice shook badly.
But nothing felt fine.
Her heart refused to slow down.
Her mind refused to quiet.
Every shadow felt alive.
—
Nyra rushed upstairs, nearly stumbling as she reached her room. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, her breathing breaking into sharp, uneven gasps.
“I’m okay… I’m okay…”
But the words didn’t reach her.
Her eyes darted toward the drawer beside her bed.
The pills.
She needed them.
Now.
She pushed herself forward, pulling the drawer open with trembling hands.
“Where… where is it…”
Her fingers fumbled until they found the strip.
Relief hit—
Desperate.
She didn’t think.
Didn’t pause.
She just needed it to stop.
She swallowed two pills quickly, her throat dry, her hands still shaking.
“Please… just stop…”
Her voice cracked.
She sank to the floor beside her bed—
And then—
It hit.
The memories.
—
“The medicine hadn’t worked yet… and the memories didn’t wait.”
Her breathing broke completely.
“No… no… not again…”
Her nails dug into her arms as her body started shaking.
And just like that—
She wasn’t in her room anymore.
—
" FLASHBACK — AGE 17 "
The school corridor was empty.
Too empty.
Nyra walked fast, her books clutched tightly to her chest.
She shouldn’t have stayed late.
She knew that.
“Hey… where are you going?”
Her steps slowed.
Her grip tightened.
Three voices.
Behind her.
She didn’t turn.
“I—I have to go…” she said quietly, her voice already unsteady.
“Relax,” one of them laughed, stepping closer. “We’re just talking.”
Her heart started racing.
Her pace quickened.
So did theirs.
“Why are you ignoring us?” another voice said.
One of them moved in front of her.
Blocking her path.
Her breath hitched.
“Please… move…”
“Why so scared?” he smirked.
Another voice behind her—
“Look at her… shaking already.”
Her chest tightened painfully.
“No… please…”
One of them grabbed her wrist.
Too tight.
Her books slipped from her hands, falling to the floor.
“Let me go,” she said, panic rising. “Please—”
“Don’t act smart,” he snapped.
Her breathing shattered.
“Stop—please stop—”
They laughed.
And that was enough.
Her mind broke before her body did.
The corridor blurred.
The voices mixed.
The fear—
_
It wasn’t new.
It felt familiar.
Too familiar.
Her chest tightened violently.
Air disappeared.
“No… no… not again…”
_
Her body reacted before her mind could.
She shoved back with whatever strength she had left.
Enough to break free.
And she ran.
Ran without direction.
Without control.
Without breathing.
She didn’t stop until her legs gave out.
Her body collapsed against a wall somewhere far from school.
Her hands shook violently.
Her chest burned.
Her breaths came in broken gasps.
“I can’t… breathe…”
Tears streamed down her face.
“No… I’m okay… I’m okay…”
But she wasn’t.
She pressed her hands to her head, trying to block everything out.
Too many thoughts.
Too many sounds.
Too much fear.
Then—
A voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
From memory.
"Nyra… when you’re scared… breathe with yourself."
Her lips trembled.
“Mom…”
Her mother.
Gone.
One year.
And her father…
Lost in his own grief.
There was no one she could go to.
No one she could tell.
“I can’t tell dada…” she whispered, shaking. “He’ll… break…”
Her fingers curled tightly.
“So I have to… handle it…”
Alone.
Her breathing was still fast.
Uncontrolled.
But she forced herself—
Inhale.
Slow.
“1… 2… 3…”
Exhale.
Shaky.
Again.
In.
“1… 2… 3…”
Out.
Her hands gripped her arms tightly.
Grounding herself.
“I’m here… I’m here…”
Again.
And again.
Minutes passed.
Her breathing slowly steadied.
Not fully.
But enough.
Enough to sit up.
Enough to think.
“I’m safe…”
She looked around.
Empty street.
No one.
“I’m safe…”
And that night—
She told no one.
Not her father.
Not anyone.
She buried it.
Locked it inside herself.
And learned—
How to survive alone.
—
" BACK TO PRESENT "
Nyra gasped as she came back, her body jerking forward.
Her room.
Her floor.
Her reality.
But the fear hadn’t left.
Her hands trembled as she pulled her knees close, resting her forehead against them.
“In… 1… 2… 3…”
Her voice was barely there.
“Out…”
Again.
And again.
Tears slipped down silently now.
But her breathing—
It slowed.
Gradually.
“I’m safe…”
The same words.
From years ago.
Still the only thing holding her together.
The medicine finally began to take effect, dulling the sharp edges of her panic.
Her body weakened.
Exhausted.
Drained.
“…I’m tired…”
Her eyes slowly closed as she lay there on the cold floor.
Not peaceful.
Never peaceful.
But quiet.
For now.
—
And somewhere in the same city—
Unseen.
Unaware to her—
Someone was already watching the storm she was trying to survive.
And this time—
It wouldn’t go unnoticed.
" TO BE CONTINUED "
____________________________________________________________
Author's note...
Hey everyone 🙂 🙂
This chapter was a very emotional one… we finally got a glimpse into Nyra’s past and what she has been silently carrying all these years.
How did you feel reading this? Did it change the way you see her? 💔
I’d really love to know your thoughts, so please don’t forget to leave a comment and share your feelings about Nyra’s story 💌
See you in the next chapter…
Bye bye 👋 👋 👋 👋
Write a comment ...