Zylerion 🐆🌸

My life seemed perfect, painted in a thousand colors — a loving father, a gentle and caring mother, an adorable little sister, an ideal family, right?

But nothing lasts forever, apparently.

And then, a year, a month, a week ago…

My parents started arguing constantly for reasons I still don’t understand. Then one day, everything fell apart — they decided to separate.

I honestly thought it was the best thing for our family, better than enduring their daily screams filled with hatred. My mother left with my little sister Amaya, and I stayed with my father.

On my birthday, I organized a big party where I invited all my friends — and especially my little sister Amaya. At that time, she was 12, and I was 14.

I stayed in the living room to talk with her like the old days… and I don’t remember what happened after that.

...

...

...

I was covered in blood...

My body was trembling strangely...

And Amaya — my sister — was lying on the floor, also covered in blood. But the problem was…

That blood... was hers.

...

...

I screamed. My parents came running. When they saw the scene, my mother started screaming, and my father immediately sent all the guests away.

I just stood there, unable to move, frozen, staring... without understanding anything.

The hospital intervened and took my sister away.

I kept saying I didn’t know what had happened. I felt like no one was listening to me. My father took me to my room. I showered, then fell asleep, praying in my heart for Amaya.

The next morning, I saw people at our door arguing with my father. When they saw me, my father gestured to them as if to say:

“Go ahead.”

I didn’t understand, but I felt a bad premonition — too late. They took me away.

I struggled, looked at my father in shock, screaming,

“DAD, WHAT’S HAPPENING??”

And he answered, his voice trembling:

“Don’t worry, they’re taking you somewhere safe, they’ll help you get better there.”

“What do you mean get better?? What did I do, Dad?? Don’t let them take me! Mom would never have agreed to this!! PLEASE—DAD!!!”

That’s the last thing I remember… before they injected me with something that plunged me into darkness.

When I woke up, I was in a room — everything was white.

Even my clothes. I looked around — there was only one door. I ran to it, hit it, screamed for them to let me out.

No answer.

Exhausted, I slid down the wall… and that’s when I heard a soft voice say:

“Don’t worry, you’ll get out of here.”

“What place is this? Where am I?”

“In a hospital that treats patients suffering from mental disorders.”

“You’re telling me I’m crazy? Oh, go to hell, holy nurse! Get out — nobody understands me, nobody hears my pain…”

“I can’t do that. I’m here to help you, and I’ll always be here to—”

“GET OUT… damn it… (in a broken, trembling voice) I want to be alone…”

Time passed… and I was still there, waiting for someone to finally come and get me.

They assigned me a teacher to catch up on my classes, another one for my so-called “mental illness.”

And that damn holy nurse followed me everywhere like a shadow.

The only comfort I had was that my mother came to visit me every day.

But as time went on… she stopped coming.

I tried to contact my father. Every time — no answer.

Never.

I was losing my mind.

And the last time I saw him, he just said:

“You won’t see your sister for a while, or your mother. Don’t try to find out why.”

“What do you mean, Dad?? What happened??”

“They’re gone. To London, for good.”

“They would never have left without telling me… YOU DID SOMETHING TO THEM, DAMN IT!! DO YOU THINK I’M STUPID??”

“The medication clearly isn’t working enough, it seems.”

“What do you mean??”

And then, he made the same gesture — the same gesture as the day I left home. And me, like an idiot, I realized too late…

I turned around — too late.

They injected me again with that damn serum.

“GO TO HELL, FATHER!”

Those were the last words... before I woke up again in that same white room.

And the trauma...

It continued.

For an entire year.

Sometimes I told myself that everything I was living wasn’t real.

That it was just a long nightmare, a bad dream I’d eventually wake up from.

I started doubting reality.

You’ll probably think I’m crazy, but I felt like...

I could hear my mother’s voice at night.

Almost every night, she whispered:

“Run... and go far away.”

And every time I woke up, the moment I heard her voice, it disappeared.

As if she had never been there.

But damn it... am I going crazy?

A week before I was supposed to leave the hospital, something strange happened.

For the first time, the holy nurse and I spoke calmly.

“Do you think I’ll ever get out of here?”

“Of course, don’t worry. It’s soon.”

“When?”

“It’s a secret.”

“Will the crime I committed against my sister ever be forgiven?”

She placed her hand gently on mine and said:

“Listen… you didn’t commit any crime against your sister, alright?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Even me?”

She smiled softly.

“Of course, my dear.”

Then she took off a necklace around her neck — a diamond shaped like a fleur-de-lys.

She placed it in my hand.

“Keep it. Every time you look at it, remember: you deserve a second chance. The past is the past, alright?”

She left the room, promising to come back soon.

But she never came back.