Page 16 of Forbidden Knots

Icame to this city in search of the unknown, not knowing what I would find—be it love, friendship, a new life, or new inspiration. Primarily, I came to escape—from my city, from my mother’s madness, from my father’s absence, from their broken relationship. I yearned to leave all my problems behind and start anew, free from the corruption that tainted my heart. I wanted to embrace Sophie and forge a genuine friendship.

Every word I spoke was true,except for one: that I had no interest in Tristan.

He is the only lie I live with, the secret desire I wake up to every morning. His presence is inescapable, right outside my window, always within sight. I never made the connection that he was Sophie’s brother. If I had, I wouldn’t have let my thoughts run wild with sinful imaginings. I wouldn’t want him as much as I do now. His eyes, his shadow, his body, his hair, his mouth—he is my forbidden desire, a secret I long to keep to myself.

Sophie saw right through me, and I hated her for it. "He is my brother!" she shouted, "God!"

"I didn’t do anything," I protested, "we didn’t do anything," I corrected myself.

"I swear, if you did, I would’ve killed you," she threatened. "The one thing I care about most is him. He’s all I have left."

I was silent, and she continued, "And you hang out with me just because of him, because all you want is to fuck him."

"That’s not true," I shouted back. "I didn’t know he was your brother."

"I thought I was fucked up, but you are fucking weird, Thalia. To watch him every day from your room and then to watch him fuck Chiara—that’s just messed up!" she screamed. "I don’t want to be your friend anymore."

I was fed up with all this drama that I never wanted in the first place. "You know what," I said, not looking at her, "you werenevermy friend anyway."

She opened her mouth to argue, but I didn’t let her. I stormed out, slamming the door behind me and running away from the house.

Across the street, Chiara and her friends were gathered. When they saw me, they started shouting and throwing eggs at the house.

"Slut, slut, slut," they yelled, laughing.

I slammed the door behind me, tears streaming down my cheeks. I ran up the stairs so fast that I didn’t notice my grandmother saying something to me. I locked myself in my room, sliding down against the door. Their taunts echoed off the walls, and my silent sobs grew deeper and deeper.

How can people be so cruel? How can they wish so much evil upon someone for just one look?

I got up slowly, went to the window, and closed the blinds. The room was enveloped in darkness, and I lay down on the bed, pulling the sheet over me. A knock came at the door, but I didn’tmove. Pain gripped my chest, and a paralyzing restlessness kept me rooted to the spot.

"Bambina, is everything okay?" My grandma’s voice came through the door.

"Yeah," I called out softly, my voice barely audible.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"No," I replied, my voice now clear.

"I will be here if you need to talk," she said, and then I heard her footsteps fade away.

I turned over, closing my eyes as tears streamed down my face. The way I felt was like falling deeper and deeper into an abyss, with no one able to save me. I had waited a long time for someone to come to my rescue, but in the end, I realized that I was the one who needed to save myself.

The sheet still covered my entire body, including my face, but I heard silent footsteps approaching. Despite my desire to feign sleep, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. Suddenly, the sheet tightened around my face, making it difficult to breathe. I gasped for air, my hands shaking and kicking the mattress until I lost my strength.

All I could hear were loud, ragged breaths, and I felt someone’s hands pressing against my neck through the sheet. My legs kicked frantically, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My eyes began to close, and my mouth opened in a desperate attempt to draw in air, but there was none. I could feel thebruising marks on my neck, but then, suddenly, it all stopped. A loud knock echoed through the room, and I yanked the sheet away, gasping for air. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly alive. I wanted to live. I wanted to fight for my life and take control again. I wanted to exist.

As I got up, I saw someone moving in the darkness. Tilting my head to the left, I saw Grandma lying on the floor, face down, her mouth open and her eyes shut.

"What the...?" I started, kneeling beside her. One of my hands was on her, checking for any signs of life, while the other remained on my neck, trying to ease the painful bruises.

"I wouldn’t do that..." a voice said.

That voice—it was so familiar.Could it be?

My stalker emerged from the shadows, his face hidden by a hood. He was shielding his face, as always.

"If I had been a minute later..." he began, his voice raspy and deep. I had never heard him speak before, yet he sounded so familiar. As he stepped closer, my heart raced. I was scared, but more of my reaction to him than of him himself.

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