Die For You

Chapter 11

Its the next morning after the party and the first person that came in my mind is Dante i think i like him but i don't want to she kissed him last night yet he said she doesn't mean anything to him thats just weird in my eyes i look at my phone and see that luna texted me last night she was probably drunk texting people around i will call her later ugh its sunday and im still tired i think i will just stay in bed all day long and study for the exams.

After a day of relentless studying, my eyes grew heavy, weighed down by the exhaustion that had accumulated. As the clock struck 8 pm, I finally succumbed to the weariness, finding an unintended haven in the pages of my textbooks. The soft glow of my desk lamp cast a dim light on my makeshift bed.

In the midst of my peaceful doze, a subtle vibration from my phone disrupted the tranquility. Squinting at the screen, I deciphered Luna's message: "Wish me luck; my parents are downstairs now waiting for me to get down."

A quiet yawn escaped me as I mustered the energy to type back, "You've got this! Good luck! You'll do great!" The screen dimmed, and I settled back into my nap.

Lunas pov:

Walking down the big stairs, I felt the heaviness of my strict upbringing. My parents were waiting in the fancy dining room, lit up by sparkly chandeliers. The candlelight made the shiny plates and silverware look important.

Sitting at the grand dining table, the chairs were big and kind of swallowed me up. The air smelled delicious with the fancy meal - all kinds of flavors mixing together. The fancy patterns on the chairs briefly distracted me from the looming formality.

Dinner started calmly. The sound of forks and knives on the pretty plates created a nice melody in the room. I found a bit of comfort in the yummy textures and flavors, forgetting for a moment about the serious stuff.

"So father why did you want to speak to me?" i ask nicely.But when they took away the last bit of dinner, my dad's face changed. He spoke in a serious way, "Luna, it's time to think about your future. We found a good guy for you, from a nice family."

My heart sank. I got what he meant - they wanted me to marry this guy. The room, which felt welcoming before, suddenly felt small, and I struggled to find words. It was like shadows covered up all the feelings inside me.

"No, are you crazy? I won't marry someone I don't even know. It's my life, and you've controlled it every step of the way." I yell, frustration and fear welling up inside me. The weight of solitude I endured for so long amplifies the injustice of this demand.

His face, stern and unyielding, he approaches with a cold determination. "You will marry him. Don't act like you have options because you clearly don't. You are useless. Never dare to say no to me," he asserts, each word striking like a blow.

With a sudden, forceful motion, he raises his hand, and a sharp slap reverberates through the room. I find myself on the ground, my cheek stinging, both from the physical pain. The reality sinks in - my pleas and protests mean nothing.

"Get lost. They will come tomorrow to get engaged with you, slut. Now, go away," he orders, his words cutting through me. In that moment, i feel like the helpless 4-year-old girl trapped in a dark room.

Tears rolled down my face as I walked to my room, still feeling the weight of his harsh words. His control and the forced engagement felt suffocating. I needed to let out all the feelings inside.

When I got to my room, my safe place turned into a battlefield. Angry and desperate, I swiped my hand across the dressing table, making perfumes and trinkets crash to the floor. The mirror, once showing my dreams, broke into pieces.

In a hurry, I messed up everything - books, clothes, and even my bed. The soft cushions got torn apart, and feathers flew like a strange storm.

Each thing that used to be a part of my neat world became a victim of my frustration. The walls, keeping my secrets, saw me scream and cry. My room turned into a mess, just like my emotions.

My desk, where I studied, took the hit. Papers flew around like confetti, torn pages floating like parts of a life falling apart. The calm room was now a mess.

Sitting on the messed-up floor, I take a piece of the broken mirror. I start to cut my arms; it feels strangely satisfying now, even though deep down, I know I'll regret this later.
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Y'all, I know it's a short chapter. Luna has to marry someone she doesn't want to. I'm thinking about writing Luna's own book because I feel like her story will turn out better than this one. Obviously, her book will be better, and that will be my second book. Let me know if y'all want me to write a book for Luna!

My instagram: zeyyfr1