by Zin

The night settled gently around Tella, wrapping her in its velvety embrace, as the quietude knocked softly against her windowpanes like a timid guest. Yet, before she opened her eyes, her spirit was already racing, tangled in the web of a haunting memory. Her breath quickened, each inhale sharp as a shard of glass, her heartbeat a frantic rhythm drumming against her chest.

With a hesitant flutter, she opened her eyes, raising a trembling hand before her as if to question its quaking. An alarm blared from the nearby robot health monitor, its robotic voice slicing through the gloom of her room. “My lady, your heart rate is dangerously high. You need your injection, or you risk collapsing.”

Tella’s voice, though gentle, carried a steely resolve. “Thank you, Sowlly. I’ll be alright. It’s just… a memory, a nightmare really. My body knows too well the scars of my past.” She stifled a chuckle, half-sarcastic, musing aloud, “Why am I explaining myself to a machine that oversees the ladies in black?”

Her laughter rippled through the room, a soft yet defiant sound. The walls bore witness to her irony; a kind soul ensnared in a world that mistreated her for her softness. The health machine’s sensors noted the change in her heartbeat; the alarm quieted as it registered her laughter, her heart rate easing just enough for it to step back.

But laughter can only fill a room so deeply before it gives way to silence, and in that space, an old companion stirred. Silence hovered at the edge of her door, a close friend who had been both ally and witness to her struggles. It fretted, biting its nails, anxious and restless. What was this? Tella was laughing? The sound was foreign, yet familiar, and it gnawed at the edges of Silence’s patience.

Suddenly, the air shifted. An invisible force slammed against the door, pulling Silence back into Tella’s essence like an ocean wave smothering a fire. “That’s my girl,” Silence whispered from within, a blend of wisdom and weariness. “You cannot change the world outside or the fears that haunt you. Embrace me, for I am what keeps you safe.”

Tella’s back straightened against the bed, her feet planted firmly on the ground as the darkness shadow surged in around her, manifesting into a smoky shadow that danced ominously in the corners of her consciousness. With steely determination, she met the shadow’s gaze. “Welcome, old friend,” she declared, her voice steady and clear.

The tremor in her hands subsided. “Understanding you is the first step in my fight. You’ve been a part of me too long; your control ends here.” The shadow swelled, menacing and dark, challenging her newfound resolve. “Tell me, Tella, do you really think you are unafraid?”

With her chin lifted defiantly, she replied, “Yes, I remember you well. You greeted me on the first night of my marriage—the night hope turned to chains, both literal and metaphorical, the night when my husband throw me vilontly on the bed like prinor need to be tamed under his command, when he put the chain around my neck and tried to chock me to the death.” Her voice wavered, yet she pressed on, reliving the moment when innocence collided with brutality. “You whispered to me when I was bound and suffocating—‘give in or fight for your life.’ In that moment, I chose silence, my refuge.”

As the shadow absorbed her confession, it flickered, unsure. Tella could feel her strength rising like a phoenix from the ashes; she straightened her back, her heart a drumbeat of defiance, and she shouted, “Leave me! I will not be your prisoner any longer!” The room seemed to explode in brightness, the heavy smoke swirling until it was nothing more than a fading wisp.

Before her, a small figure lingered, sad yet serene, a shadow born from her own spirit. Tella knelt on the floor, and as their eyes met, she felt an unexpected surge of compassion. “Thank you for being part of my journey,” she said softly, “but now, I release you with love.” In that moment, bile rose in her throat, the taste of bitterness but also of release. “You have shaped me, but my core is stronger than you’ve ever known.”

Silence trembled, taken aback by Tella’s newfound fortitude. “Where did all this strength come from?” it thought, no longer trembling in the corners but stepping into the light. The telepathic bond grew deeper between them as they forged a new identity together—both silence and strength intertwined.

The music beckoned softly from the corners of the room, and with a twirl of her spirit, Tella called out, “Sowlly, let the music play!” The upbeat rhythm filled the air, and Tella lost herself in the dance, her movements celebrating the triumph over her shadows. Along with every step, she felt gratitude resonate through her being, a joyful expression of her resilience, her connection to the divine guiding her spirit home through the rhythms of the night.