Days blurred. Weeks too. Hina wore her blank face like a mask at school. No laughing. No smiling. Even teachers stopped bothering to call on her.
One afternoon, she came home.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Then she saw it.
Her mother. On the floor. Blood everywhere. Skin purpled, broken. No breath.
Hina's throat locked. The room tilted. And then—his voice.
"Don't worry," her stepfather said, standing above the body, eyes wild. "You'll meet her soon."
He lunged.
Hina ran. Legs barely holding her, chest tight, tears blinding her. Into the kitchen, behind the counter, heart smashing against her ribs.
Footsteps. Heavy. Getting closer.
His shadow loomed over her. He yanked her wrist, dragging her up. His other hand raised.
"Worthless—"
The knife. Right there.
Her hand darted. Fingers grabbed the handle.
She swung.
Steel cut flesh.
Once. Twice.
She couldn't stop. Fear fried her mind into static. She stabbed again, again. Tears blurring everything. Three, four, five—blood sprayed hot. Six, seven, eight—his roar choked to a gargle. Nine, ten, eleven—his grip loosened but she didn't stop. Twelve. Thirteen.
Each thrust ripped a sob out of her. Her arm moved on its own.
Finally, he collapsed, choking on his own blood, eyes wide in shock.
The knife slipped from her hand. Her palms and arms were red, dripping. Her face too. She stared, trembling, breaths ragged. A scream rose but came out broken:
"What… what have I done…"
Guilt, terror, regret. All at once. Crushing her.
She stumbled into the living room, fell beside her mother.
"Mom! Mom!!" Her voice cracked, sobs tearing through her. She shook her, clutched her. "Please wake up… please…"
But the body stayed still. Cold. Silent.
Hina buried her face against her and cried until no sound came out.
Minutes passed. Hours maybe. She couldn't tell.
Finally, she staggered to her feet and out of the house.
The streets were dark. Empty. She walked, clothes sticky, hands shaking.
A group turned the corner, almost running into her.
"Hey, watch where you're—" one snapped, but froze.
They saw her face. Her hands. The blood.
Their anger vanished. "S-sorry…" one muttered. They all stepped aside, quiet now, eyes turned away.
Hina kept walking, gaze empty.
She reached a parking structure. High up. Lights flickering orange, shadows stretching long.
She stopped. Breath shallow. Knees weak. Her eyes locked on the edge.
Would falling… make it stop?
She hugged herself, staring into the dark below.
The night swallowed her whole.