"Mum, please… Can I talk to you?" I asked, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
She was standing by the dining table, papers and ribbons spread out like she was building a castle out of dreams. My mother had that look again—half excited, half tired—the kind she always wore when she wanted everything to be perfect.
"Okay, Amelia," she said without looking up. "Make it fast, I have some preparations to do for the wedding."
Her words stung a little. The wedding. That word felt like a knife lately. I took a deep breath, twisting my fingers together.
"Mum, Matt doesn't love me," I said, forcing the words out before fear stopped me. "He doesn't even love you. That I'm very sure of."
She finally looked up, and I saw the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "Oh, Amelia," she sighed. "Here you come again with your hate for Matt."
"It's not hate, Mum!" I blurted out, my chest tightening. "Matt is dangerous. I know what I'm saying. Please… for once in your life, listen to me."
For a second, I thought she would. She stared at me quietly, and I could almost see her heart fighting to believe me. But then she shook her head, her voice firm again.
"Amelia, Matt is a good man. He's been nothing but kind to us. And he'll be a good father to you." She gathered the papers on the table, not meeting my eyes anymore. "Case closed. Now, go get ready for school."
I stood there, frozen. My words hung in the air, unacknowledged and unwanted. My mother moved past me, humming softly, as if nothing had happened.
I couldn't sleep that night. The house was quiet—too quiet. Even the clock on the wall ticked softly, as if it feared disturbing the storm brewing inside me.
It's been days since Matt showed me who he truly was—his eyes dark with threats, his smile hiding danger. Every time I replayed his words, I felt my stomach twist. He wasn't marrying my mum out of love. He wanted control. Power. Maybe even to destroy us.
But how could I make Mum see it? She wouldn't listen. She never did. She thought I was being dramatic—just another angry teenage daughter trying to ruin her happiness. If only she knew.
I sat by my window, the night air brushing against my face. The wedding was only three days away. Three days before my mother walked into a trap she'd never escape.
"I can't let it happen," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. "Not when I know the truth."
I needed to stop the wedding. Somehow.
Maybe… maybe if I went missing, she would have no choice but to stop everything until I was found. That would buy me time—time to find proof, time to make her see who Matt really was.
My heart pounded as the thought settled in. Could I really do it? Leave home? Leave her?
Tears filled my eyes. I looked around my room—the familiar walls, the pictures of Mum and me smiling back when everything was still normal. My throat tightened.
"I'm sorry, Mum," I whispered. "But this is the only way."
I packed a small bag—just a few clothes, my phone, and some money I'd been hiding. My hands shook as I zipped it up. Every sound in the house felt louder than it should—the creak of the floorboard, the hum of the fridge, the wind brushing against the curtains.
I paused at my door, my heart aching. I could almost hear Mum's soft humming from her room down the hall. She was probably dreaming about her wedding day—her big, perfect day.
If only she knew she was marrying a monster.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to move. Down the stairs, one step at a time. My eyes stung with tears I didn't want to fall, but they did anyway.
When I reached the front door, I hesitated. My fingers lingered on the doorknob. My chest felt tight—like something inside me was tearing apart.
"Please forgive me," I whispered.
Then I ran.
The night air hit me hard, cold and heavy with the scent of rain. My slippers slapped against the pavement as I moved faster, my tears blurring the path ahead. The world was dark, quiet—except for my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
Each step away from the house made me feel both free and broken. My lungs burned, my legs ached, but I couldn't stop. I didn't even know where I was going—just away. Away from the danger, away from the wedding, away from the lies.
Behind me, the house grew smaller, its lights dimming until it vanished into the night.
I walked out of the house without being seen by anyone, slipping quietly into the night. The streets I once knew to be filled with laughter and happy strolls back from school now felt empty—haunted by memories that no longer brought warmth. My feet moved on their own, carrying me toward an unknown destination, while my thoughts screamed louder than the silence around me.
Why would Matt be so mean and cruel to me? Why does he want to marry my mum if he doesn't love her—or even like me?
What does he really want?
And why would my own mother be so blind to see the truth staring right at her?
My chest tightened as the questions ran wild in my head, mixing with the sound of crickets and the soft whisper of the wind. I didn't know where I was going; I only knew I had to get away. Away from the lies, the fear, the pain. But as I walked, my vision began to blur. My legs felt weak. I hadn't eaten all day, and the streetlights seemed to spin in circles.
The last thing I remembered was the sound of a car horn blaring—and then, everything went dark
When I opened my eyes, the ceiling above me was white. The air smelled like antiseptic and medicine. My body felt heavy, and there was something cold and sharp pressed into the back of my hand, a drip. My head throbbed as I slowly turned, my vision clearing.
"Mum?" My voice came out weak and cracked.
"Oh, Amelia!" Mum's voice trembled as she rushed to my side, eyes swollen from crying. She grabbed my hand tightly, her tears falling onto my fingers. "Oh, thank God you're awake, baby."
Before I could respond, I saw him—Matt—standing beside her, his expression unreadable. His hands were shoved into his pockets, but there was something in his eyes that made my skin crawl.
"You scared everyone, Amelia," he said calmly, though his tone carried something cold underneath. "You shouldn't have run away like that. You could've been killed."