---

The warm glow of sunlight spilled through my window, filling the room with a golden hue. A gentle breeze brushed my face, but it did little to lift my spirits. "Oh, it's another day of boring uni," I sighed, running my fingers through my hair, feeling the weight of my impending responsibilities. Three long years stretched ahead of me, and the thought of finally finding some peace felt like a distant dream.

I didn't even want to work; the idea of taking a year off to travel and escape this suffocating reality was increasingly appealing. Somewhere far away, I could breathe freely, unburdened by expectations.

"ESTELLE! You better come down this instant!" My stepmom's voice cut through the air, sharp and filled with a venomous urgency.

"Easy there, old lady. I heard you," I muttered under my breath, irritation bubbling up as I quickly changed my clothes. If only I weren't dependent on them, I would have left this household long ago. My relationship with my father was a hollow echo; we barely spoke, and it felt like I was living under a roof built on resentment.

I couldn't remember the last time I felt his love. My mother, Angie, had died giving birth to me, and he had remarried Cassandra that same year. It felt like a betrayal, as if I had stolen his happiness. Cassandra seemed to revel in her role, quickly having two daughters, Elena and Chloe, and an elder son, Christ. Their family was a picture of joy-too bad I felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their lives.

Every day felt like a struggle against an invisible weight. I was desperate to move on, to break free from this narrative that left me feeling trapped. I just hoped these three years would pass as quickly as possible so I could finally write my own story.

---

Coming down the stairs, the familiar voices of Chloe and Elena shattered the silence of the house. Their bickering-two sisters locked in an endless war of words-was a regular sound around here. Chloe and Elena throwing tantrums at each other? Nothing new.

**Chloe** shot a look of disgust at Elena, her lips curling with disdain. "You're really wearing that again? It's no wonder your taste in clothes is as terrible as your attitude."

**Elena** tilted her head, smirking. "And here you are, still pretending like you're someone important. You know, you'd make a great reality star-'How to Be the Most Annoying Person in the Room.'"

**Chloe** let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Wow, Elena. That was almost clever. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you finally get some help for once?"

**Elena** stepped closer, her tone sharp and condescending. "Do you really think I care about what you say? The only thing worse than your outfit is your attitude. If anyone needs a makeover, it's you."

**Chloe** rolled her eyes and snorted. "Yeah, because you'd know anything about style. Maybe if you spent less time copying my looks and more time actually trying, you'd stop looking like a half-dead mannequin."

**Elena** raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Please. I'd rather look dead than deal with your constant need for attention. Maybe if you didn't bury your face in every mirror you saw, you wouldn't be so obsessed with convincing everyone you're worth something."

**Chloe** stepped forward, venom in her voice. "You think you're better than me just because you throw out a few insults? Newsflash: it's not that impressive. You're still the girl no one remembers once they leave the room."

---

"Pffft." The sound slipped out of me before I could stop it, the laugh escaping like a guilty whisper as Chloe and I locked eyes on the stairs.

Chloe's face twisted in rage. "Did you just laugh, you crackhead?" Her voice was shrill, slicing through the room, as if it could reach deep inside me and rip something out. Her anger was almost inherited from their mother-strong and unrelenting.

Elena, with her usual air of indifference, hurried to greet me. "Ew, why even bother waking up?" she sneered, as if the sight of me was an affront to her perfect morning.

And there it was-the only time I ever saw them act like twins, both trying to provoke or intimidate me.

I forced a smile. "Good morning to you too, sisters. Looking as pretty as ever." I said it lightly, but my voice was sharp, like a challenge. They stood frozen, staring blankly at me. For once, they didn't have a retort ready, and it felt oddly refreshing.

Chloe muttered, her voice barely a whisper, "Ha, at least you have some common sense, even with that ugly face."

I ignored her, turning towards the kitchen. I usually didn't eat breakfast with them, especially when **Chris** was around. As much as Chloe and Elena were suffocating and insufferable, they were nothing compared to him. But lately, he hadn't been around. It was quiet, too quiet.

I wandered around the house, aimless. Maybe, just maybe, I could find some peace here for a change.

I walked into the kitchen to find my father, eyes glued to his phone, as usual. Cassandra was talking to him like he was the only person in the world who mattered. I couldn't tell if that hurt or annoyed me more. Maybe both.

"Good morning, Father," I said firmly, my voice cutting through the silence.

Nothing. Silence.

It was normal, of course. But today, the emptiness in the air felt heavier, thicker than before. Cassandra glanced at me with that same disgust, like my very presence was a stain she couldn't wait to scrub away.

She looked perfect with her blonde hair, light green eyes, and flawless skin. Chloe and Elena were perfect copies of her. Beautiful, sure, but the ugliness in their personalities was undeniable. And I? I was the odd one out. My hair was jet black, catching the light and radiating a faint blue, and my eyes were a soft brown-nowhere near as striking as theirs. And my skin? Fair, almost pale. A constant reminder that I didn't fit in.

I should have left. I had promised myself so many times I wouldn't sit here again. But there I was. Desperate for something, anything, to feel like I belonged.

I stood up to leave, when my father's voice, cold and indifferent, broke through the silence.

"Estelle"

My heart sank. This couldn't be good. The only time he ever said my name was when it was about something important, or work-related. A flood of nerves overtook me-what could he possibly want now? Maybe he would finally ask about my studies, maybe offer me a ride to college. But deep down, I knew he didn't care. He never had but I had a small ..just a little hope...

"I need you to leave the house as soon as possible."

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach.

Silence.

Chloe, Elena-both of them just stared. Chris, who normally would have something to say, remained silent. Even Cassandra seemed momentarily stunned, her face faltering as if the world had stopped spinning. I stood there, frozen, the gravity of his words sinking in.

Where would I go?

I had nowhere. No place to turn. No one.

"Father... w-what are you... saying?" My voice cracked. My hands were trembling uncontrollably. My tears threatened to spill, but I forced them back. My heart was racing, pounding in my chest. I couldn't breathe. How could he do this to me? I only had three more years before I could leave on my own terms, but now-now he was taking that away from me too.

A rush of emotions tore through me-anger, hurt, confusion. *You can't just chase me away. This is my home too.* The thought bubbled up, but I couldn't make the words come out.

"Please... please say something-just say it was a mistake. Tell me you misspoke. Just say anything, Father."

But the look he gave me was cold-empty, like he was looking through me. No warmth. No hatred. Just... nothing. Maybe even disdain.

"I need you out of the house by next week. I'm not giving you more than that."

His words hit me like a hammer. They echoed in my head, making it hard to think.

"This is a joke, right?" I asked, my voice trembling. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor, my body heavy, my mind reeling.

He looked down at me, unmoved, and silent.

"But... I'm your daughter." The words felt hollow in my mouth, like a broken promise, but it was all I had left

---

The weight of my father's words pressed down on me like a thousand bricks. The silence in the room was suffocating, and I couldn't seem to escape the thick air that wrapped around me like chains.

I stood there, barely able to process what he had said. It felt like I was drowning in disbelief, the world around me spinning, collapsing. My chest was tight, my throat burning, but I couldn't cry. I just... couldn't.

"Estelle, I need you out of this house by next week," his voice was cold, indifferent, and it echoed in my head long after the words had been spoken. I stared at him, my heart racing, my mind struggling to comprehend the meaning of it all.

I turned away, my legs moving on their own, carrying me down the stairs and out of the house I once called home. The cool morning air hit my face, but it was no comfort. The world felt too big, too harsh, and I didn't know where to go.

---

At college, the noise was almost too much to bear. The laughter of students, the chatter, the clatter of shoes on linoleum-it was all so loud, so bright. It was a world I didn't belong in anymore, not after what had happened at home.

As I walked across campus, the familiar whispers and stares followed me. I couldn't escape them. People always noticed me, but it wasn't for the right reasons. They whispered about my family, about my 'outcast' status. I could feel their eyes on me, their judgment hanging in the air.

The boys, of course, didn't help. They always seemed to be chasing after the same group of popular girls, but occasionally their eyes would flicker in my direction, and I could feel the way they ogled me like I was a puzzle they wanted to solve. It was nothing new, but today, it all felt like too much.

"Hey, Estelle," a voice called from behind me. I didn't turn around. I didn't have to. I knew who it was-Jake. One of those boys who would flirt one second, then forget your name the next. He was always nice enough, but it never meant anything. "You going to the party tonight?"

I didn't reply, keeping my gaze focused on the ground as I kept walking.

"Come on, Estelle. Don't be like that," he continued, his voice too eager. "You know you should come. You'd be the highlight of the night."

I glanced back at him, forcing a tight smile, but it was all an act. "Thanks, but I'm not really in the mood," I said, my voice lacking its usual edge.

Jake shrugged, not really caring. "Suit yourself. You sure you'll be alright, though?" He raised an eyebrow, his tone almost condescending.

I didn't answer. Instead, I kept walking, feeling the familiar sting of rejection and isolation. The rest of the day dragged on-more whispers, more stares, more boys trying to get my attention, all while I wished I could disappear.

---

By the time the last class ended, the exhaustion of the day began to settle into my bones. I couldn't face another minute in this place. I needed to be somewhere quiet, away from everything and everyone.

But the truth was, there was no escape from the chaos inside me. The fact that my father had asked me to leave... it lingered like a weight I couldn't shake off.

I made my way home, my steps slow, heavy. The house loomed ahead, but there was no sense of warmth in it anymore. No sense of safety. When I walked through the door, I felt it-the coldness, the emptiness of a place that no longer felt like home.

I couldn't stay.

My father's words echoed in my mind once again. "I need you out of the house by next week."

I wandered aimlessly around the house, searching for something, anything, to hold onto. But there was nothing. No comfort. No warmth.

---

Finally, the weight of it all became too much.

I turned and left the house without thinking. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the streets, but I didn't care. I didn't even notice.

I ran.

I ran through the streets, my heart pounding, my thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and pain. "Why? Why? Why?" The words escaped me in desperate whispers, my voice cracking under the strain.

I didn't know where I was going-just away. Away from the house, away from my father, away from everything that had once felt like my reality.

The night was falling fast, and the streets were empty. The cold air bit at my skin, but I didn't care. My breath came in short, ragged bursts as I stumbled over the pavement. My heart was breaking, and no matter how far I ran, it didn't seem to stop.

"Why?" I whispered to the dark, my voice barely audible as I collapsed against a streetlamp, my body trembling uncontrollably. "Why did this happen? Why am I the one who has to leave?"

I pulled at my hair, clutching it tightly, but nothing would ease the pain.

"Just.....Why?" I asked again, my voice breaking this time, my knees giving way as I sank to the ground.

The world was silent. Cold. And I was so, so alone.

---

I couldn't breathe. My chest felt tight, suffocating under the weight of everything-the tears, the frustration, the feeling of being completely lost.

And then I heard it.

"E-Estelle..."

It was soft, almost like a whisper, but it seemed to float in the air around me. I stopped dead in my tracks, my hands trembling as I wiped the tears from my face. My heart raced, and for a moment, I thought I was imagining things.

"Estelle" the voice came again, but this time it was clearer. My name echoed in my head, not spoken aloud but somehow deeper, as if it were calling from inside me.

I glanced around, looking for anyone. There was no one. The street was still, the distant hum of traffic the only sound.

I took a hesitant step forward, my body feeling heavy, my mind trying to grasp the reality of what was happening. Maybe I was just going crazy-after all, everything else was falling apart. But I couldn't shake the feeling that it was real.

Suddenly, the air around me seemed to shift, like a subtle breeze I couldn't quite feel but could sense. I stopped, heart pounding in my ears. A streetlamp flickered, its light dimming for just a second before flicking back on.

And then-without warning-a small object, a stone that had been lying near the curb, shifted slightly, rolling an inch toward me as if pushed by an invisible hand. My breath hitched in my throat. I blinked and shook my head, thinking it was just the stress playing tricks on me. But no-there it was again.

The voice called out once more, "Estelle, it's time to listen."

I stood still, trying to make sense of what I was experiencing. This wasn't normal. None of this made sense. I wasn't even sure I believed in any of this kind of thing, but somehow, it felt like something was waking up inside me-something I didn't understand.

I took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the strange energy I couldn't control. The voice wasn't hostile. It wasn't demanding. But it was there, and it was real.

Without another thought, I turned and ran, my breath sharp and quick in my throat, my heart thundering like a drum in my chest. The night was still silent, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was following me-something I wasn't ready to face....