Lexi's eyes snapped open, her heart racing as she gasped for air. The darkness surrounding her was suffocating, heavy with the weight of her father's anger. She felt the familiar ache in her cheek, the metallic taste of blood on her lips.
"Please, Daddy, stop," she whispered, her voice trembling.
But the words were lost in the void, swallowed by the shadows that haunted her. The memories of that night, of every night, swirled together in a maddening dance, each step a fresh cut, each breath a new scream.
Lexi's hands instinctively rose to her face, tracing the curve of her cheekbone, the line of her jaw. The pain was a reminder, a warning to never let her guard down, to never trust anyone.
As she lay there, frozen in the darkness, Lexi made a vow to herself: she would escape, she would survive, and she would never look back.
But the shadows knew her secrets, and they whispered a haunting truth: some scars run too deep, some wounds never heal.
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