Élise
I woke up in the dimness of the room, the cold light of the moon filtering through the curtains, casting long, distorted shadows on the walls. The memories of the mirror were still fresh in my mind, like a persistent burn, a constant reminder of the past I had tried to bury. Damien was still there, sitting in an armchair near the window, watching outside, as though he was waiting for something. Maybe he was waiting for me to recover from what I had just discovered.
I turned my gaze toward him, my eyes filled with confusion and distress, as they always were when I thought about what I had seen. The revelations had only added layers of pain to a wound that was already deep. I had seen the truth, but this truth, as liberating as it was, had only amplified the sense of betrayal eating away at me.
I slowly sat up, the wrinkled sheets tangled around my body. The silence in the room felt heavy, too heavy. Finally, I broke the silence, my voice trembling but firm.
"Why did you make me see that? Why did you push me into those shadows?"
Damien turned his face toward me, his expression initially impassive, before his eyes softened with a flash of empathy. "Because you couldn't keep running, Élise. The past would always catch up with you, one way or another. What you saw… it's a part of yourself you've ignored for too long. Now, you have the chance to heal, to understand, but only if you face what you've been through."
I lowered my eyes, my fists clenched against my knees, a quiet anger bubbling inside me. "Heal?" I repeated bitterly. "I'm broken, Damien. What you showed me isn't healing. It's a wound, a new scar I'll have to learn to live with."
Damien stood up and walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder in a gesture that was both protective and possessive. "You're not alone in this, Élise. You have more strength than you're willing to admit. All you have to do is choose what you're going to do with this truth."
I shook my head, trying to pull away from his touch. "You don't understand. You didn't grow up carrying this kind of weight. It's not that simple."
He stepped back slightly, giving me space to breathe, but his eyes never left me. He knew that, despite everything, I was struggling with the same intensity he had once known, with the demons that had shaped him. "Maybe. But I know what it's like to carry a burden you didn't choose. I have my secrets too, Élise. And I'm not here to judge you, but to offer you a path, a possibility of finding peace."
I turned my gaze toward him, trying to decipher his words, but they remained as enigmatic as he was. There was something almost inhuman in his ability to face his own shadows, and I wondered if he too had wounds as deep as mine. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wasn't condemned to be a prisoner of my past. But how could I face everything I had discovered without breaking even further?
"What if I don't want to heal?" I whispered, almost to myself. "What if I'd rather stay in this pain, let it consume me?"
Damien stared at me for a long moment, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Pain can destroy you, Élise. But it can also teach you. If you choose to accept it, to understand it, you'll find a strength you never imagined. But if you let the pain control you, it will devour you."
I looked away, my gaze fixed on the emptiness in front of me, my thoughts spinning. The wind was blowing outside, a heavy, cold breath, like a warning of what lay ahead. The truth had changed something in me, something that could not be erased. But what good was it to keep running from it? I didn't have answers to my questions, but I knew that the road to healing, however difficult it might be, could not be traveled without confronting what I had hidden.
I slowly got up, feeling my legs tremble beneath me. "I don't know if I'll be able to bear all of this," I confessed, my words barely audible.
"You don't have to do it alone," Damien replied, his voice now softer. "I'm here, Élise. And I'll be here, no matter the pain, no matter the trials."
I looked at him then, for the first time without suspicion, but with a strange sense of trust mixed with fear. He was not just a mysterious man, nor a simple refuge. He was a mirage, a door opened to a world I didn't know, but one that might, perhaps, help me find myself again.
"And now?" I asked, ready to move forward, even though my heart was heavy with doubts.
"Now," he said, offering me a faint but determined smile, "we begin to rebuild, one step at a time."
As I followed him, I knew a long road lay ahead. A road paved with revelations, confrontations, but also redemption. The weight of the past would never disappear, but it would no longer be my master.