Chapter 5

The funeral was held in their hometown. A somber gathering of families, friends, relatives, coworkers, their teachers, and Agatha's friends who came to pay their respects. It was the cloudiest day of Denise's life. Even the black theme of the day seemed pale compared to the darkness that had taken residence in her heart. Realizing she would never again taste Mom’s cookies, feel her fingers brushing her hair, or make love cards on Dad’s birthday made her lose taste for living.

Denise was only able to survive because of her sister, who became the rock she leaned on.

After days of intense discussions between the two families, it was decided that it was best the girls go live with Aunt Lilian, who was a widow.

So that was how they left the city for the quiet life of the town. Aunt Lilian always made them feel comfortable and happy, going the extra mile to do that. She was genuinely kind to them, and Denise was grateful they had her. But, no matter how warm her home was, she could never replace their parents.

Aunt Lilian worked at the local postal office, and every time she went to work, Denise and her sister would wander down to the stream, enjoying the serene silence that wrapped around the water. It became their refuge. But Saturdays were much more lively, they could go to the movies, parks, or attend gallery auctions, and they even went camping once. Sundays were for church, long hours of sermons followed by Bible quizzes at home, where the winner could request anything she wanted. Denise wished she could have her parents back, but that was impossible, even to the Almighty God.

Agatha still kept in touch with her friends, and when they came visiting, they brought large bags of chips, vanilla cupcakes, and plenty of sweets for Denise. Life seemed okay, or at least that's what everyone thought. Unknown to them, Denise was being bullied.

The girls in the neighborhood had become a constant pain in the ass. At first, it was just verbal taunts and mocking, which she shrugged off, telling herself the girls were just acting out because of their own broken homes. But the harassment escalated quickly. Soon they were throwing sticks at her, yet she stayed silent, afraid that if she spoke up, she would be sent away.

Sadly, things didn't go as she hoped. That day, on her way back home from the salon, she was cornered by two mean-looking girls, who blocked her path. “What do you want?” She asked, glancing around for anyone who might help, but it was a lonely pathway.

The taller girl stepped forward, landing a brutal blow to Denise's nose. She cried out and stumbled as the girl taunted, “Come on, get up and fight me back, you little piece of shit.”

Denise got up, one hand clamped over her nose as warm blood seeped through her fingers.

“Oh, looks like someone got a broken nose,” the second girl sneered, kicking her on the stomach. “But that's not going to stop us from teaching you a lesson,” she added with a vicious kick to Denise’s face, sending her collapsing to the ground.

Blood dripped from Denise’s mouth as she tried to get up, but a sharp pain tore through her body, forcing her back down. The world turned blurry, and the ground spun beneath her. One of the girls picked up a large stick and raised it, aiming it at her. Denise closed her eyes, bracing for the worst when a familiar voice cut through the chaos.

“Don’t you dare.”

She opened her eyes to see the girl with the stick charging at her sister, but Agatha moved quickly, dodging the wild swing before sending the attacker crashing to the ground with a sharp kick to the chest. Without hesitation, she went after the other girl, pinning her to the ground. Agatha grabbed a sharp-edged stone and pointed it at the girl's face.

“Please,” the girl begged through tears, “I wasn't the one hurting her, please.” Agatha's eyes blazed with fury. “If you ever lay a finger on my sister ever again, I promise I will hunt you down and torture you to death.”

“I won't… I swear, please let me go.” She whimpered. The other girl, still on the ground, scrambled backwards on her palms, realizing too late that Agatha wasn't the kind of person you picked a fight with.

“Get lost.” Agatha ordered.

Neither of the girls needed to be told twice before they stumbled to their feet, tripping over each other as they ran down the path, without looking back. Only when they were gone did Agatha let the stone fall from her hand. The rage drained from her face as she turned to Denise lying on the ground. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, lifting her gently as she inspected her injuries.

“I think my nose is broken,” Denise muttered. Agatha crouched down and guided Denise onto her back. She obeyed, resting her face against her sister's shoulder, arms wrapped loosely around her.

“No more going out alone,” Agatha stated, her voice firm but trembling with fear she couldn't hide. Denise didn’t reply, as the pain made speaking difficult.

“Ow…ouch, it hurts,” she winced when the nurse cleaned her nose.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t broken,” she assured her. “Just a small cut.”

“I’m all done,” she added soothingly, applying the pain reliever and plastic strips. Denise got some stitches on her face; that would definitely leave a scar, but that was the least of her worries. She was more shaken by Aunt Lilian's reaction. She hadn’t seen her cry since the funeral. She blamed herself for not protecting her, and her anger extended to the girls' parents as well. But soon enough, the bullying stopped, and the girls who once tormented Denise avoided her like a plague. That, at least, brought her some relief.

Chapter 6

Summer break was over, and Agatha had to leave for the city to attend college. She tried to hide her excitement, tried to tuck it behind a calm smile, but Denise saw it clearly, how happy she was that her dreams were becoming reality. Denise understood, she really did, yet Agatha's leaving made her feel like she was losing another piece of her heart all over again.

As they packed up her things, Agatha carefully handed over her whole collection of hair ribbons to Denise, each one tied to a memory neither of them would forget.

“You promise never to leave me,” Denise whispered, her voice shaking.

“I know, love, but I have to go to school and get a job so I can take care of you.” Agatha said, running her fingers through Denise's hair. “You know that, right?”

Denise looked down, ashamed of being clingy. She knew Agatha was right and knew she was being selfish. Her sister had her own life to live. Still, the thought of facing the world without Agatha by her side filled her with a gnawing fear…one she didn't know how to name but only felt.

Agatha paused her packing and tilted Denise’s chin up with soft fingers. “Hey,” she said, smiling, “I’m not disappearing. It’s just school, and I'll come back every chance I get.”

Though Denise could see the sadness lingering behind it, a shadow of the goodbye they were both trying to delay.

She nodded, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen; the house already felt different, as if it knew Agatha was preparing to leave.

They spent the rest of the afternoon folding clothes and stacking books, and every now and then, Agatha would pull her into a long, warm embrace that made Denise wish time would freeze for just a moment, long enough for her to breathe without hurting.

“College isn’t forever,” Agatha reminded her gently. “It’s just a few years, and then everything will be better for both of us.” She reached for Denise’s hand and squeezed it. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Denise wanted to believe her; she wanted to be strong and wanted to be happy for her sister without falling apart. But courage didn’t come easily, not when the person she leaned on was walking toward a world she wasn’t part of.

That night, as they lay side by side on the bed they once shared, Denise listened as Agatha breathed. She memorized the rhythm, knowing she wouldn’t hear it every night anymore. And though she tried to stay awake, afraid of losing even a minute, her eyes drifted shut, her hand still wrapped around her sister’s.

Morning came far too quickly.

“I promise to always call and come visit,” Agatha said. “Now promise me you'll be a good girl, pinky swear?” She held out her little finger. They giggled as their fingers hooked together.

“Always tell Aunt Lilian if you ever get into trouble. Eat your meals on time, and no trashing your salad, huh?” Agatha added, her voice suddenly serious.

Denise rolled her eyes and teased, “Jeez, I promise. You are beginning to sound like Mom!” But her smile faded when Agatha looked away, fighting back her tears. Denise sighed softly. “Great, why did I have to ruin the mood?”

“You should start going now. Someone is getting impatient,” Aunt Lilian said, gesturing toward Uncle Andrew waiting in the car. She pulled Agatha into a tight hug. “Take care.”

Agatha smiled at her before turning to Denise. “I'm going to miss you.” She hugged her sister firmly, then picked up her bag and walked to the car.

“Agatha!” Denise's voice cracked as she ran after her, throwing her arms around her one last time. “I love you.”

“I love you too, so much,” Agatha replied before stepping into the car.

Denise stood there watching as they drove away. The farther the car went, the blurrier it became. It wasn't her vision failing; it was her tears.

****

“That would be all for now. She can start tomorrow,” the registrar announced, pulling Denise back from the past. She checked the form, ensuring everything was in order, and then stamped it. “Please, proceed to the cashier and make all the necessary payments,” she added, shaking hands with her aunt before flashing Denise a strange smile.

****

“Denise, Denise, you are going to be late for school.” Her aunt’s voice echoed in her head. She opened her eyes and stared at the clock on the wall.

6:30 a.m.

“Ugh, I hate school.” Dragging herself out of bed, she trudged to the bathroom.

Denise ran her fingers through her short black hair, staring at her reflection, deep blue eyes that fit perfectly on her chubby face, with a faint scar above her left eyebrow. She felt like a mess compared to her sister, who always looked like a goddess.

“Yuck. This is so not cool,” she muttered after putting on her school dress.

Her aunt chuckled behind her. “Don’t say that. It suits you perfectly; besides, you have to wear it every day.” She winked, making Denise roll her eyes, trying not to smile.

School was as dull as ever. She slouched into her new class, got introduced to the teacher, jotted down notes, stuck to herself, and ignored anyone who tried to talk to her. That was basically her routine.

Yet despite all that, Denise was slowly building her confidence. She was no longer the shy, fragile girl she used to be.

Chapter 7

“Denise Larsson, in my office. Now!” The teacher's voice cracked through the classroom, and every head in the class turned toward her.

Heat rushed to her face as she stood. She already knew why she was being called in.

The teacher pointed to a chair with a stiff flick of her hand. “Take a seat.”

Denise sat, glancing at her test paper lying on top of a stack of others. Her score was circled in red…bold and unforgiving. Her stomach twisted as if it were trying to fold in on itself.

“I compared your previous tests from your former school to this one,” the teacher said, sliding the paper closer. “I understand you are in a new environment and you need time to adjust. But this…” she tapped the red circle, “This is not acceptable. You either step up or get left behind.”

Denise kept her hands hidden under the table, fingers twitching against her palms.

“Look at the difference,” the teacher pressed. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Still nothing. Denise stared at the floor.

The teacher's heavy sigh filled the small room. “Come to school tomorrow with your guardian. You may leave my office.”

Denise rose stiffly and walked out, slamming the door so hard. That she could hear the teacher muttering complaints inside as she made her way down the hall.

---

She got home disappointed and starving. She fished her keys out of her backpack, and opened the door, heading straight to the kitchen to make a quick stack of sandwiches.

Once she was done, she took her plate to the living room and dropped onto the couch. She turned on the TV, flipping to her favorite channel just in time for the horror game show. Usually, she would be glued to it, but something just… felt off.

It had been weeks since Agatha last called. That wasn't like her at all.

With uneasiness prickling under her skin, Denise got up and went to her aunt’s room to use the landline. She dialed the home number, listening to the rings stretching longer than they should before her uncle finally picked up.

“Hello?”

“It’s me…Denise. I’m fine. Yeah… she is at work. Can I talk to my sister?”

There was a pause. Too long.

“Oh. Okay. Please tell her to call me when she gets back… hmm.” She hung up, the silence in the room was suddenly louder than the TV buzzing in the background.

Where could she be? Maybe still in class? College classes end later than High School. But Agatha always found time to call.

Denise tried to push the anxious thoughts away, but they kept circling back.

---

Her aunt usually came home from work at five and went straight to preparing dinner, with Denise helping chop, stir, or fetch whatever she needed. Tonight was no different. As they moved around the kitchen, Denise kept glancing at her aunt, trying to gather the courage to mention the teacher’s request.

She didn’t want dinner turning into another long interrogation about her grades, her choices and everything she wasn’t doing right.

“How was school, dear?” Aunt Lilian asked, chopping vegetables with quick, rhythmic motions.

“Fine,” Denise replied quietly, watching the pot of rice bubble near the brim as the steam fogged the lid.

After cooking, they ate dinner—chicken breast stew and a small bowl of fruit for dessert.

“I was thinking…” Aunt Lilian began, her voice brightening as she looked at Denise with hopeful, sparkling eyes. “Would you like to come with me to the Seminar this weekend? I have a feeling you will make new friends there.”

Denise shook her head, keeping her gaze on the TV.

No way I'm going to that boring seminar, nor do I want to make new friends.

A slight dizziness nudged her, and heaviness crept into her body.

“I’m off to bed,” she said, stretching slightly and rubbing her temple. She hesitated, stealing a glance at her aunt before speaking. “My teacher wants to see you tomorrow.” She blurted out quickly.

“Why? Did you get into trouble again?” Aunt Lilian asked, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then why does she want to see me?”

“I don’t know.” Denise shrugged and walked to her room, leaving her aunt frowning behind her.

---

She woke up screaming.

Sweat rolled down her face, her chest rising and falling too fast. The dark room only made her fear worse. The flashes kept replaying in her mind.

The door banged open. Aunt Lilian burst in and switched on the lights.

“Denise!” She moved to the bed and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. “Did you have a bad dream? It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe.” she whispered gently.

But the images refused to fade.

Agatha in a dark place, chained to the wall, her clothes torn and whip marks streaking her body. She was wailing, and her scream still echoed in Denise's mind.

Denise shivered as the scene tightened around her chest. She hadn't spoken to her in weeks, and the silence only sharpened the fear curling in her stomach.”

“I… want to talk to my sister,” she mumbled, her voice cracking.

“Not now, darling,” Aunt Lilian said gently. “She’s probably asleep, and calling this late will only wake the whole house.”

“But what if she’s in danger?” Denise said clutching the blanket, the nightmare still gripping her.

“I assure you, she is safe.” Her aunt replied firmly.

Denise swallowed hard. Aunt Lilian was right, calling now would only raise a false alarm.

“Can you stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” Aunt Lilian agreed, slipping under the covers beside her.

“Should I turn off the lights?” she asked softly.

“No…keep them on.”

Even with her aunt nearby, Denise couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The nightmare felt too real.

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