I cried so hard that day in the school bathroom that the walls practically echoed with the sound. My sobs bounced off the tiles, sharp and bitter, like broken glass scattered around me.

I cursed her name until my voice trembled.

She took what I had always wanted. She didn’t even realize what she had stolen. It didn’t matter, because the damage was already done.

But they dated, and Ethan seemed genuinely happy. I had never seen him smile with that kind of brightness before, full of warmth and life. It hurt, but I forced myself to swallow it and pretend I was fine.

I tried to be proud of him and tried to be the “good friend,” but every attempt felt like another crack in my chest.

I kept telling myself that losing him meant nothing, but the lie never stuck. Inside, I quietly fell apart.

Eventually, I stared at my reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror and made a promise to myself.

I told myself to move on, to take back control of my life. That moment felt like the beginning of something new, even if it hurt.

Maybe that was when I realized I was meant to be a sister, not a girl hopelessly in love with someone who never loved me back.

I tried to bury those memories and the ache that came with them. I thought it would be easier if I let everything go.

And then they broke up.

Ava dumped Ethan for the new school hottie.

Their relationship collapsed so quickly it felt like watching a paper wall fall apart in the rain.

“Elysia…” Ethan’s voice was warm when he opened his apartment door that evening, and he gave me a smile that almost looked foreign.

He hugged me before I could speak, and the familiar scent of his cologne wrapped around me like a memory I wasn’t ready for.

This was only my second time here, but the silence inside the apartment made it feel like a stranger’s home.

The last time I had been here, the place had been full of laughter. Now it felt empty and uncomfortable, as if the air had been drained out. I stood there trying to breathe normally.

“Wow, look at you,” I said, trying to lighten the tension between us. “How long has it been?”

“A year,” he said with a small chuckle that didn’t match his eyes. “Too long, honestly.”

“Feels longer,” I murmured.

He gestured toward the couch. “Please, sit.”

I sat down and smoothed my habit with nervous fingers. Every movement felt louder in the room than it should have.

“What should I get you?” he asked as he stood over me.

“Just water,” I said quietly.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

I watched him disappear around the corner toward what I assumed was the kitchen. My eyes wandered around the apartment, taking in the shining furniture, the spotless floors, and the expensive decor.

His parents had always been wealthy, and the room still looked more like a showroom than an actual living space.

“There you go,” he said when he returned and handed me a glass of water.

“Thank you,” I whispered and took a slow sip. My throat felt dry, but the water tasted strange.

“You’re welcome,” he said, watching me carefully.

His gaze softened for a moment before sharpening again, as if he was studying every shift in my expression.

“How’ve you been, Elysia?” he asked quietly.

“You look different… beautiful, even. But I won’t lie — it hurts knowing you’re in the convent now.”

Oh, really.

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” I replied firmly.

He lifted an eyebrow and leaned back. “Really? Because in high school you wanted college, psychology, maybe business. You used to talk about it all the time.”

“People change, Ethan,” I said, trying not to sound irritated. “Everyone has the right to choose what they want for themselves.”

He stared at me longer than necessary, his gaze heavy and unsettling. It felt like he was trying to read my mind or peel apart my thoughts.

A strange coldness crept into my chest.

“Ethan, are you okay?” I asked gently as I set the glass down on the table.

“Of course,” he said, forcing a shaky smile. “Are you done drinking?”

“Not really.”

I took another sip to steady myself, but something in my vision flickered at the edges. I blinked twice, trying to clear the sudden dizziness spreading through my head.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah… maybe just a little dizzy,” I murmured.

I tried to laugh it off, but even my voice sounded weak.

My head felt heavier with each second. My palms grew damp against the fabric of my habit. Something inside me began to twist with fear.

Ethan leaned closer, and that strange, fixed smile stayed on his face. The shift in his expression made my stomach drop.

What is happening to me?

He dragged his chair nearer until our knees almost touched. His presence felt overwhelming now.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Liana?” he asked softly, his tone darker than before. His hand rested on my thigh as if he had every right to touch me.

I flinched. “Ethan— what are you doing?” My voice barely escaped my throat, weak and trembling. I tried to pull back, but my limbs felt too heavy to move.

“Nothing,” he said, his breath unsteady. “I just can’t stop admiring you. I wish you’d stop this convent decision and let me love you, Ely.”

“What?” My heart dropped into my stomach.

This wasn’t Ethan.

Not the boy who rescued cats from trees.

Not the boy who carried my books and teased me about my handwriting.

Not the boy who used to sit beside me in class and draw tiny hearts in the margins of my notebook.

I tried to stand up, but my legs trembled beneath me. I could barely hold myself upright.

“Ethan… did you put something in the water?”

His smile cracked for a single second before he covered it again. “Just something to help you relax. I need you to actually listen to me for once.”

Relax.

No.

This wasn’t relaxation — this was helplessness settling into my bones.

“Ethan, why would you do that?” My voice shook uncontrollably.

“You’re my best friend. We’ve known each other our whole lives. I’m going to take my vows tomorrow. Why would you do something like this?”

“Forget the church!” he shouted suddenly, and the force of it made me jump.

His anger filled the room like smoke.

He ran a hand through his hair, agitated and frantic.

“I want you, Elysia. I’ve always wanted you. I’m not losing you to some convent or some vow or God or anyone.”

Terror crept slowly up my spine like ice water.

“Ethan… you’re scaring me,” I whispered.

He stood abruptly and paced the room, muttering to himself.

His movements were sharp, angry, and unrecognizable, like a stranger had borrowed his body.

“Everything I’ve ever done,” he said with a trembling voice, “was for you. And now you’re running away into a life where I don’t belong.”

My head pounded harder, as if each word made the room spin faster. I felt trapped inside my own body, unable to move or think clearly.

Before I could gather my thoughts, he lunged toward me. His hands were rough and desperate as he grabbed my arms and shoved me back against the couch.

I tried to scream, but the sound came out broken, swallowed by fear.

“Stop… please stop,” I cried, pushing at his chest, but he didn’t care.

His fingers dug into my skin as he tore at my clothes. The ripping sound echoed in the room like a threat. My dress split open. My underwear snapped against my skin before he ripped it away completely.

I curled my legs, trying to protect myself, but he forced them apart with a strength that made my whole body shake.

“No! Please—don’t—” My voice cracked.

He didn’t listen.

He didn’t even pause.

Pain tore through me so violently that my scream broke into a sob. Tears streamed down my face as I clawed at the sheets, anything, trying to escape the agony spreading through me.

“It hurts—please—stop—it hurts—!” I cried out, but he pressed harder, ignoring my shaking, ignoring my pain, ignoring the sound of my voice ripping apart.

Every movement felt like fire cutting through my body.

It felt like my bones were breaking.

I could barely breathe. I choked on my own tears.

My nails scraped the floor. My legs trembled uncontrollably as I tried to push him away, but he held me down easily, as if my struggle meant nothing.

I begged him again and again. I screamed until my throat burned. But he never stopped.

He acted as if my pain didn’t matter.

As if I didn’t matter.

When it finally ended, he pulled away with no emotion at all, breathing hard but calm, as if he had simply finished something he felt entitled to.

I lay there shaking violently, unable to close my legs, unable to lift my arms, unable to stop the sobs pouring out of me.

Every part of me hurt. My body felt torn apart. I could not even hold myself together.

He returned with a pile of clothes — his clothes — and placed them beside me with a strange calmness that sent chills through me. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

“You should put these on,” he said softly.

“I don’t hate you, Elysia. I want to take care of you. I want to be your boyfriend.”

The word “boyfriend” sent a sharp twist through my stomach. He wasn’t acting like himself. He wasn’t thinking like himself. Something had snapped inside him.

With trembling hands, I gathered the torn remains of my habit. Shame and fear pressed against my ribs like knives.

I felt exposed, cornered, and broken in ways I couldn’t fully understand.

“I hope God forgives you, Ethan,” I whispered. My voice cracked, small and fragile. “Because I don’t know if I can.”

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, something unreadable flickered there.

It wasn’t regret.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quietly. “I’m not leaving you. I want to be with you.”

“You’re not okay,” I managed, my voice shaking. “You’re pretending this is nothing. Ethan… you drugged me. You manipulated me. You took advantage of our friendship. That is not love.”

God is going to judge you, and I’m sure He will.

My eyes stayed glued to the blood on the chair, and the sight felt like a wound that kept opening wider each time I looked.

I backed away from the room with shaking legs and stumbled toward my car as if running from a nightmare.

Shame wrapped around my chest so tightly that every breath burned and made my body feel too heavy to carry.

Why did I go to see him when he was the only person I still trusted?

The question stabbed me again and again, each time sharper, each time crueler, as if my own mind wanted to punish me.

My fingers tapped the steering wheel in frantic, broken rhythms while tears refused to stop falling.

I cried until my voice cracked and my chest felt hollow, like something inside me had been carved out with a knife.

With blurry eyes, I turned on the engine and drove away from that house that had ruined everything.

I kept my pain locked inside like a scream trapped in my throat, afraid it would destroy me if I let it out.

When I reached home and stepped out of the car, I saw my parents talking outside.

Their calm voices hit me like a slap because my world was falling apart while theirs remained untouched.

“Mommy…” I whispered weakly before my knees gave out and I collapsed on the ground.

The world spun wildly around me, as if it too had shattered into pieces.

I blinked several times before my vision returned, slow and foggy.

Faces hovered over me, forcing small smiles that felt wrong, as if they were trying to fix something already broken.

I tried to sit up quickly, but someone caught my arm and gently pushed me back onto the bed.

Their touch was soft, but my body flinched as if it expected pain again.

“Elysia,” my mother whispered as her fingers brushed through my tangled hair.

Her voice was too gentle, too steady, like she was afraid I would break apart if she spoke any louder.

“Mom…” I cried again, and the sobs tore through me like sharp blades cutting from the inside.

My whole body shook, remembering everything I desperately wished I could forget.

“Baby, breathe,” she murmured, trying to calm me, but nothing inside me felt calm or safe.

“Tell us what happened. You’ve been asleep since yesterday, and Mother Superior is worried. You were supposed to take your vows today, remember?”

The reminder hit me like freezing water poured over my heart.

I felt my future crumble in my hands, the life I planned falling apart like fragile glass.

How could I say the words?

How could I tell them that my purity—everything I was supposed to protect—was gone?

“I… I got raped,” I whispered, and then the truth escaped me in a painful rush.

The silence that followed felt like the whole world had stopped breathing.

The smile on my mother’s face vanished instantly, replaced by shock and something close to disgust.

My father stiffened where he stood, and Liana’s eyes widened as if she had just seen something she wished she hadn’t.

“Raped?” Liana repeated, her voice unsteady and soft like a trembling leaf.

The word echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls as if it refused to settle.

My throat tightened until I could barely breathe.

I felt dirty, stained, and so painfully small that I wished the floor would swallow me whole.

“Elysia, who raped you?” my mother demanded, her voice rising with anger that filled the room like dark smoke.

Her eyes turned sharp and accusing, making my skin crawl as if I had done something evil.

“Elysia, answer us! Who did this to you?” my father shouted, acting like shouting would force the truth out faster.

His voice was so loud it made the air vibrate, making me want to shrink into the mattress.

“…Ethan,” I whispered, barely able to speak the name without shaking.

“Who is Ethan?” my mother snapped, her tone so sharp it felt like it cut my skin.

That was the problem.

How could I explain something they never wanted to hear?

“Ethan is my best friend,” I whispered, forcing the words out slowly.

“We’ve been close since high school.”

Mom’s eyes widened with fury so intense it made me look away.

“You’ve been keeping a male friend since high school and we never knew?” she yelled, her voice trembling with rage.

Dad stepped closer, and the anger rolling off him felt like heat that burned my skin.

“How do we know he’s not your boyfriend? Your dirty little boyfriend you’ve been hiding?” he spat.

“Daddy, no… it’s not—” I tried to explain, but my voice cracked under the pressure.

“It’s not what?” he roared, his voice booming through the room.

“You sneaked out of the convent to meet him, and then you had sex. And now you expect us to believe this story?”

His words sliced through me with the precision of a blade.

“What kind of daughter are you? Why can’t you be more like Liana?”

The comparison struck me with a pain deeper than all his shouting.

Liana—the perfect one, the pure one, the daughter they loved without conditions.

And me—the mistake they tried to hide.

The daughter they only valued when I obeyed their dreams for me.

I remembered how proud they looked when I said I wanted to become a nun.

I thought I finally did something right, finally made them see worth in me.

But now that tiny spark of hope vanished like it never existed.

They threw it away with their words, crushing it under their anger.

“You’re a disgrace, Elysia,” my mother said, her voice cold and sharp like shattered glass.

“You’ve always been a disgrace, and I regret having you.”

Her words hit me harder than anything Ethan did.

My heart felt like it cracked in two, and the pain spread through me like fire.

“Get ready to explain to the church why you were ‘raped’ on the day you were supposed to say your vows,” she sneered.

Her disgust settled on my skin like filth I couldn’t wash away.

“I hope God forgives your sins, you dirty little whore,” my father spat, each word dripping with hate.

“Dad…” I whispered weakly, reaching for him even though I knew he wouldn’t reach back.

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“Don’t ever call me your father again.”

They walked out one after the other, leaving the door wide open as if they were trying to let their disgust escape the room.

The silence they left behind felt heavier than their anger, thick enough to choke me.

I curled into myself and hugged my knees tightly like a child hiding from a monster.

I hated myself, I hated Ethan, and I hated the poison of pain crawling under my skin.

Standing before the Pope the next day felt like stepping into a storm with no shelter at all.

My story sounded weak and broken, like something made up by someone desperate to escape consequences.

I had sneaked out of the convent to visit my male best friend, and then I was raped.

That was all they heard.

That was all they believed.

“You must leave the convent, Elysia,” the Pope said, his voice stern and heavy with judgment.

“You committed fornication, and then lied by claiming it was rape.”

The disappointment in his eyes wrapped around me like chains I couldn’t break.

His judgment stung more than any punishment could.

“You are expelled,” he said slowly, like he wanted the words to sink into my soul.

“I pray God forgives your sins.”

My knees trembled as if they no longer belonged to me.

His words settled over my skin like a final sentence I couldn’t escape.

“You should leave,” he said softly, but the softness made it hurt even more.

And in that moment, everything inside me fell apart.

Nothing in my life went right after that night with Ethan.

He kept calling me over and over again even after I deleted his number. It felt like he was haunting me through the phone.

I sat across from my therapist every week while she told me gentle stories about healing and strength.

But her words never touched the ache inside me no matter how long I listened.

After the rape, depression swallowed me whole like a dark river with no end.

I almost ended my life because I felt like Ethan had taken everything I had left.

My therapist tried her best and always spoke kindness into me, then handed me books she believed would help.

I took my medications and visited the clinic for checkups every few days.

Somehow, I began to stay indoors all the time without anyone telling me to. I was broken and there was nothing my parents did to help me put myself back together.

Every mistake I made turned into a reason for them to call me a whore. I cried every night until my room became my only safe friend.

That evening during dinner, Dad cleared his throat and said, “We’re moving out.”

He had lost his deacon position in church, and since that day he carried hatred for me like a heavy shield.

Maybe they didn’t truly hate me, maybe they were just angry that one wrong decision ruined everything they had built.

Mom had lost her parish position too and blamed me for every closed door.

The church stopped paying them, and ever since then Mom snapped at every little thing. I became her favorite example of failure.

She compared me to Liana anytime she had the chance.

“Moving out?” Liana asked as she pushed her braids into her tight bun.

“Yes. Georgia has nothing for us anymore, especially after your sister Elysia ruined everything,” Dad replied.

He hated the idea of being a regular member instead of a church leader. Serving God had always been his pride. We were raised on rules and fear instead of understanding.

I remembered our high school years vividly.

Mom repeated her commandments every week.

• Don’t date boys—they will break your heart.

• Don’t date boys—God hates it.

• No sex before marriage or you will perish in hell.

I didn’t bother remembering the rest because they all felt useless. I was the quiet girl with glasses who was always bullied and ignored. I didn’t have friends, attention, or confidence.

I body-shamed myself daily and believed I wasn’t worth looking at. But Ethan told me I was beautiful during homecoming and those words lit something inside me.

I stood in front of the mirror that night wondering if maybe I wasn’t invisible after all, until he confessed he had a crush on the most popular girl in school, leaving me shattered.

I gave up the idea of college and chose a nun school instead because I was terrified of facing more bullying. Yet here I was now—a victim with scars I didn’t ask for. It all felt so pathetic.

“We’re moving to Buffalo,” Mom announced, giving me a sharp look through her heavy eyeliner. It always surprised me how she wore makeup after warning us never to use any.

“New York?” Liana gasped.

“Something wrong?” Mom pressed.

“No… I mean…” she stuttered, but I could see the excitement burning in her eyes because New York had always been her dream.

I wasn’t a fan of social media or celebrities like she was. Liana spent hours obsessing over artists and influencers, while I stayed distant from all of it.

“New York is fun,” she squealed. I stayed silent because my opinions never mattered. I was always the disappointment.

Mom raised a brow. “Because of Alexa?”

“No, Mom. Alexa is an ass.”

“Language!” Dad barked.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you around Alexa. She likes boys too much. I heard she has three boyfriends.”

I rolled my eyes quietly and stirred my ramen.

Alexa was our cousin, a whirlwind of reckless energy and bad choices, always testing boundaries and drawing attention wherever she went.

Dad had never liked her—not one bit.

He believed she brought chaos and shame into the family, and any association with her was a risk to our reputation.

“I heard Doreen caught her watching porn. Such a sinful child.” Mom shook her head dramatically. “I’m glad my Liana isn’t like those wild girls.”

Then she glanced at me.

“Unlike some people who sneak off to have sex with their boyfriend when they’re supposed to be sisters in church.”

Her words stabbed me so deeply that breathing hurt. A tear slipped out before I could stop it. I gathered my bowl and stood up.

“And where are you going?” Dad asked with clenched teeth.

“To my room. I need to take my medicine.”

Mom snorted. “It’s shocking you’re not pregnant. You’d be on the streets by now.”

“I’m just going to my room,” I whispered and walked away.

I shut the door and slid down to the floor, sobbing until my chest ached. I always told myself their words shouldn’t matter, but somehow they always found a way to break me. After hours of crying, I finally stood and looked in the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back.

I pulled my knees to my chest on the chair and studied my swollen eyes. I could not remember the last time I smiled.

“Elysia…” Liana’s voice woke me the next morning.

My eyelids burned as I rubbed them. She pushed the door open and stepped in with a smirk. I hated that she was older, yet still treated me like dirt.

“Good morning,” I said softly.

“Morning. Get ready. Our flight leaves in an hour.”

I watched her walk out as New York echoed in my head. She was already in college, and soon I would be joining once we reached Buffalo. I didn’t know what to expect anymore.

The plane ride was miserable. I sat by the window and glued my eyes to the book the therapist gave me. She said it would strengthen me, and maybe it was helping a little.

After hours of turbulence and discomfort, we finally landed. I hugged my bag and stepped out into the busy New York air. I had never been here before, and the noise felt overwhelming.

“Yes!” Liana squealed and took selfies nonstop.

“Take some pictures for me?” she asked, handing me her phone. I took the photos silently as she changed poses like a model.

We got in the waiting car and she sat beside me, practically vibrating with excitement as she stared at every building we passed. I just sat quietly, numb and tired.

When we reached the new house, it looked almost identical to the old one. I dragged my bags behind me without complaining. The neighborhood was peaceful and beautiful, but beauty never fixed anything for me.

I climbed the stairs with difficulty because of the luggage weight. When I finally reached my room, I exhaled. It needed serious cleaning.

I cleaned for hours until the room looked like a place someone could breathe in. As evening arrived, I heard teenagers laughing from somewhere outside. I stepped onto the balcony and inhaled the cool New York air.

Because of my bad fate, we were here. I hoped maybe this time would be different. I wanted to be better, far away from Ethan and Georgia.

A week later, Dad brought my old car from Georgia. I still didn’t know how he managed it. Even with all the changes, they didn’t stop reminding me of my mistakes.

One morning I tapped my fingers on the counter while finishing my coffee. Liana was online again because her phone kept buzzing and she wouldn’t stop smiling.

“Having fun in New York?” she asked without looking up.

“Yes,” I lied softly.

I had not stepped outside since we moved in. I stayed indoors, taking my meds and reading. There wasn’t much for me to do here anyway, and I never cared for social media like she did.

“It’s nice. I can’t wait to resume college,” she said.

I shrugged and tapped the counter again.

“Elysia, what are you doing?” Mom asked from the doorway.

“Nothing,” I replied quietly.

“Have you been taking your medications?” she asked, pretending to care.

“Yes.”

“Yes? Then why are your pills still in this bottle?” she yelled as she held it up. Liana even paused her scrolling to stare.

“I… I—”

“What? What’s wrong with you?” Mom snapped. “You slept with your boyfriend and now you’re pretending to be sick. Do you know how much money I wasted on you after your nonsense?”

“Mom—”

“Shut up! Dirty little whore.”

Tears fell instantly.

“Cry if you want. I hope you don’t embarrass us in New York too,” she spat before tossing the pills at me and walking away.

“Oops,” Liana muttered before going back to her phone.