IT ALL STARTED ON PROM NIGHT II

My home garage is my sanctuary, where I immerse myself in the meditative flow of transforming raw wood into pieces of art, losing track of time in the process. The familiar scent of sawdust and the comforting warmth of sunlight streaming through the windows envelop me as I immerse myself in my craft. But today, my tranquility is shattered by the intrusive sound of a chair scraping against the floor. I look up to see William standing in the doorway, his presence sending a chill down my spine. His eyes, cold and piercing, bore into mine, and I could feel the tension crackling in the air between us. "Hi, I didn’t hear you come in," I say, trying to mask the unease I feel at his unexpected arrival. His lips curl into a disdainful smile as he strides into the workshop, his gaze never leaving mine. "How does it feel," he begins, his voice dripping with contempt, "to manipulate those around you with your little toys?" Confusion washes over me. "What are you talking about? My woodworking isn't—" "I'm not talking about your woodworking," he interrupts, his words slicing through the air like a knife. "I'm talking about the games you play, Nadia. The lies you weave." Anger simmers beneath the surface, my fists clenching involuntarily at my sides. "I don't know what you're talking about," I reply, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "But if you're here to hurl baseless accusations at me, then I suggest you leave." But William remains defiant, his gaze unwavering. "Oh, I'll leave," he says, his tone dripping with malice. "But not before I expose you for the fraud you truly are." "I'm not a fraud! You don't know what you're talking about. Just leave me alone," I plead, desperation creeping into my voice as I try to fend off his accusations. But instead of backing down, he laughs—a cruel, mocking sound that sends a chill down my spine. Suddenly, his laughter transforms into pained gasps, his face contorting in agony as veins bulge on his neck and blood spurts from a wound. Terror grips me as I watch in horror, trembling uncontrollably as I struggle to comprehend what's happening. "Why are you laughing? Can't you see you're bleeding?" I cry out, my voice trembling with fear as I rush to his side, my hands shaking as I attempt to staunch the flow of blood. But his laughter only intensifies, a sinister echo reverberating through the air. "No, I didn't do anything," I protest, my words falling on deaf ears as he sneers at me, his gaze filled with malice. "You are a fraud, Nadia! A killer!" he accuses, his eyes dark and accusing, sending a shiver down my spine. With a strangled cry, I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to bear the sight any longer. The darkness swallows me whole as I scream, the sound echoing in the confines of my mind. Suddenly, a soft voice breaks through the chaos, calling my name with gentle reassurance. "Nadia, Nadia, wake up sweetheart. You're having a nightmare," my mom's voice soothes, pulling me back from the brink of terror. I slowly flutter my eyes open, my heart still pounding in my chest as I take in my familiar surroundings. Relief floods through me as I realize I'm safe in my bedroom, but the remnants of the nightmare linger, leaving me drenched in sweat and trembling with residual fear. I sit up in bed, my chest heaving as I try to shake off the remnants of the nightmare that had gripped me in its terrifying embrace. My mom sits beside me, her gentle touch a soothing balm against the lingering fear. "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe now," she murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair away from my face with a tender gesture. I nod weakly, still reeling from the vividness of the nightmare that had felt all too real. "I know, Mom. It's just...it felt so lifelike, like I was actually there," I confess, my voice trembling with residual fear. My mom wraps her arms around me in a comforting embrace, holding me close as if to shield me from the lingering shadows of the night. "Nightmares can be like that sometimes, especially after everything that's happened," she says softly, her words filled with understanding. I lean into her embrace, drawing comfort from her presence as the last traces of fear begin to ebb away. "I just wish I could shake this feeling of dread," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. My mom pulls back slightly, her gaze filled with warmth and reassurance. "You're stronger than you think, Nadia. And you're not alone. We'll get through this together," she says, her words a beacon of hope in the darkness. I manage a small smile, grateful for her unwavering support. "Thanks, Mom. I don't know what I'd do without you," I say. This is the closest I've ever felt to my mom, but it's a fragile connection based upon my lying. If only she knew the truth, she'd probably never forgive me. She smiles back, her eyes shining with love and pride. "You'll always have me, sweetheart. Now try to get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day," she says, tucking the covers around me with a mother's gentle touch. As she leaves the room, I sink into the pillows, feeling like I've just woken from a nightmare to face another nightmare called reality. William's nightmare serves as a stark reminder of that fateful day. It wasn't intentional, but the weight of the lies I spun to his family, the authorities, and anyone else who asked about what happened weighs heavily on me. I painted him as the bad guy, fabricating tales to shield myself, yet deep down, I knew he wasn't malicious. He was merely trying to help me from my misguided path. I'm completely lost, and the fear is consuming me.