Shadows of the past

They call me stubborn. Some even call me heartless. But they don’t know that my 'attitude' is just a shield I built to survive. I have spent years building these high walls around my heart, making sure no one could ever get close enough to see the cracks or the pain I hide so well. To the world, I am Zara—the girl who doesn't care. But deep down, I am just trying to keep my head above water. It was a quiet Friday evening. The rain was lightly tapping against my bedroom window, creating a rhythmic sound that usually helped me relax. I was sitting at my desk, completely focused on sketching a new portrait. Art is the only language I truly speak; it’s where I can be honest without saying a single word. My pencil moved smoothly over the rough paper, capturing the sharp, mysterious lines of a face I had seen in a vivid dream last night. Every stroke felt like I was releasing a piece of my soul onto the canvas. Suddenly, the silence was broken. My phone buzzed loudly on the wooden desk, the vibration making my pencil slip for a second. I let out a frustrated sigh, expecting a boring notification or an annoying ad. But as I reached for the device, a cold shiver ran down my spine. It was a message from an unknown number. I unlocked the screen with trembling fingers, and my breath hitched in my throat when I read the four simple words staring back at me: 'I know your secret.' My heart started racing, but I refused to let the fear win. I took a deep breath, gripped my pencil tighter, and felt my stubborn side taking over. I am Zara, and I don't back down from anyone. I quickly typed back a reply, my lips curling into a cold, defiant smirk: 'Then you better keep it well, because I don't like people who talk too much. And I like people who stalk me even less.' I hit send, my heart thumping against my ribs. I didn't know then that this one message was about to pull me back into the dark shadows of my past—the same shadows I had tried so hard to leave behind three years ago. The game had officially begun."