SCARS OF THE MOON

You can't escape destiny

The morning brought a distorted reality, an unbearable confusion of emotions. Waking up in that room, wrapped in sheets that no longer belonged to me, made my heart beat in a painful, restless rhythm. Every part of me, though seemingly intact, felt wrong, as if something inside me had been erased or altered in an irreversible way.

Jason was there, sitting casually, as if nothing had happened, as if my body had been merely a tool in his sick plan. He was flipping through the newspaper with the serenity of someone who believed they had done what was necessary. The contrast between the brutality of the previous night and his calm demeanor now sickened me.

The sound of his voice echoed like a slap.

"You're free."

Free? How dare he utter that word? The word "freedom" had never felt so empty, so ironic. I moved, trying to gather any fragment of strength still left in me. But every movement revealed the abyss he had created inside me.

“What did you do to me?” my voice came out trembling, but filled with a fury I barely knew how to control.

He stood up, still wearing that cold, inhuman smile, as if all of this were just a game he had already won.

"What was necessary for our family."

My head spun. Family? I wanted to scream, to break everything around me, but the void inside me was larger than any reaction. I was exposed, physically and emotionally, before a monster who believed he had done something grand.

"Is this some kind of joke?" my voice came out stronger than I expected. And in that moment, I realized that no matter what he had done, I was still here. I was still me, and he couldn't take that from me.

Jason stepped closer, and the shadow of the man he was covered the small light of hope that had begun to rise within me.

“Melina,” he said, his voice carrying a false softness, “you never had a choice.”

I stood, clutching the sheet around my body, now looking at that stranger.

“What did you do to me?”

“Well, you asked me not to hurt you, and that’s what I managed to do. I think you weren’t feeling too well last night. But forget it, I promise I’ll never lay a hand on anyone like you again. As I said, it was necessary.”

Before I could do anything, my hand found its way to his face, my palm stinging and the marks of my fingers on his skin. My heart raced.

His hand wrapped around my neck, but before doing anything more, he stopped and simply pushed me away from him, making me fall back, sitting.

“I won’t touch you, Melina.”

A tear slipped from my eyes, and I saw him take a step back, as if analyzing me, feeling pity for me.

“You’re a monster.”

“If your mother had raised you properly, you wouldn’t be calling me a monster. Stop with this anger. I did what was necessary. Whether that matters to you or not, I don’t care. In nine months, you can leave.”

Only then, in that exact moment, did I fully realize I was no longer a virgin; he had been with me, and that was just the beginning of everything.

“I can’t be pregnant with your child!”

I spoke so quietly that he came closer, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look at him.

“You’re carrying my child.”

The shock of the words was as brutal as the reality they represented. I found myself paralyzed, my heart pounding frantically in my chest, while pain and fear mixed into an uncontrollable storm. The cruel truth stood before me: I bore the indelible mark of an act of violence and despair, and with it, the possibility of a life forming within me.

Jason’s gaze was one of calculated coldness, as if he were evaluating the impact of his words and the fear reflected on my face. His touch on my chin, the force with which he made me confront the reality, only intensified the sense of despair and helplessness.

“You’re carrying my child,” he repeated, his voice laden with cruel assurance.

Each of his words seemed to tear further into the fabric of my life, revealing a truth that I could barely process. The sense of betrayal and indignation burned within me, and the idea that all of this could have been avoided if not for him filled me with visceral hatred.

“This is a nightmare,” my voice came out in a desperate whisper, as if somehow I could wake from this torturous reality.

Jason stepped back, still maintaining that expression of control and coldness.

“Reality is what you make of it, Melina. This is your new world. Now, take care of yourself. In a few months, you can get rid of all this. Just keep calm and do what is necessary.”

Those words sounded like a sentence, and the idea of having to continue in a situation that seemed hopeless left me almost without hope. Not knowing what to do next, but one thing was clear: I needed to find a way to regain control of my life and, if possible, prevent the tragedy from continuing.

The sight of Jason, with his aura of control and power, began to recede, and I realized that the fight was just beginning. The reality was harsh and cruel, but I had to find the strength within me to face what would come next.

Something primal within me awoke, an almost insane courage, and I pulled him with a strength I didn't even know I had. He turned abruptly, his eyes filled with surprise, a confused expression on his face, as if he expected me to do more, or perhaps that the next move would be another slap to his arrogant face.

My head spun, and for a moment, I felt as if the ground was slipping from beneath my feet. I felt violated, betrayed in the most intimate essence of who I am.

“I didn’t know any man before you.” The words came out trembling, but firm, imbued with an old pain I had tried to hide for so long. “You used me… and it won’t go unpunished. Remember what I’m saying. You’ll have to bind me if you want that thing again, because I will never, ever, allow this to continue.”

The silence between us was dense, suffocating. I could hear the furious pounding of my heart as I stared at him, waiting for his reaction, both fearing and desiring what would come next. Then, he laughed. A low laugh, filled with scorn, that made my stomach churn. He pulled me hard, his large hands gripping my face, forcing me to look at him.

The smile that spread across his lips was almost diabolical, a cruel distortion of satisfaction.

“Do you think you’re going to stop me?”

The silence seemed to grow between us, suffocating and dense. He looked at me with those cold, soulless eyes while his cruel laughter filled the room. My heart pounded not with fear, but with outrage. Every fiber of my being screamed for justice, for freedom from a nightmare he dared to perpetuate.

“Get your hands off me!”

His rough hands tightened on my face with a force that only fueled my determination. The smile on his lips had no trace of humanity; it was the mask of a demon savoring another’s suffering.

“Do you think you’re going to escape this?” he whispered, his voice laced with venom. “Do you think you can challenge me?”

For a moment, I was tempted to give in to the primitive urge to fight, to unleash my fury against him with every fiber of my being, but I soon realized that true strength did not lie in my fists. My strength was in the fire burning inside me, a fire fueled by the silent promise I made to myself at that very moment. I was no longer a victim; I would become his ruin. He didn’t know it yet, but he was facing a storm he could never contain.

"I’m not just going to escape," I murmured, my voice low and filled with a cold determination, almost a whisper through clenched teeth. "I’m going to destroy you."

He leaned in slowly, and before I could react, his teeth bit into my ear, a predatory gesture that made me shudder in disgust. "You have nine months," he whispered with cruel calmness, as if narrating a nightmare. "But if you harm my baby... I will end you." His voice was thick with venom, dripping from every word. "I am stronger than you. You have no idea what I’m holding back, how much anger I’m suppressing to keep from tearing your throat out right now, Melina. You’re a curse... and I am the cursed."

With those words, he abruptly released me. I fell to the floor, sitting, more dazed by the cold confidence and perverse determination radiating from him. My mind spun with the weight of what he had said, but before I could formulate any response, I murmured, almost unconsciously, "What kind of man are you?"

He gave a faint laugh, a disturbing shadow of a smile crossing his face. "Maybe you should find out where your family came from, Melina. Then you would know who I really am."

Without another word, he turned his back on me and left the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t lock it. He didn’t bother to confine me there. But the truth was, it was already too late. He had started this torture the night before.

With a shattered heart, I placed my trembling hand over my abdomen and offered a silent prayer. A desperate plea that I wasn’t pregnant. But now, all I could do was wait... and keep searching for a way to escape that man and the nightmare he forced me to live.