•Dichotomy•
|"A division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different."|
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How many silhouettes can one trap in oneself? How many faces can a mask hide...
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"Fiore!"
A faint voice called out from afar as her eyes squinted.
She quickly shut her eyes when she felt them pierced by the harsh light source.
Groaning, she straightened her body to sit up, but still, her body felt like it was in a deep slumber.
She looked around with sleepy eyes to find out the voice. But her eyes widened in fright as her sight took in the familiar surroundings.
That room. The same room she was abandoned in. The familiar bed that witnessed all her miseries they endowed her for all those years.
The familiar four walls he locked her in.
The same small, shabby room with minimum furniture and dressed in off-white dirty wallpaper. The same broken bed which creaked on the slightest force.
She looked down at her body; an unbelieving gasp left her lips.
The same dirty white full-sleeved knee-length dress he forced her in because he wanted to "protect her from the dirty eyes of the world. "
How foolishly she once believed those words, later only to know that his eyes were the ones she needed to shield herself from.
Her arms were chained, hands and feet cuffed to the bedpost. In the same manner, as before, rendering her unable to move.
She could not process this. Her brain was puzzled.
Years ago, she had left all of this and him behind.
She was free.
Why has she changed again? What was she doing back here?
How did she get here?
"Fiore-"
This time the voice was more profound. Clearer.
"Little flower! You woke up, sweet pea!"
The voice had her trembling and shivering and short of breath. A panic attack. Her heart sped up incredulously and thumped violently in her chest.
She knew this voice. The honey-laden, gentle voice with a hint of adoration. The terms of endearment, the lovely names he called her since she was young. The voices, the words that used to once soothe the raging seas in her.
The voice she had fallen in love with. And the owner of the voice she had desperately fallen in love with.
But now, the voice left her scarred and shivering. She loathed how it was still so sweet but with an undertone of fright; reminding her forever of his haunting grasp on her life she could not get out of. She loathed how the owner still made her weak towards him.
