ZEN
The first thing I felt was the cold, hard floor beneath me. My wrists and ankles were bound tightly, the rough rope digging into my skin. My head throbbed with pain, a dull reminder of the force that had knocked me out. I struggled to open my eyes, the dim light of the room slowly coming into focus.
As my vision cleared, I saw them. Both of them. Two Noahs standing side by side, their identical faces twisted in starkly contrasting expressions. One Noah, the one who had been silent and seemingly docile, stood with a vacant, almost sorrowful look in his eyes. The other Noah, his eyes filled with a dark, malevolent energy, smirked down at me.
It all made sense now. The Noah who had been imprisoned inside the walls, the one who never spoke, was the same Noah who had shown me a semblance of gentleness. The other Noah, the one who had tried to kill me as a child, the one who had hidden me inside the walls, was the true embodiment of the evil that had plagued the Dela Cruz family.
"Welcome back, Zen," the violent Noah said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Did you miss me?"
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry, and the words came out as a hoarse whisper. "Why... why are you doing this?"
The violent Noah laughed, a sound that sent chills down my spine. "Why? Because it's fun, Zen. Because I enjoy watching you squirm. You see, I've always been the one in control. Even when you thought you were safe, I was always there, lurking in the shadows."
I glanced at the silent Noah, his eyes filled with a deep sadness. He seemed to be pleading with me, as if trying to convey a message without words. I realized then that he was as much a victim as I was, trapped in a cycle of violence and darkness that he couldn't escape.
"You're sick," I spat, mustering all the courage I had left. "You're a monster."
The violent Noah's smirk widened. "Maybe I am. But I'm also a survivor. And now, so are you. We're bound by this darkness, Zen. You can't escape it."
I struggled against the ropes, my mind racing for a way out. I couldn't let him win. I couldn't let him destroy everything I had fought so hard to protect. "What do you want from me?" I demanded, my voice stronger now.
The violent Noah's eyes glinted with a dangerous allure, his presence both magnetic and menacing. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "What do I want? I want you to understand, Zen. I want you to feel the same darkness that courses through my veins. I want you to see that we're not so different, you and I."
I recoiled, the proximity of his body making my skin crawl. "You're wrong," I said defiantly. "I'm nothing like you."
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that resonated through the room. "We'll see about that."
The silent Noah stepped forward, his movements hesitant, as if he were fighting an invisible force. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of hope. But then, just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by a resigned acceptance.
"Leave her," the silent Noah finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "She doesn't deserve this."
The violent Noah's expression darkened, his hand shooting out to grip the silent Noah by the throat. "Don't you dare tell me what she deserves," he snarled. "You're weak. Pathetic. Just like her."
The silent Noah's eyes closed, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He didn't fight back, didn't resist. It was as if he had already surrendered to his fate.
With a final, contemptuous shove, the violent Noah released his grip, sending the silent Noah stumbling back. "Remember this, Zen," he said, his voice cold and unyielding. "No matter where you go, no matter what you do, I'll always be a part of you. You can't escape me."
With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the empty room. The silent Noah lingered for a moment, his eyes meeting mine one last time. There was a silent apology in his gaze, a sorrowful acknowledgment of the truth that had been hidden for so long.
And then, he too was gone, leaving me alone in the cold, dimly lit room. The silence was deafening, the weight of the revelation pressing down on me like a physical force. Aunt Sarisa had hidden the truth, kept the existence of Noah's twin a secret. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow, a betrayal that cut deeper than any wound.
I was alone now, truly alone. The ropes around my wrists and ankles were a stark reminder of my captivity, but they were nothing compared to the chains of darkness that now bound my soul. The violent Noah's words echoed in my mind, a haunting reminder that the shadows were never far behind.
As the room grew colder and the light dimmer, I knew that my fight was far from over. But for now, all I could do was sit in the silence, the weight of my newfound knowledge pressing down on me like a suffocating shroud.
The silence enveloped me, pressing down like an unbearable weight. My mind drifted, seeking solace in memories long buried, memories I had tried to forget. But they surfaced now, unbidden and relentless, pulling me back to a time I had spent years running from.
I was eight years old, a child innocent in appearance but already harboring a darkness that would soon consume my life. My family—my mother, father, and younger brother—were my world. We lived in a small, cozy house, filled with laughter and warmth. But beneath the surface, something sinister lurked, waiting for the right moment to strike.
It was a stormy night, the wind howling like a beast outside our home. My parents were arguing again, their voices rising above the din of the storm. I remember hiding in my room, clutching my favorite stuffed animal, trying to block out the sound. But the anger in their voices seeped through the walls, infecting me with a rage I couldn't understand.
I don't remember picking up the knife. I don't remember walking into the living room, where my parents stood, locked in their bitter argument. All I remember is the feeling of the cold metal in my hand, the way it seemed to pulse with a life of its own.
My father saw me first, his eyes widening in shock. "Zen, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice trembling.
But I didn't answer. I couldn't. The darkness had taken over, a force beyond my control. I moved forward, the knife glinting in the dim light of the room. My mother screamed, a sound that still haunts my nightmares.
I don't remember the details. Only flashes of red, the feeling of the knife slicing through flesh, the sound of my brother crying. When it was over, I stood in the middle of the room, covered in blood, the bodies of my family lying motionless around me.
The authorities said it was a psychotic break, a moment of temporary insanity. They took me away, placed me in a facility for troubled children. But I knew the truth. I knew that the darkness inside me was real, that it had been waiting for the right moment to strike.
*****
The flashback ended, leaving me gasping for breath, my heart pounding in my chest. The violent Noah's words echoed in my mind: "We're not so different, you and I."
He was right. We were both creatures of darkness, bound by a past filled with blood and pain. But unlike him, I had spent my life trying to escape it, trying to bury the memories and the guilt. Now, faced with the truth, I realized that I could never truly outrun my past.
I looked around the empty room, the ropes still binding my wrists and ankles. I was alone, but not truly. The darkness was always with me, a silent companion that I could never escape.
For the first time in years, I allowed myself to cry. The tears flowed freely, a release of the pain and guilt I had carried for so long. I cried for my family, for the life that had been stolen from me, and for the darkness that I could never escape.
As the tears subsided, I felt a strange sense of calm. The fight was far from over, but I was ready to face it. I would confront the darkness, not as a victim, but as a survivor. I would find a way to break free, to reclaim the light that had been stolen from me.
And as I sat in the silence, I made a vow. I would not let the darkness define me. I would fight, no matter the cost. Because in the end, it was the only way to truly be free.
******