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38. Zayne

Panic claws its way up my throat, choking me, as I struggle to process the figure standing in the distance. The memories I've tried so desperately to bury surge to the surface, and fear grips me like icy talons, paralyzing my body as I meet the haunting gaze of the man who tormented my childhood. His presence feels like an intrusion, reminding me that I can never truly escape the ghosts of my past.

My mind races, searching for a way out, but I'm trapped. Images flash before my eyes—bruised skin, shattered dreams, and the sound of his cruel laughter echoing in the dark corners of my mind. It's as if time has folded in on itself, dragging me back to the nightmare I fought so hard to leave behind. I can almost taste the metallic tang of fear on my tongue, feel the stinging pain of his blows against my skin.

I hate this. I hate him and I hate myself. It's been years, so many fucking years, but no matter how far I've come, I can't shake the feeling of vulnerability that washes over me wh
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