Once, my paranoid love

Out of nowhere, Derek’s voice rang out, loud and urgent. “Elena,” he shouted, his tone filled with a sense of urgency and desperation.

I was taken aback and responded quickly, my voice trembling with fear.

“Derek,” I said, seeking to understand the reason behind his sudden outburst.

“Baby, please listen to me,” Derek implored, his voice softening as he tried to calm my rising panic.

“He can’t kill me, and he’ll never hurt you or our baby.”

His words were a lifeline in the storm of my fears, offering reassurance that I desperately needed.

Hearing Derek’s words, I couldn’t help but fall into tears. The weight of my anxieties and the constant threat that had loomed over us had taken a toll on my emotional well-being. Derek’s presence and words were a balm to my frazzled nerves.

“Please do not cry. You don’t have to be terrified of him,” Derek added, his voice gentle and soothing as he wiped away my tears. He was my anchor in the midst of the tempest.

In my desperation to understand the situation, I asked Derek the question that had been haunting me.

“Derek, he got away, right?” My voice was filled with dread as I sought an answer.

Derek’s silence was deafening. It told me everything I needed to know, and the truth was almost unbearable to grasp.

Yes, Paul had managed to escape from the asylum, defying all odds. I had known all along that Derek couldn’t keep him locked up forever, but the reality of his freedom was a chilling revelation.

I had grown up with Paul, and I knew just how cunning and dangerous he could be. The fact that he had killed his own mother only added to the horrors that loomed in our future. The veil of fear that had enveloped us was unrelenting, and the battle we were about to face seemed almost insurmountable.

[Flashback]

The school day had come to an end, and the students were bustling about, ready to head home. In the midst of the confrontation had taken place, one that would leave a lasting impression on two young souls.

“Please don’t take it. It was a gift from my mom to me,” Elena remarked, her voice filled with both emotion and determination.

Her eyes glistened with tears, and she clung to a bracelet that held deep sentimental value to her.

Avil, a fellow classmate of Paul, stood opposite Elena.

Her voice carried an air of possession and entitlement as she countered her claim, “Your mother? It’s not yours; it’s mine. It was on my desk.”

Elena refused to back down.

“No, I’m not lying. This is my favorite bracelet. This is where I left it,” she stated, her voice steady.

But Avil was undeterred and chose to wield her authority over her.

“Elena, keep your mouth shut. Okay, it’s mine. I’m your senior. If you do not return this bracelet to me, I will inform the teacher that Paul did your homework.”

Her threat was a forceful attempt to assert dominance, using the power dynamics of school to her advantage.

Elena, intimidated by Avil’s words and the possible consequences, felt her spirit waver. She lowered herself into a chair and, overwhelmed by her emotions, burst into tears. The bracelet remained clutched in her hand, a symbol of her unwavering determination to hold onto the precious gift from her mother.

As the school day came to an end, Paul waited outside for her. But time passed, and Elena did not appear.

Concerned for her, Paul made his way to her classroom, his heart racing as he spotted her sitting alone, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Elena,” Paul called out, gasping for breath as he arrived by her side, a deep sense of worry etched across his face.

“Paul!”

She cried out, her voice laced with distress and vulnerability.

Gently, he caressed her cheek, his concern evident in his eyes as he tensely questioned, “Why are you so upset? Did you get hurt? Please do not cry.”

His touch trailed to her hand, and his expression shifted to one of alarm.

“What’s wrong with your hand? Did you get into a fight? Who messed with you here?” Paul’s protective instincts flared, his anger simmering beneath the surface.

Elena, her emotions pouring out, shared the whole story with Paul. The weight of her ordeal hung in the air, but Paul, determined to ease her pain, spoke with a reassuring promise, “Please don’t cry, Elena. I promise I’ll get the bracelet.”

Tenderly, he wiped away her tears, his gesture a comforting balm.

“Really? But she is a friend of yours,” Elena questioned, a hint of uncertainty clouding her face.

“What difference does it make? I promise I’ll take that bracelet,” Paul affirmed, his commitment unwavering. In that moment, he pulled Elena into a warm embrace, a silent pledge to be her pillar of support.

The next morning dawned, and the air was charged with anticipation as Elena observed Paul rushing towards her. His hurried footsteps echoed in the corridor, punctuated by labored breaths.

“Elena!” Paul called out, gasping for breath, his determination evident in his eyes.

In his hands, he clutched the precious bracelet that had caused so much turmoil the day before. “Paul!”

Elena said with a smile, her eyes lighting up as she reached out to accept the gift he had promised to retrieve.

“Thank you!”

She expressed her gratitude, wrapping him in an embrace that conveyed the depth of her appreciation.

However, Elena’s joy was tempered by concern as she noticed something amiss.

“But your hand is bleeding,” she pointed out, her smile fading into a furrowed brow.

“No silly. I’m OK,” Paul reassured her, laughter dancing in his eyes. He tried to downplay the injury, not wanting to worry her further.

“No!”

“Come with me,” she declared, determination coloring her voice as she took charge of the situation. Without waiting for a response, Elena gently took Paul by the hand, leading him away from the bustling corridor.

Just a few moments ago, the air hung heavy with tension as Avil found herself at the mercy of Paul’s wrath.

“Paul, I gave you this bracelet, but now please let me go,” Avil pleaded, her voice trembling with fear and regret.

“Shut up!” Paul’s shout pierced the air, his anger uncontrollable.

“You hurt Elena.”

In a surge of fury, Paul yanked a brick from the ground, an improvised tool of retribution. With a swift and forceful motion, he slammed it into Avil’s hand, a physical manifestation of the pain he believed she deserved.

“Will you ever touch her, say it? Will you do it?” Paul demanded, his voice filled with a fierce intensity as he pressed for a response.

“Ah!”

Avil’s cry of pain reverberated in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions.

As suddenly as it began, the flashback ended, leaving behind an unsettling silence.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

**

“He was suspended as a result of this. Anne enrolled him in a boarding school. When he returned, he was a completely different guy. He kept his word, and he will keep it no matter what it takes,” I recounted to Derek, the weight of the past resonating in my words.

**

The exterior of Derek’s residence stood as an imposing testament to wealth and opulence, its grandeur extending to the meticulously manicured grounds that surrounded it. Paul, perched on a park bench nearby, observed the mansion with a mixture of longing and concealed frustration.

Disguised amidst the flow of people passing by, Paul blended seamlessly into the crowd. His gaze lingered on the mansion, a silent witness to the passage of weeks since he last caught sight of Elena.

“It’s been 2 or 3 weeks since I last saw you. When are you coming, Elena?”

Paul’s thoughts echoed, a whisper carried away by the wind.

“I’ll be waiting for you, but look at what that jerk did to you. I wouldn’t lock you up like this if you were with me.”

Suddenly, the ambient air shifted as a car glided to a graceful halt in front of the mansion. A subtle tension hummed in the atmosphere, alerting Paul to the moment. Realization struck, and he swiftly sought refuge behind a nearby tree, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene.

Derek stepped out of the car, extending his hand to grasp another’s. Paul, hidden in the shadows, observed with a mix of anticipation. As the figures became clearer, he recognized the delicate white hand in Derek’s grip Elena’s hand, his Elena.

A bittersweet smile played on Paul’s lips as he beheld her.

“How are you, my love?”

He whispered to himself, a yearning echoed in those words.

Yet, the scene unfolded in ways he hadn’t expected. Derek reached for Elena’s waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek. The couple, wrapped in each other’s arms, disappeared into the opulent mansion.

Paul’s reaction was visceral. He bit his lower lip, teeth clenched in frustration. The reality before him cut through his illusions, and a surge of pain gripped him.

“Why did you do it, Elena? Why did you give him permission to touch you? You should not have done such a thing to me.”