In a damp, dingy basement, a sick little girl lay trembling on the cold floor. She writhed in pain, but no one came to her aid. Her eyelids squeezed shut, lost in painful memories—memories she couldn't quite remember but could still feel burning inside her.
Fleeting images haunted her: warmth, light, the safe embrace of someone who once loved her. Then, just as quickly, the serenity shattered.
A bucket of ice-cold water slammed against her face.
Lexi gasped, her eyes snapping open, the water trickling down her skin and dragging her violently back to reality. She blinked rapidly, heart pounding, mind struggling to recall what she had done this time to deserve punishment.
The basement spun around her. Broken furniture. Cracked concrete walls. A smell of mildew and something far worse.
Her aunt's voice rang inside her skull.
"You're lucky I took you in, you ungrateful little brat!"
Despite the summer air, Lexi shivered. She looked up and met the cold, unyielding eyes of Aunt Catherine, towering over her like a dark figure from a nightmare.
Lexi tried to push herself up. The room tilted violently, forcing her back down. Her head spun and her stomach churned. She closed her eyes, willing the dizziness to pass.
"Get up," Aunt Catherine barked. "Go make breakfast for me and your sister."
Lexi's heart sank. Another day of servitude. Another day of surviving.
She staggered into the kitchen, her wet hair clinging to her face, her body aching. Inside, her cousin Jessica stood by the counter, cradling two steaming mugs of coffee. Jessica's eyes flicked over Lexi—first with disdain, then quickly masked with a fake, pitying smile.
"I'm so sorry about Mom, Lex," Jessica said, her voice dripping with insincerity.
Lexi bit the inside of her cheek. Instinct screamed that Jessica's sympathy was as hollow as a drum, but she couldn't afford another punishment for talking back.
Jessica ordered breakfast like a queen to her servant, leaving Lexi to do all the work. She floated out of the kitchen with both coffees, not even offering to help.
Left alone, Lexi worked in silence. Her thoughts, however, were loud.Why did my parents leave me?Did they even want me?Was I ever loved at all?
That aching emptiness gnawed at her chest. It was a familiar hurt, as constant as the ache in her bruised ribs. She always felt like a puzzle missing too many pieces.
Just then, footsteps thudded down the hallway. Lexi stiffened. She wiped her face quickly, not wanting Aunt Catherine to see her tears.
"Aunt Catherine," Lexi said, forcing her voice to sound cheerful, "breakfast is almost ready."
"Ah, good," Aunt Catherine said, her voice coated in fake sweetness. "I'm absolutely famished. I see you made my favorite. How thoughtful, Lexi."
Lexi's skin crawled. That voice—that look—always meant trouble.
Aunt Catherine's smile sharpened as she drew closer. Her eyes gleamed with something dark and triumphant.
"You know," she said casually, "there's something I've been meaning to tell you about your parents."
Lexi's heart clenched. She braced herself.
"They weren't what you think they were," Catherine sneered. "Your mother? A reckless, selfish woman. Only cared about herself. And your father—weak, pathetic. Let her walk all over him."
Lexi shook her head, tears burning her eyes.
"That's not true!" she shouted, trembling. "My parents loved me! They weren't like that!"
Seeing Lexi upset only made Catherine smile wider, like a cat toying with a wounded bird.
"Oh, Lexi," she said in a syrupy voice. "You're so naive. You don't even know the truth about yourself."
Lexi's throat tightened.
"And the worst part?" Catherine added, her voice turning cold. "You're just like them. Worthless. Ungrateful. You'll never amount to anything."
Catherine turned on her heel, her cruel laughter echoing down the hallway.
Lexi stood frozen, the weight of her words crashing down on her like a physical blow. She could barely breathe.
She stumbled back to her task, finishing the breakfast she wouldn't even be allowed to eat. As she washed dishes at the sink, the world outside the kitchen window blurred behind her tears.
Then something hit the window frame—tap.
Lexi flinched and looked up.
A small stone, wrapped in paper, tumbled onto the kitchen floor.
Her heart raced. She snatched it up, peering outside.Nothing. No one in sight.
Hands trembling, she unwrapped the paper.
Scrawled across it were strange, jumbled dots and dashes—Morse code.
She stared, mind whirring.
-.. --- / -.-- --- ..- / .-- .- -. - / - --- / -...-. .. -. -.. / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .--. .- .-. . -. - ...
A secret message.A warning.Or maybe... an invitation.
Lexi didn't know it yet, but this message would be the first crack in the walls that imprisoned her.
And once they started to crumble, nothing—not Aunt Catherine, not Jessica, not even the hidden monsters lurking beyond the basement walls—could ever cage her again.