I focused on the clock, counting the seconds, hoping for the anguish to cease.I waited and waited.
And waited.
Until finally, the veil was unraveled.I saw it; I remembered.Then, I remembered everything.
Chapter 38
At long last, my birthday had arrived!I could hardly contain my excitement.I sprang out of bed and dashed to my parents’ room, where I began bouncing on their bed, shouting, “It's my birthday, it's my birthday!”My parents exchanged glances, their smiles reflecting my joy.I was over the moon, reveling in the fact that it was all about me and the gifts that awaited me.
My dad playfully grabbed my hand and pulled me down between them, tickling me while claiming it was his special day instead.But I knew better.
Suddenly, my mom stood up and opened the dresser, retrieving a lovely pink box.
“Happy 6th birthday, sweetheart!”she exclaimed, handing it to me.My heart raced with anticipation as I tore into the shiny pink wrapping paper.
Inside the box was a flat but wide book titled“Luna and Her Adventures.”I couldn't wait to dive into the pages and discover the wondrous tales of my life ahead—how I would travel the world on a magical pony, meet fascinating creatures, and eventually find a prince who shared my passions, leading to our happily ever after.
Then my dad chimed in, “I have a surprise for you too!”My eyes lit up with curiosity.
“What is it?”I asked, my excitement practically bouncing off the walls.
“It's downstairs!”he replied.I bolted down the stairs, my bare feet patting against the floor, until I spotted it—a pink bicycle with white wheels adorned with stunning silver, red, and pink tassels.I let out a joyful scream that echoed throughout the house.
My mom and dad rushed to me, enveloping me in hugs as I explored my new treasure.I had wanted this bike for so long, and I couldn't stop chattering about it.I promised to be a good student and listen to my parents, which made them proud.
“Come on, Dad!Let's ride it!”I urged, pushing the bicycle toward the door, eager for my first ride.I was still in my pink unicorn pajamas, my long platinum blonde hair tousled.
“Hang on, you need to change and put on shoes.I need to change too,” my dad chuckled.
“Please, Mommy!”I pleaded with my big blue eyes, knowing they would melt her heart.
“Alright, but you have to wear your shoes.I'll whip up some chocolate croissants for breakfast,” she said, smiling fondly.My dad, still in his robe, helped me get the bike outside, steadying it as I climbed aboard.It had training wheels, so I felt secure, having ridden a bike before.But this one—it made my birthday feel like the best day ever.
Little did I know, this joy would soon fade from my memory.Later on, Andrea visited, bringing with him a white rectangular box tied with a big pink bow.I unwrapped it in the living room while the adults sipped their coffee and watched.Inside was a doll that mirrored my own features—my eye color and hair color.It was uncanny yet stunning, and I instantly fell in love.
“Andrea, where did you find this?”my mom asked, clearly surprised.
“There's a doll artist I know.I used to photograph his creations.He makes dolls from scratch, and if you show him a picture, he can craft a similar one,” Andrea replied with a smile aimed at me.
I was left alone with Andrea while my father briefly went upstairs and my mother busied herself in the kitchen.Andrea watched me intently as I played with my new doll.
“Do you like it?”he inquired.I nodded enthusiastically.“Can you keep a secret?”he asked, and I nodded once more.“Well, I really like it too.You can't even begin to imagine,” he continued.Rising from the sofa, he knelt beside me, planting a kiss on my cheek before kissing the doll's cheek too.I gazed at him in silence.After a moment, he said his goodbyes and left the room.
That marked the beginning of what I forgot.I was just a child, naive and unaware.He was my friend, always showing me kindness.I recalled the afternoons I spent at the studio after school and the times he visited our home.His attention toward me grew slowly, almost imperceptibly, in an innocent way.
He would occasionally kiss me on the cheek.Most of it felt playful, and I didn't complain.If he ever noticed I seemed uncomfortable, he would tickle me or promise ice cream or anything I wanted.
For three years, this continued, and I remained oblivious to the inappropriateness of it all.He would often handle my doll, attempting to normalize his actions, convincing me that it was acceptable.How could I have known what was truly happening?Should I have known?But how could I?He never harmed me; he gave me presents and played with me.
Then, one rainy day in early March, my mom left me at the studio for a few hours.I was okay with that; it wasn't my first time being left with Andrea.I knew he would entertain me.He even let me draw while he worked on his computer, but eventually, I grew bored and asked him to play with me.
We started a game of hide-and-seek—he always found me, and one time I giggled and ran away, with him in pursuit.He caught me, grabbed me from behind, and began to tickle me.I laughed and pleaded with him to stop.
When he finally did, I felt something pressing against my lower back.For the first time, I felt a genuine discomfort.I realized that something was terribly wrong.
Suddenly his grip loosened, and he released me.I looked at him with my big blue eyes, filled with unshed tears, as the rain outside mirrored my emotions.I didn't utter a word.His expression was one of horror, as if he were appalled by his own actions, and he remained silent too.
I sat on the small couch in the studio, fixated on the clock, counting the minutes until my mom returned.I sat there, motionless.Andrea approached a few times, yet he said nothing—as if speaking could unleash the flood of emotions that were threatening to break free.
