Everything was quiet. Too quiet.
I could hear the soft beeping of machines around me, slow and steady like a heartbeat that wasn't mine. The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and something sadder—something I couldn't name. My body felt heavy, like someone had poured cement into my bones. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I was just... there. Floating beneath the surface of my skin.
I wanted to wake up. God, I wanted to wake up.
I wanted to tell Peter that I could hear him—his voice like soft thunder, trembling every time he said my name. I wanted to hug Chloe, who I could feel pacing near my feet, probably biting her lip raw. I wanted to tell Liam that I was still fighting, even if it didn't look like it. I wanted to reach my mom, who I knew was somewhere nearby, probably sitting with her head in her hands, pretending to be strong when she was breaking inside.
But I couldn't do any of that.
Because she was still here.
Inside me.
And then it began.
My body jerked. Violently. Pain exploded through my spine like fire laced with broken glass. My back arched off the bed as if something invisible had hooked its claws beneath me and pulled. My arms twisted at sick angles, bones cracked, and I heard Chloe scream. Somewhere in the chaos, Peter shouted my name, trying to hold me down, trying to ground me—but I wasn't in control anymore.
I felt like I was drowning inside my own body.
Blood began trickling from my eyes, warm and sticky. It felt like my soul was bleeding too.
Then the voice came out of me.
But it wasn't mine.
"She will say yes," it growled through my lips. "Whether she wants to or not."
I wanted to scream. To tell them it wasn't me. That I was still here. But all I could do was suffer in silence as the thing inside me twisted my body and my voice into something monstrous.
Peter's hands were on my face. "Emma! Please! You're stronger than her. You can fight this, I know you can!"
I wanted to believe him. But I felt like I was fading.
And then, my body slammed back onto the mattress like a ragdoll. For a heartbeat, everything was still.
Silent.
And then my eyes opened.
But it wasn't me.
I felt her take over—like a shadow wearing my skin.
She sat up, slowly, like a puppet being yanked upright. My limbs moved, but not under my control. I felt the way she curled my lips into a cruel smile. The way she looked at Peter like he was nothing but dust beneath her feet. I wanted to cry, but my face didn't listen to me anymore.
Peter stepped closer, his voice hopeful. "Emma?"
She—I—looked straight at him and said, voice cold and cruel, "Don't. Touch. Me."
His expression shattered. Like his heart broke right there.
Chloe's breath hitched. I could feel her confusion, her fear.
"She's not Emma," Liam said, and I could feel his eyes on me—not just watching, but seeing. He knew.
"She's Amelia," he said. His voice wasn't surprised. It was just… resigned.
And Amelia laughed with my mouth. "Oh Liam… still playing hero. Still trying to fix what was never yours to fix."
"You were never meant to come back," Liam said quietly. "You've disturbed the balance. The dead are supposed to stay dead."
"Nature owes me," she hissed. "And this girl? She's mine. My vessel."
"She's not yours!" Peter shouted. "Where is she? Where's Emma?!"
I wanted to answer. I was screaming inside.
"She's here," Amelia said smoothly, "watching. Suffering."
I was. Oh God, I was.
I was trapped, curled up inside myself, while she used me like a puppet. I could feel everything—the way she made my heart go cold, how she toyed with them, how she relished their pain.
Liam stepped forward, and for the first time, I felt hope spark.
"Emma," he said gently, "if you can hear me—you are stronger than her. You already said no once. You can say it again."
"No," Amelia hissed. "Shut up. SHUT UP!"
Suddenly, I felt it.
A crack inside me—not physical, but something deeper.
She was weakening.
Pain burst through my skull like white-hot light. I felt my fingers twitch, my fingers, not hers. My lips trembled, my jaw clenched against her control.
And then I found my voice.
It was quiet. Broken.
But it was mine.
"I… I don't want to die…"
And just like that, everything inside me crumbled.
I collapsed back onto the bed, my body limp, blood dripping from my nose, my mouth, my eyes. Everything hurt—everything. I couldn't lift a finger. Could barely breathe.
Tears spilled down my cheeks as I gasped. "It hurts… please… help me…"
I felt hands on my face—gentle and warm. Chloe. Her sobs were soft but messy as she knelt beside the bed.
"You're back," she whispered through her tears. "You're really back."
Peter took my hand again, and this time I could squeeze it—just barely.
"I'm here," he said, his voice cracking. "We're here. You're safe now."
But I didn't feel safe.
I felt shattered.
"She tried to take me…" I sobbed, my voice raw. "I felt her… she was inside me… she made me say things, do things…"
"It's over now," Peter whispered. "It's over."
Liam stood at the foot of the bed, silent, his expression dark.
"It's not over," he said. "She's not done. She'll come back. And next time… she'll be stronger."
I could barely lift my head. My body wasn't mine yet, not fully. Everything throbbed—my muscles, my skin, my soul.
But I found the strength to whisper one more thing, the only thing that mattered in that moment.
"Please… don't let her take me again…"
And then, everything went dark again.
But this time, I was still me.
I was still here.
Barely.
But I was here.
All the nurses and doctors came rushing as I was dying, my bones were broken, my body has bled like there's nothing that can be done, the doctors and nurses were so surprised to see what had happened to me, how the bones broke. Everyone was sent outside, mom was taken into another room.
Now the hospital staff was to be convinced something with a story that how it happened.
But Liam with his psychic powers made them forget and told them it was just an accident.
I still felt the pain, I couldn't move, just screaming. And it was scientifically impossible.
I was broken I cried for my best Birthday celebration like this, I cried for the people I love in pain, I cried for the physical pain and the mental pain.
I just cried as my whole body was plastered.
Blood banks.
And I collapsed out of pain again.
That's how my brithday was celebrated.
Thanks to AMELIA.....