--
The police sirens grew louder, cutting through the thick silence as they approached the mansion. We had nowhere else to go in this jungle. Grateful but dazed, we climbed into one of their vehicles, while armed officers stormed the mansion, ordering everyone to surrender.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I looked out the window, noting the trees and the eerie beauty of the landscape. "Free at last," I whispered, almost to myself, though the weight of all that had happened still pressed heavily on my heart.

My mind drifted to Janet, her eyes once pleading and full of lies as she swore she cared for me. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, but I quickly brushed it away. My tears were too precious to waste on people like her. Just then, I noticed Julie looking at me with sorrow in her eyes. She leaned against me, sobbing. “I’m so sorry for everything, Sam,” she whispered, her voice choked with remorse. “I should never have left you behind. Can we make things right again?”

I felt the sincerity in her voice, but the damage was done. I couldn’t go back; I wouldn’t. The scars they’d all left on me had sealed my heart. "It’s too late, Julie," I said softly, looking out the window again. This was a fresh start for me, a chance to build myself back up. Distractions were over; I was done with the past.

We arrived at the police station, where we gave our statements. Our loved ones were waiting anxiously, and for them, it was a happy reunion. But for me, it was the beginning of a new chapter, one without the chains of old memories. I gave Julie a last parting hug, knowing everything would change from here on out.

---

**One Week Later**

I returned to school as a different Sam. Gone was the outgoing, carefree guy everyone knew. In his place was a “nerd,” complete with round glasses and a newfound obsession with academics. Girls who once flocked to me now found only cold indifference, and I ignored anyone who tried to reach out.

And Charles? Well, the truth of his accident finally came to light. Distracted by a phone call from Janet on that Valentine's night, he’d driven off in a rage, only to lose control of his car on a sharp turn. He was alive but barely, lingering in a coma, neither fully here nor gone. It was poetic justice, in a way; he was trapped in a reality he couldn’t escape.

The Hugghs were in prison, and Janet lay in the hospital, half-dead, a fitting punishment for her deceit. As for Julie, she’d gotten her heartbreak and rejection, the same bitter medicine she’d given me.

I focused on books, not really reading, just staring at pages, pretending I’d become a "smart" student. In truth, I’d lost myself somewhere in the mess, and I knew it. People pitied me as they walked by, shaking their heads at the shell I’d become.

They called me dumb, anti-social, a ghost of the boy I once was. Maybe they were right. Revenge, I’d thought, was supposed to bring satisfaction, but nature has its way of paying us back. My hell had started, and maybe that’s just where I belonged.

Funny, though, how I used to be drawn to beautiful faces and wild times. Now? Well, I don’t want any of it. I don’t need anyone. The only thing I need is this version of myself—a version I may not like, but it’s the only one I’ve got.

---

Weeks passed, and the halls of my school grew colder as I walked them. People whispered as I passed, old friends casting me pitiful looks, wondering what happened to the Sam they used to know. I kept my head down, my focus sharp, as I drowned myself in textbooks and empty thoughts.

Now and then, flashes of the past would intrude. Janet’s smirk, Charles’s betrayal, Julie’s apology—it was all there, lurking in the back of my mind. I thought revenge would give me closure, but the ghosts of what they’d done and what I’d become haunted me. Every corner I turned felt like a reminder of the mistakes I’d made, of people I’d once trusted.

Then came the nightmares.

Most nights, I found myself back in the Hugghs' mansion, running through dimly lit halls with shadows clawing at me, Janet’s cold laughter echoing in the distance. I’d wake up gasping, my heart pounding, only to find myself in the sterile, empty darkness of my bedroom. But the fear was still there, gnawing away like a parasite.

I kept to myself. Refused to go out. Friends tried to reach out at first, maybe thinking this was just a phase. But one by one, they gave up, leaving me in my self-imposed isolation. It was easier this way. No one could betray you if there was no one left to trust.

Then, one rainy evening, I found myself walking through the school park, the soft patter of rain a strange comfort. The water ran in thin streams down my face, mixing with the quiet tears I didn’t know I’d been holding back. Alone with only the sound of the rain, I let the weight of everything crash over me.

I thought about Charles, about how I hadn’t even heard his name since that morning. I’d overheard someone say he was in a coma, but that was all. Strange how the guy I’d once called a friend—who’d been part of some of my best memories—was now just a distant ghost of resentment. A piece of me wanted to check on him, to see if he was alright. But another, much darker part told me that he was just getting what he deserved.

The Hugghs, too, were somewhere far away, locked behind bars. Janet, the girl who had once been so close, was now just a broken version of herself in a hospital bed, fighting for life. And Julie… she was free, living her life again. But we hadn’t spoken since that last hug. The finality of it had made sure of that. Maybe, deep down, I wanted to forgive her, but something wouldn’t let me. Maybe I’d lost the part of myself that could forgive.

Then I realized—I wasn’t free either. I was still locked in a prison of my own making, haunted by memories and regrets. No amount of isolation, no amount of “smartness,” could make it go away. It just buried it deeper, like covering a wound with dirt instead of healing it.

As I walked down to my house, drenched and exhausted, a thought crossed my mind. Maybe this wasn’t the way. Maybe cutting everyone off and drowning myself in solitude was just another form of punishment. But could I trust anyone again? Could I rebuild the parts of me that had been shattered?

When I got in, I sat by my window, watching the rain pour down in steady sheets. For the first time, I let myself feel it all—the anger, the loss, the hurt. And strangely, at that moment, I felt lighter, as if the weight I’d been carrying had lifted, even just a little.

Maybe it was time to start over, to find a way out of this mess that wasn’t about revenge or bitterness. I didn’t have the answers yet, but maybe I didn’t need them all at once. For now, I’d try to forgive myself. After all, that’s where real healing starts.

And maybe, just maybe, tomorrow wouldn’t seem so dark.