John barged into Matheo's chaotic house alongside Angelina and Sara. His eyes widened in shock at the scene that unfolded before him. Empty bottles littered the floor, and shattered plates added to the mess, creating a disarray that mirrored Matheo's inner turmoil.

"Whoa! What in the world happened here?!" John exclaimed, his voice filled with concern as he surveyed the scene.

Angelina, with a stern expression, swiftly moved towards Matheo, snatching the bottle from his trembling hands. "Enough with the drinking!" she demanded, her tone firm and unwavering.

Matheo, slumped on the floor with his back against the upturned sofa, appeared lost in his own world of chaos. His disheveled appearance mirrored the state of his surroundings, a reflection of his inner turmoil.

"Sara, please, I know you have the answers. Just tell me where she is. I promise I'll make things right," Matheo pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. In a moment of anguish, he grabbed a nearby pillow and began hitting his own head in frustration.

John, sensing the intensity of the situation, hurried to Matheo's side, gently taking the pillow from his hands. With a soothing voice, he tried to calm his friend down, reassuring him that they would find a way through the turmoil together.

Angelina gracefully carried the bags they had brought from the start and headed to the kitchen. She arranged the food on plates, then she made her way back to Matheo, her eyes reflecting a blend of compassion and resolve.

"I'm not hungry," Matheo declared, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance as he pushed the plates away.

"We know you are!" Sara asserted, as she reached for the spoon, a gesture of nurturing care as she attempted to feed him.

"I said I'm not hungry!" Matheo's voice rose, his frustration palpable, culminating in the plate slipping from his grasp, crashing to the ground in a symphony of shattered porcelain.

"What's gotten into you?" John's irritation surfaced, his patience wearing thin at Matheo's obstinate behavior. However, Matheo remained indifferent, brushing past John and ascending the stairs to his room, his turmoil palpable in every step.

"We gotta clean up this place before his father gets back; he ain't gonna be pleased seeing his son like this after his business trip," Angelina suggested, taking charge by starting to pick up the broken glass pieces from the floor.

"Watch out with that," John warned, swiftly taking the glass from Angelina's hand to prevent her from hurting herself.

Angelina glanced at John with gratitude shining in her eyes, a mix of emotions crossing her face as she rose to tackle the rest of the mess.

~

Jane slowly opened her eyes, her vision adjusting to the dimly lit room. As she tried to move, she realized her hands and feet were bound, sending a wave of panic through her. The room was musty and unkempt, with shadows dancing on the walls, creating an eerie atmosphere. Jane's heart raced as she frantically scanned her surroundings, searching for any clue that could help her escape this terrifying situation.

Jane's eyes widened in shock as a familiar man approached her, his presence sending a chill down her spine.

"Awake already?" he taunted, pulling up a chair and sitting beside her. Jane's gaze turned fierce as she struggled against her restraints, determination burning in her eyes.

With a menacing grip, the man held her chin, his words dripping with threat, "You know I could hurt you."

Just then, another figure emerged, a voice cutting through the tension, "Michael! We don't hurt our guests, do we?"

"You..." Jane's voice trailed off, her gaze locking with the man who was the cause of her nightmares in the past.

"Mee!" he declared triumphantly, his laughter filled with malice. "And I'm about to become the reason for your nightmares once more!"

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Word count: 638 words.

Author's note:

Whispers of yesterday are truly the worst nightmars. But we gotta be strong!

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All lovee ❤️