The place Jenna chose was the Nexus, a spacious, circular room at the very core of the Labyrinth. Unlike the other worlds, this space was neutral—a blank canvas of warm, pale wood and soft light.​Jenna stood in the center, her heart pounding with a mix of terror and resolute determination. She had learned how to invite her alters, and now, they began to appear, one by one.​Alex, in his sharp black clothes, materialized by the far wall, arms crossed, his stance radiating suspicion and a protective hardness. He scanned the perimeter as if expecting the furniture to attack.​Clara arrived next, standing straight backed and elegant, a fixed, unnervingly pleasant smile on her face. She looked at the bare walls with a slight wrinkle of distaste, clearly finding the lack of structure offensive.​Finally, Rage burst through a nearby doorway, breathing heavily, her presence immediately electrifying the air with hostility. She didn't look at Jenna; she looked at Clara and sneered. "Why is she here? The plastic doll."​"Enough," Jenna said, her voice surprisingly steady. It was the collective voice—amplified by the understanding she'd gained. "We are here for one purpose: to stop fighting the past by finally seeing it whole. We all carry a piece of the day we broke. Now, we share."​She turned to the smallest figure, who was hovering near the edge of the light. Lily, in her bright sundress, clutched a worn, stained teddy bear.​"Lily," Jenna said gently, dropping to one knee. "You were there first. What do you remember about the sad man?"​Lily trembled, hiding her face in the bear. "He was big. And he was loud. He said… he said the little girl was bad. And when I cried, he said, 'Stop that noise.' I remember the smell of his terrible breath."​Lily started to sob, a sound of profound helplessness.​"The smell," Jenna repeated, filing the detail. She looked at Alex. "Alex, what did you do?"​Alex stiffened. "I stood watch. I took over when the Host failed to protect herself. I remember the door closing. And then nothing. Only the certainty that the threat was now inside the house. I built the walls. I established the Rulebook to ensure we never let our guard down again." He pounded his fist against his chest. "I saved us by locking us down."​Jenna nodded. Alex remembered the aftermath, the fear that led to her first extreme dissociation.​She turned to Rage, whose eyes were narrowed in intense concentration, her fury focused inward. "Rage, you act out because you feel betrayed and silenced. What did you want to do then?"​Rage’s voice was a low growl. "I wanted to scream. I wanted to scratch his eyes out. I wanted to tell the grown-ups, but they told me to be quiet. They told me I was lying. My voice became fire, because no one would listen. I remember the metallic taste of blood in my mouth from biting my tongue."​The atmosphere thickened. Lily's smell, Alex's locked door, Rage's silence. Each piece was a sensory anchor to the event.​Finally, Jenna looked at Clara, the one who held the key to the deepest denial.​"Clara. You created the perfect world. Why?"​Clara’s smile didn't waver, but her perfect posture seemed to vibrate with strain. "To survive, one must be acceptable. No one hurts the acceptable girl. I removed the memory because it was unseemly. I remember sitting very straight afterward, focusing only on my homework. I recall the stain on the carpet where… where the glass broke."​The glass. Jenna felt a sudden, terrifying rush of complete recall. It wasn't just the sexual or emotional abuse. The man—a trusted family acquaintance—had grown frustrated when Jenna cried out, knocking over a lamp, shattering the glass. Jenna's biological mother had entered the room, seen the broken glass, and focused only on the mess and the need to keep the event a secret to maintain the family image.​The man abused her. She dissociated completely. Her mother betrayed her by focusing on the public image and silencing her.​A collective, soul-deep shudder ran through the room.​"We didn't break because of one monster," Jenna whispered, tears finally falling. "We broke because when we needed safety, we were given betrayal and denial."​Rage dropped to her knees, the fire in her eyes turning to tears of agonizing sorrow. Alex looked out the nearest window, and for the first time, the perpetual thunderstorm outside his room in the Labyrinth had slowed to a drizzle. Clara's perfect smile finally cracked, falling away to reveal a face etched with unshed grief.​They were not enemies. They were survival tactics, each holding a piece of the truth, all united by a singular, crushing trauma.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

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What Awaits Me

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What Awaits Me

Becky9684

Rebecca Beatty

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