Chapter 16 CLOSE YOUR EYES LILIAN
LILIAN POV
I couldn’t sleep,no matter how many times I changed positions, how many breaths I took, the air still felt too heavy like something pressing down on my chest.
The rain had stopped, but the silence it left behind was worse.
I stared at the ceiling, watching shadows shift across the cracked plaster.
My heart hadn’t slowed since Seraphine’s visit, Her words still looped in my head like a curse.
“Your scent’s not the only one I followed.”
Yeah.... Because that’s exactly not what you want to hear before bed.
I rolled over, pulled the blanket up, and tried to laugh it off.
But when I did closemy eyes.... It wasn’t her face I saw.
It was my father’s, It started the same way it always did warm, bright, safe.
We were at home, mom was in the kitchen, singing softly under her breath, flipping pancakes like it was an Olympic sport.
Dad leaned against the counter, pretending to help, mostly just stealing bites.
And me?
I was maybe eight, my hair was in messy braids, pajamas covered in cartoon ghosts, barefoot and impatient.
“Come on, come on!” I remember whining. “You said we’d go early!”
Dad laughed, that deep, easy laugh that filled every corner of a room. “You hear that, honey? Our little dictator’s at it again.”
Mom rolled her eyes, smiling. “If you’d actually pack the basket like you promised, we’d be ready.”
He winked at me. “Alright, general, give me five minutes.”
It was supposed to be a picnic, The flashback shifted time folding like pages in an old book.
We were in the car now, sunlight streaking through the windshield, the radio humming something soft and forgettable.
Mom was in the passenger seat, looking out the window, her fingers brushing against Dad’s.
They were laughing about something probably the pancakes he’d burned earlier when it was mom's turn to pack.
I remember the way Mom’s hand rested lightly on the gearshift, the gold wedding band glinting.
Then Dad’s laugh paused Just slightly.
His fingers flexed on the steering wheel... A muscle jumped in his jaw.
“Hey honey,” Mom said quietly. “You okay?”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, just bit lightheaded. I’m fine.”
Except he wasn’t even back then, I could tell.
Something in his voice had changed like the air around us knew before we did.
The road stretched out ahead, sunlight flashing against the cars, the traffic light in the distance flickering from green to yellow.
A few seconds of silence, Then his knuckles went white on the wheel.
“Okay…” he said slowly. “I don’t think I’m okay, baby.”
Mom turned instantly, her voice tightening. “What’s wrong?”
He tried to smile again, but his lips had gone pale. “The brakes. They’re .....uh—stuck.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “What?”
He pressed harder. The car didn’t slow, The pedal sank uselessly beneath his foot.
I remember his breathing quickening. “Okay, okay, we’re fine.. we’ll just pull over—”
“That’s exactly it!” he snapped suddenly, panic cracking through his calm. “It’s stuck!”
“Jesus—” Mom whispered, fumbling for her seatbelt, her hand trembling.
The world tilted slightly in my memory, colors stretching, sounds blending like time itself was unraveling.
We hit the red light and then there was only motion.
A truck appeared out of nowhere unstoppable, horn blaring and for one endless second, everything went silent.
Dad’s voice broke through it: “Hold on!”
Metal screamed.... and our glass exploded.
The world flipped over and over in a blur of red, white, and noise until there was only the smell hot rubber, blood, gasoline.
And then, silence again with tiny ringing on my ear, When I opened my eyes, everything was upside down.
The seatbelt dug into my shoulder. My face was wet I didn’t know if it was tears or blood.
The radio was still playing, faintly, a cheerful song warped and broken.
“Mom?” I whispered. “Dad?”
A groan came from the front seat.
Dad’s arm was twisted at a strange angle. His head rested against the steering wheel, blood trailing down his temple.
“Daddy?” My voice cracked. “you're bleeding !.”
His eyes opened just a little bit, He looked at me through the shards of glass, lips trembling.
“Sweetheart,” he rasped. “Stay still. Okay? Just stay still.”
Before his eyes fluttered shut again.
“Mom!” I cried, twisting in my seat.
She was turned toward me, hair covering half her face, chest rising shallowly and one hand reached weakly in my direction.
“Sweetie…” Her voice was soft, fragile, breaking. “Listen to me.”
I couldn’t stop crying. “Mommy, Daddy won’t wake up!”
“I know,” she whispered. “Just… close your eyes.”
“What mommy?”
Her fingers brushed mine, cold and shaking “Close your eyes, baby... The pain… it’ll go faster that way.”
Then her hand fell and her eyes closed just like my dads.
I jerked upright in bed, gasping for air.
My heart was pounding so hard it hurt, sweat clung to my skin, the sheets tangled around me like restraints.
For a second, I didn’t know where I was, The shadows on the walls looked too much like twisted metal.
The silence sounded too much like aftermath.
“Jesus Christ,” I whispered, pressing my hands to my face. “Not again.”
The nightmare had been getting worse lately, it's more vivid.
Every time, I thought I’d seen the worst of it and every time, my brain proved me wrong.
I stumbled out of bed, flicked on the lamp, and just stood there breathing slow, uneven.
The clock read 3:12 a.m, The air felt heavy, like the ghosts of that crash were still here, still pressing against my ribs.
I walked to the mirror, half-expecting to see blood on my face, But it was just me with a pale and exhausted face.
My reflection looked back with eyes too wide and tired.
“Get it together,” I muttered. “It’s just a dream.”
But my voice didn’t sound convincing not even to me, I made my way to the sink and splashed water on my face.
For a few seconds, it helped, Then, from the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the hallway mirror behind me, just a sign of a shadow.
My limbs went stiff and I turned but I saw nothing.
“Okay,” I whispered, half-laughing. “Sleep deprivation’s doing wonders.”
I leaned on the counter, gripping the edge until my knuckles ached.... Just breathe.
But then came the whisper of a woman's vioce.
“Close your eyes, Lilian…”
I froze big time, Every nerve in my body screamed.
The same words... my mom said, Same vioce.... are my imagining things.
“Mom?” My voice came out like a croak but everywhere went silent.
Just that slow creak from the hallway like the old wood was exhaling.
I backed away, pulse hammering so loud it filled my ears.
“Okay,” I whispered shakily. “Nope.... We’re not doing this tonight.”
I grabbed my phone and turned on the flashlight... The pale beam of my Torchlight cut through the darkness, landing on the empty living room, there was no one there thank goodness.
But the temperature had dropped. I could see my breath fog in the air.
I turned off the light, My heartbeat filled the space where sound should’ve been.
“Seraphine,” I muttered bitterly. “If this is you trying to ‘train’ me again in this God-damned hour, I swear to God .... ”
But deep down, I knew it wasn’t her that's am just making assumptions.
I crawled back into bed, wrapping the blanket around myself like armor.
The shadows on the ceiling looked like tree branches just like the ones that used to hang over our picnic spot.
I closed my eyes and whispered into the dark, “I’m sorry.”
For what, I didn’t even know, For surviving, maybe.
The silence didn’t answer, but this time, I didn’t cry like I did when I have this nightmares, I just lay there, listening to the echo of my heartbeat until morning scraped its pale fingers across the window.
When I finally spoke again, my voice was small but steady.
“Ugh… I got the nightmares again,” I whispered. “This is not good.”
And somewhere far off, I could’ve sworn I heard it again that soft, ghostly voice.
“Close your eyes, Lilian…” and of course I did.