Chapter 1: Escape

Chapter 1: The Great Escape

Luna had always been torn. She knew her parents weren't perfect, but they were still her family. And despite everything, she couldn't bring herself to truly hate them, even when she saw what they did to Adrian.

Her brother had always been the one to protect her, to shield her from the worst of their cruelty. But that didn't stop the pain from creeping into their lives. It didn't stop the bruises that would appear on Adrian's body, the dark circles under his eyes from nights spent in the basement, locked away like he was nothing more than a punishment waiting to happen.

And still, he always smiled. He always smiled for her.

"Don't worry, Loonie," he'd say, his voice hoarse from the hours he'd spent screaming in silence, "I'm okay. Really. I'm fine. Just don't worry about me."

It was a lie, but Luna never called him out on it. She never had the heart to.

The first time she noticed how much he was suffering was when she was fourteen. She'd overheard their parents arguing in the hallway, her mother's voice shrill and demanding. She didn't know exactly what was going on, but when she slipped into the living room, her eyes found Adrian standing by the window, holding his side.

Blood dripped from his lip, and the gash on his cheek was raw and fresh.

"Adrian?" Luna had whispered, her heart skipping a beat.

He turned around, and for a moment, she saw the truth—the tiredness, the strain, the barely hidden pain in his eyes.

"I'm okay," he said again, but there was no smile this time. His voice cracked slightly, the kind of crack that only comes from years of holding back tears.

She wanted to ask him what happened, why he was hurt, why he seemed so broken. But the words died in her throat. She had already known. She had already seen the signs for years.

There was nothing they could do.

Adrian had first suggested they run away when he was nineteen and she was seventeen. He'd always been the first to bring up the idea, the first to suggest they could leave. "We don't have to live like this. We don't have to stay. We could be free, Luna. Just the two of us."

But she hesitated. She couldn't leave. She couldn't abandon the people who gave her life, even if they treated her like she wasn't worth anything. She wanted to believe they could change. She wanted to believe that if she tried hard enough, if she could be good enough, everything would be different. Her mother would finally see her, finally love her. Maybe their father would stop locking Adrian in the basement anddeep. stop hitting him with that heavy belt.

But as the year passed, Luna started to realise something. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't her brother's fault. Their parents had never loved them the way they deserved to be loved.

She saw the bruises on Adrian's arms, the way his shirt would cling to his skin, soaking in the sweat as he struggled through another long night of punishment. She saw the way he flinched whenever their father raised his hand, the way he would shrink into himself, as though trying to make himself invisible.

Luna had her own wounds to bear. Unlike Adrian, who faced their father's anger, Luna suffered in secret. Their mother would strike her when no one was looking, whispering venomous words that cut deep. and but Luna learnt to hide her pain, just as Adrian did.

And still, every time, Adrian would tell her the same thing.

"I'm fine, Luna. It's nothing. It's just a scratch."

And when their mother would lock Luna in her room, he would bring her food, bring her water, even though he had to sneak it past their mother's watchful eyes. He was always looking out for her, always protecting her, even when he didn't have the strength to protect himself.

But Luna did the same for him. When Adrian was locked in the basement, she found ways to sneak him food and water, carefully avoiding their father's wrath. She would wait until the house was silent, tiptoeing through the dark hallways with whatever she could carry, slipping it through the cracks in the wooden door. She never said much—just a soft whisper of reassurance, a silent promise that he wasn't alone. And Adrian would always whisper back, his voice weak but grateful, "Thank you, Luna."

The day she finally realised how miserable their lives were was the day she found him in the kitchen, staring into the empty refrigerator, his face pale and drawn. She could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under an invisible weight.

"Adrian…" she whispered, stepping closer to him.

He turned to face her, but his eyes were empty, as if he'd always been hollowed out by everything he'd always been through. There were no smiles this time, no lies. Just the truth, stark and raw.

"I'm so tired, Luna," he said quietly, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I'm so tired of pretending."

The words hit Luna like a punch to the gut. She had seen it but never heard it. Not like this. The quiet resignation in his voice, the weariness in his bones—it broke something inside her.

"I can't keep doing this," he continued. "I can't keep always protecting you when I'm the one falling apart."

Luna took a step toward him, her chest tight with guilt and love. She had wanted to protect him, to make things better. But it was like standing on the edge of a cliff, reaching out to someone you loved, but knowing they were already too far gone.

"I can't let you go through this alone, Adrian," she whispered, her voice breaking.

But even then, Adrian shook his head, a tired smile on his lips. "You already have. We've always done this together, haven't we? We survive because we have each other."

That was the truth. They survived because they had each other.

And then, everything changed.

That night, as Luna sat on the windowsill, staring out into the dark, the same thought repeated itself over and over in her mind. *They can't keep doing this to us. We can't keep doing this.*

For the first time, she looked at Adrian and saw the toll their life had taken on him. She saw the bruises, the exhaustion, the empty promises. She realized that they didn't deserve this. They didn't deserve to live like this anymore.

It wasn't just about running away anymore. It was about survival. About finally breaking free.

"I'm ready," Luna said quietly, her voice steady with newfound resolve.

Adrian turned to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and disbelief. "Are you really ready?"

She nodded. "I can't keep waiting for things to get better. I need to do something."

And so, with that, the plan was set in motion.

They ran when Adrian was twenty and Luna was eighteen.

Adrian was the one who led her to the airport that night. They had no tickets, no real plan, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that they were finally leaving. They were finally going to be free. Together.

They ran. They ran as fast as they could, their hearts pounding in their chests as they sprinted through the terminal, pushing past the crowd. Their destination didn't matter—it was the fact that they were leaving.

For once, they were running towards something, not away from it.

The rest of the night was a blur—rushing through security, finally boarding the plane, Adrian's hand in hers as they took off. Luna's mind raced, but a strange calm had settled over her. For the first time, she felt like they had a chance. For the first time, she felt like they could breathe again.

But even as the plane climbed higher into the sky, Luna's heart trembled, a strange sense of foreboding settling over her. Something didn't feel right. Something was coming.

And that's when the plane began to shake.