Shattered Silence

Ava Dawson has spent her entire life walking on eggshells. To the outside world, her family is perfect—wealthy, respected, untouchable. But behind closed doors, she lives in fear. Controlled by a manipulative mother, ignored by a father who refuses to see the truth, and tormented by a sibling who thrives on her pain, Ava has learned that silence is the only way to survive.

But silence has a price. Every bruise, every cruel word, every shattered dream has taken a piece of her. The walls are closing in, and the more she fights, the tighter their grip becomes. Just when she thinks she’s out of options, a chance at escape presents itself. But freedom isn’t easy—especially when the people who claim to love you will do anything to keep you under their control.

As dark family secrets come to light, Ava realizes that escaping her past won’t be as simple as running away. The deeper she digs, the more dangerous the truth becomes. And some truths are better left buried.

Will Ava break free from the chains that bind her, or will her silence become her prison forever?

A story of pain, resilience, and the unbreakable will to survive—Shattered Silence will grip your heart and leave you breathless.

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Chapter 1 – The Perfect Lie

The house looked perfect.

From the outside, it was everything people admired—a grand two-story home with tall windows, a neatly trimmed lawn, and a white picket fence. A place where a happy family should live. A place where laughter should echo through the halls, where warmth should fill every room.

But inside, it was cold. Silent. Suffocating.

I sat at the long dining table, my hands neatly folded on my lap. The smell of roasted chicken and garlic rice filled the air, but I had no appetite. Not when I could feel my mother’s gaze burning into me from across the table.

"Eat," she said, her voice sharp, controlled. A warning.

I picked up my fork, forcing myself to take a bite. The food tasted like nothing, like paper in my mouth. I chewed slowly, carefully. Any wrong move could set her off.

My father sat at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone as if he wasn’t even there. As if he didn’t notice the thick tension in the air.

And then there was him.

Liam. My older brother. The golden boy. The one who could do no wrong. He leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he tapped his fingers against the table. He wasn’t eating either—he was watching me.

Waiting.

I knew what that meant.

Dinner would be over soon. And then it would start again.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "May I be excused?" I asked, keeping my voice soft, careful.

My mother’s eyes narrowed. "You’ve barely eaten."

"I’m not feeling well," I lied.

For a moment, silence filled the room. And then—

The sharp clatter of silverware against a plate.

Liam chuckled under his breath. My father didn’t even look up.

"You always ruin dinner," my mother muttered, shaking her head. "So ungrateful."

My chest tightened.

I lowered my gaze, gripping my fork so tightly my knuckles turned white. I wanted to scream. To fight back. But I knew better.

Instead, I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I’m sorry."

"Go," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

I pushed back my chair, my legs unsteady as I stood. I could feel Liam’s stare following me as I turned toward the hallway.

I needed to get to my room. Lock the door. Just make it through the night.

But before I could take another step, his voice stopped me.

"See you later, little sister."

My stomach twisted. My hands clenched into fists.

Because I knew exactly what that meant.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

---

I walked down the hallway as calmly as I could, even though my heart was pounding. Each step felt heavier, like I was dragging myself toward something inevitable.

My bedroom door was just a few feet away. If I could just get inside, lock it—

A hand grabbed my wrist.

I froze.

Liam.

He was behind me before I could react, his grip tight, fingers digging into my skin. My body tensed, fear crawling up my spine.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he murmured, his voice low, mocking.

I kept my head down. "To my room."

He chuckled, pulling me closer. "You didn’t even say goodnight."

My stomach churned. I hated this. Hated how he played these games.

"Goodnight, Liam," I whispered, forcing the words out.

His fingers traced up my arm, slow and deliberate, making my skin crawl. "That’s not how you say it," he murmured.

I bit my lip, willing myself to stay still. To not react. That’s what he wanted—to see me flinch, to see me break.

"Let go," I said, barely above a whisper.

His grip tightened. "Or what?"

The hallway was silent. My parents wouldn’t come. They never did. No matter what they heard, no matter what they knew.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. "Please."

For a moment, he just stared at me, his dark eyes filled with something twisted. Then, finally, he let go, shoving me back a little too hard. I stumbled but caught myself.

Liam smirked. "Run along, little sister."

I turned and rushed into my room, locking the door behind me. My hands shook as I pressed my forehead against the wood, squeezing my eyes shut.

Breathe. Just breathe.

I listened—waiting, hoping.

A few seconds passed. Then his footsteps retreated down the hall.

Only then did I let out the breath I’d been holding.

I was safe. For now.

But I knew this wasn’t over. It never was.

---

I stood there for a long time, forehead pressed against the door, my breaths uneven. My hands were still trembling, my skin still crawling from where Liam had touched me.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to cry.

But I did neither.

Instead, I forced myself to move. To lock the second bolt on my door, even though I knew it wouldn’t stop him if he really wanted to come in.

I turned around, my room bathed in darkness except for the faint moonlight seeping through the curtains. The space was neat, everything in its proper place—just how my mother demanded it. The bed perfectly made, the desk organized, the books lined up in alphabetical order. A perfect room for a perfect daughter.

Only, I wasn’t perfect. Not to them.

I sat on the edge of my bed, my body aching with exhaustion, though I hadn’t done anything all day except exist. And existing in this house—surrounded by them—was enough to drain the life out of me.

I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror across the room. The dim light made my features look softer, almost fragile. My dark hair fell in loose waves around my face, my eyes dull, hollow.

Was this really me?

Or was I just a ghost of the girl I used to be?

I reached for the drawer, my fingers brushing against the cold metal hidden inside. The small pair of scissors I kept there, my only source of control.

My breath hitched as I ran my fingers along the sharp edge.

One cut. Just one. To remind myself I was still here. Still real.

But before I could press down, a sound made me freeze.

A knock.

I stiffened, my fingers curling around the scissors as my heartbeat thundered in my chest.

"Lai—" My voice broke before I could finish his name.

Silence.

Then, another knock. Louder. More insistent.

Panic flared in my chest. I scrambled to hide the scissors under my pillow, my breaths coming out too fast.

"Open up," Liam’s voice drawled through the door.

I squeezed my eyes shut. No. Not tonight. Please, not tonight.

I didn’t answer. Maybe if I stayed quiet, he’d leave. Maybe—

The handle rattled.

"Don’t make me ask again, Ava," he warned.

I forced myself to move, legs unsteady as I stumbled toward the door. My fingers hovered over the lock, hesitation gripping me like ice.

If I didn’t open it, he’d get mad.

If I did…

My hands shook as I twisted the lock.

The door swung open instantly, and there he was. Liam leaned against the frame, his smirk lazy, his eyes dark with something unreadable.

"Took you long enough," he muttered, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

I moved back instinctively, but he was already too close.

"Did I scare you?" he asked, tilting his head as he watched me.

I shook my head. "No."

His smirk widened. "Liar."

His fingers brushed against my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear. My entire body locked up.

"Mom’s upset with you again," he murmured, as if it was just casual conversation. "Says you’re always ruining things."

I swallowed, my throat dry. "I didn’t do anything."

Liam sighed, shaking his head. "You never do."

His hand dropped from my hair, but the tension in the air didn’t ease. If anything, it thickened.

Then, without warning, he reached out—his fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"You should be more grateful, you know," he mused. "You have a good life here."

My nails dug into my palms. "If it’s so good, why don’t you take my place?"

Something flickered in his eyes. Amusement. Annoyance. Maybe both.

"You always have such a sharp tongue," he muttered, his grip tightening just enough to make me wince.

I wanted to fight back. To shove him away. But I knew better.

Liam liked to play with his food before he ate it.

And I… I was the food.

"Get out," I whispered, my voice barely holding steady.

For a moment, he just stared at me. Then, he chuckled, finally letting go.

"Sleep tight, little sister," he said, stepping back toward the door. "We’ll talk more tomorrow."

He left just as quickly as he came, the door clicking shut behind him.

I stood there, my legs trembling, my chest rising and falling too fast.

I should have been relieved. But I wasn’t.

Because I knew…

Tomorrow would be worse.

And I had no way out.

---

Chapter 2 – A House of Secrets

Morning came too soon.

I barely slept. Even with the door locked, I didn’t feel safe. I had stayed curled up in a tight ball under my blanket, listening for any sounds outside my door. Every creak, every shift in the silence sent my heart racing.

Now, the first rays of sunlight slipped through my curtains, casting dull golden streaks across my room. I forced myself to sit up, my body stiff, my head heavy.

I had to get up. I had to move.

My family hated laziness, and if I wasn’t downstairs before breakfast, I’d regret it.

With a deep breath, I pushed off the covers and walked to my closet, grabbing the first hoodie I could find. I pulled it over my head, letting the oversized fabric swallow me. It made me feel small. Hidden. Safe.

Even if I wasn’t.

The kitchen was already alive with the sounds of clinking plates and murmured conversation when I stepped in. The smell of fresh toast and coffee filled the air, but my stomach churned.

My mother stood by the stove, her back straight, her hair perfectly pinned into a bun. She didn’t look at me as she flipped an egg onto a plate. My father sat at the table, reading the newspaper, as if this was a normal family breakfast. As if we weren’t broken.

Liam sat across from him, sipping his coffee with that same lazy smirk on his face. His eyes flicked up the moment I entered, and I knew—he had been waiting for me.

"Good morning, sweetheart," my mother said, her voice smooth, too controlled. "You’re late."

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes down. "I’m sorry."

She turned, finally looking at me. "Are you?"

I nodded, taking the seat farthest from Liam.

Silence stretched between us as my mother placed a plate in front of me. Toast, eggs, a few slices of fruit. It was the same as everyone else’s, but somehow, it still felt different.

"You’ll be cleaning today," she said simply.

I nodded again, shoving a small bite of food into my mouth even though I had no appetite.

"Don’t just nod. Say ‘yes, ma’am,’" she corrected, her voice sharp.

I forced myself to look up. "Yes, ma’am."

She smiled, but it never reached her eyes.

Liam chuckled under his breath, stirring his coffee. "She’s so obedient this morning," he mused. "That’s cute."

My hands clenched into fists under the table.

"Liam," my father warned without looking up from his newspaper.

Liam raised his hands in mock innocence. "Just making conversation."

I focused on my plate, willing myself to stay quiet, to finish my food quickly so I could leave. But I wasn’t fast enough.

"After you’re done cleaning, you’ll go grocery shopping," my mother continued. "Liam will drive you."

My heart sank.

Of course, he would.

I opened my mouth to protest, but one look at my mother’s expression told me not to.

"Yes, ma’am," I murmured.

Liam smirked again, taking another sip of his coffee. "Can’t wait."

I could.

I could wait forever.

The drive to the grocery store was quiet.

Liam tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove, his gaze focused on the road. I kept my eyes out the window, watching the blur of houses and trees pass by.

It was strange. The world outside looked so normal. People walked their dogs, kids rode bikes down the sidewalk, laughter floated through the air.

A world so different from mine.

A world I didn’t belong to.

"You’re quiet today," Liam finally said, breaking the silence.

I didn’t answer.

He chuckled. "Still mad about last night?"

I clenched my jaw, gripping the hem of my hoodie. "Can we just get this over with?"

Liam sighed dramatically. "So impatient."

The car pulled into the grocery store parking lot, and I reached for the door handle before he even turned off the engine.

"Not so fast," he murmured.

I froze as his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

His grip was firm, but not painful. Not yet.

I turned to him, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "What?"

He studied me for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Then, he smiled. "Nothing."

He let go, and I didn’t wait—I shoved the door open and stepped out, inhaling the crisp morning air.

For the next hour, I tried to focus on the list my mother had given me, keeping my head down as I moved through the aisles. Liam followed lazily behind me, making small comments about my choices, but I ignored him.

At checkout, I reached into my hoodie pocket for the cash my mother had given me—only to realize it was gone.

Panic surged through me. I checked my jeans, the grocery bag, the cart—nothing.

"Looking for this?"

I looked up.

Liam held up the folded bills between his fingers, a smug expression on his face.

My stomach twisted.

"Give it back," I said quietly.

He smirked, twirling the money between his fingers. "Say ‘please.’"

I clenched my fists. "Liam—"

"Say it."

I swallowed my pride. "Please."

He grinned, finally handing me the money. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

I snatched it from his hand, turning back to the cashier, my face burning with humiliation.

He was always like this. Always playing with me, testing me, seeing how much I could take before I snapped.

And no matter how much I hated it…

I never snapped.

Because if I did, I didn’t know what would happen next.

The ride home was silent again.

Liam seemed satisfied with himself, humming along to the radio as he drove. I sat stiffly in my seat, staring straight ahead, waiting for this nightmare to be over.

When we pulled into the driveway, I grabbed the bags and rushed inside without another word.

But just as I stepped into the kitchen, my mother’s voice rang out.

"You’re late."

I stopped in my tracks.

She stood by the counter, arms crossed, her sharp eyes narrowing.

"We were only gone for an hour," I said carefully.

She stepped closer. "And yet, you still made me wait."

I opened my mouth, searching for the right words—words that wouldn’t make things worse.

But before I could say anything, her hand lashed out.

A sharp sting exploded across my cheek.

I gasped, my vision blurring for a second from the force of the slap.

The grocery bags slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Silence.

I tasted blood in my mouth.

My mother exhaled, shaking her head. "Useless."

Then, without another glance at me, she turned and walked away.

I stood there, my face burning, my hands trembling.

And from behind me…

I heard Liam chuckle.

Tomorrow would be worse.

And once again, I had no way out.

Chapter 3 – Bruises That Don’t Fade

I didn’t move for a long time.

The sting of my mother’s slap still burned on my cheek, but the real pain ran deeper.

I bent down to pick up the groceries, my hands trembling as I stuffed the fallen items back into the bags. The sound of Liam’s laughter still echoed in my ears. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting, watching, enjoying the moment.

I kept my head down.

I couldn’t let him see my face.

Couldn’t let him see the tears threatening to fall.

By the time I finished putting everything away, my mother had disappeared upstairs, leaving me alone in the kitchen. The silence felt heavy, suffocating.

I took a deep breath and turned toward the hallway, my only goal being to get to my room, to lock the door, to be alone. But as I stepped forward—

A hand grabbed my wrist.

I gasped, my body stiffening.

Liam.

I didn’t have to turn around to know it was him.

"That was fun to watch," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I swallowed hard. "Let go."

He didn’t.

Instead, his grip tightened, just enough to make my skin sting.

"You should say ‘thank you,’ you know," he continued, his voice low, almost amused. "I could’ve told her we stopped for coffee. Made her even angrier."

My heart pounded.

I jerked my arm back, but his grip held firm. "What do you want?"

Liam sighed dramatically. "You make it sound like I always want something."

I turned my head slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes gleamed with something dark, something unreadable.

"You do," I said quietly.

He chuckled, finally releasing me.

"You’re not wrong."

I stumbled back, rubbing my wrist where his fingers had dug into my skin.

Liam tilted his head, watching me closely. "You should put something on your face," he said casually. "It’s already turning red."

I clenched my jaw. "Mind your own business."

His smirk deepened.

"That’s the thing," he murmured. "You are my business."

I turned and walked away before he could say anything else, my hands curled into fists at my sides.

I hated him.

I hated this house.

I hated everything.

Back in my room, I locked the door and collapsed onto my bed.

I finally let the tears fall.

I pressed my face into my pillow, muffling my sobs as my body shook. I hated crying. Hated feeling weak. But I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

After a while, I forced myself to sit up and walked to my mirror.

A red mark was already forming across my cheek, a perfect outline of my mother’s hand. I traced it lightly with my fingers, wincing at the tenderness.

This wasn’t the first time.

And it wouldn’t be the last.

I turned away, not wanting to see myself anymore.

Instead, I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and checked the time.

5:17 PM.

Hours left until bedtime. Hours left of pretending.

I exhaled shakily, shoving my phone back down. I needed to do something—anything—to get my mind off of this.

I glanced at my bookshelf, filled with old novels I’d read a hundred times. Books were my escape. My only escape.

I grabbed one at random and curled up on my bed, flipping through the pages, trying to lose myself in another world.

Trying to forget.

A knock at my door made me jump.

I quickly wiped my face, trying to hide any evidence of tears.

"Yeah?" I called out, forcing my voice to sound normal.

"Come downstairs."

My father’s voice.

Cold. Unbothered.

I hesitated. "Why?"

"Just come."

I swallowed hard.

It was never good when he asked for me.

When I stepped into the living room, my parents were seated on the couch, and Liam stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach.

"What’s going on?" I asked.

My mother gave me a tight smile. "We’ve made a decision."

I frowned. "About what?"

My father finally looked up. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was firm. "You’re going to start working."

My breath caught. "What?"

"You’re old enough," my mother added. "It’s time you contribute to this family."

"But I—"

"No arguing," she snapped.

I swallowed my words, my heart hammering.

A job? I had never been allowed to go anywhere alone before. They always kept me under strict control, barely letting me leave the house unless it was with Liam.

Something about this didn’t feel right.

"Where?" I asked carefully.

My father exhaled, as if annoyed that I had even asked. "Liam got you something at his workplace. You start Monday."

I turned to Liam, my stomach twisting.

His smirk was back.

"Surprise," he said.

I felt sick.

Of course, it wasn’t just any job. It was a job where he would be there. Where he could watch me.

Control me.

I clenched my fists. "I don’t want to work with him."

My father’s gaze hardened. "You don’t have a choice."

My mother nodded in agreement. "You should be grateful Liam was kind enough to help you."

Kind?

Liam?

I wanted to laugh.

But I knew better.

"You’ll do what you’re told," my father said. "End of discussion."

Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away.

There was no point in fighting.

I had lost before the conversation even started.

"Yes, sir," I whispered.

Liam grinned.

My mother looked pleased.

And my father simply went back to his newspaper, as if I no longer existed.

That night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

Monday would come too fast.

And when it did…

I would have nowhere to hide.

End of Chapter 3

Hi to all readers ,Hope you will like this story mine Hehe Enjoy reading