The day Jace broke my legs for his sweetheart, I swallowed a full bottle of sleeping pills. As my consciousness faded, I clutched the old train ticket from when we eloped. Then I saw him. Jace. But he was eighteen again. “Does it hurt? I’m gonna kill that bastard!” Eighteen-year-old Jace, the hot-tempered gangster, wiped at my tears, furious. He held a blood-stained steel pipe, pure menace rolling off him. “Tell me. Who did this to you?” My gaze caught on the familiar scar above his brow. Trembling, I pointed at the news report on the TV, where the billionaire Jace Thorne stood in a sharp suit. “It’s your future self!” When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t greeted by the sterile white walls of a hospital. Instead, I was staring at the moldy ceiling of a mansion’s storage room. I tried to move. A piercing pain shot through my legs. Looking down, I saw both legs encased in thick plaster casts. “You’re awake?” The voice was familiar, young, and exploded right beside my ear. I painstakingly turned my head. Crouched by the bed was a boy in ripped jeans, a scar above his brow. Eighteen-year-old Jace Thorne. His eyes were bloodshot. He still clutched the bloody steel pipe. His hand reached for my legs, then froze in mid-air and recoiled. His hand was trembling. “Scarlett, does it hurt?” His voice was hoarse, and fat tears rolled down his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here. We’ll fight our way through this.” I looked at him, despairing. I wanted to tell him it was useless. Just then, the storage room door was kicked open. The loud bang sent dust raining down. Thirty-year-old Jace Thorne stood in the doorway. Behind him, Serena Hayes, clad in a white dress, wore a look of contrived innocence. The scene was so ironic. Eighteen-year-old Jace would have sold his blood just to buy me a hot meal. Thirty-year-old Jace had personally broken my legs just to soothe Serena’s anger. Jace strode in, his expensive leather shoes clicking heavily on the floor. He saw the twelve-year-old elopement ticket still clutched tightly in my hand. His eyes instantly filled with utter disgust. “Scarlett, stop playing games.” “Who are you trying to scare with a whole bottle of sleeping pills? Breaking your legs was meant to teach you a lesson. Stay away from Serena.” I said nothing, just stared at him. In the air, the eighteen-year-old Jace went berserk. “Stop, you bastard!” The boy roared. He raised the steel pipe and swung it in a wild arc at the thirty-year-old man. “That’s Scarlett! How could you?! How dare you!” The pipe hissed through empty air, passing clean through his torso. The eighteen-year-old Jace froze. He stared at his own hands, then raised the pipe and brought it down again. Once. Twice. Three times. Each swing passed through nothing but air. The boy unleashed a raw, guttural scream, his face twisted in agony. “Why can’t I hit him! Why?!” “Is he a monster?! That’s Scarlett!” Thirty-year-old Jace couldn’t hear or see any of this. He was already turning to comfort a “frightened” Serena. She buried her face in his chest, a trembling finger pointed in my direction. “Jace, Scarlett’s eyes are terrifying. She looks like she wants to kill me… I’m so scared.” Jace’s face darkened. To soothe the woman in his arms, he kicked the glass water cup on my bedside table. Smash. A sharp crack. The cup shattered, sending glass shards flying. Several pieces of broken glass sliced my cheek, and blood instantly began to flow. Warm, sticky. I watched the phantom Jace drop to his knees. His ethereal hands frantically scrambled to catch the blood flowing from my face. He was trembling. “Stop… Please, stop bleeding…” “Scarlett, I can’t protect you. I’m so useless…” At the boy’s despair, I laughed. I turned my gaze to the cold, indifferent billionaire Jace, my voice a sandpaper rasp. “You deserve to die.” Jace frowned, a flicker of displeasure in his eyes. I stared into his eyes, enunciating each word. “You personally murdered the year you loved me most.” Jace’s heart inexplicably clenched. The sudden, sharp pain made his face go pale for a moment. But he quickly dismissed the strange sensation. He scoffed, wrapped an arm around Serena, and turned to leave. Only a single, icy sentence was left hanging in the air. “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her die. She’s nothing but bad news.” The door slammed shut. Only the eighteen-year-old ghost remained, kneeling by my bed, repeatedly slamming his forehead against the floor to the empty air.
Jace was holding his autobiography launch. To cultivate a perfect entrepreneurial image, his PR team suggested he completely erase his “gangster” past. That, naturally, included me. The next morning, several bodyguards stormed into the storage room. They roughly grabbed my shoulders and dragged me off the bed. A tearing pain shot through my broken legs. I broke out in a cold sweat but bit my lip, refusing to make a sound. The eighteen-year-old Jace went wild. He swung a phantom knife, stabbing wildly at the bodyguards. “Don’t touch her! Get your hands off her!” He dodged between them, slashing and screaming. But it was useless. The bodyguards acted oblivious, pinning me down without pause. Jace walked in. In his hand was a laser tattoo removal device. Across my collarbone ran a line of black ink: “JT&S.” Jace had dragged me to get it done when we were eighteen. We had no money back then, so we went to some dodgy parlor. It hurt so much I cried. He held me and comforted me all night, swearing he’d never get it removed. Now, thirty-year-old Jace stood before me and switched on the machine. “Remove it.” He commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t want Serena seeing these filthy things and getting the wrong idea, and I certainly don’t want the media catching wind of it.” I looked at him and suddenly found it hilarious. “Jace, you begged me to get this done.” Jace’s face was expressionless. “I was young and stupid back then. Now, I just find it disgusting.” The moment the laser hit my skin, a smell of burning flesh filled the air. Excruciating pain, like an electric current, shot through my entire body. I bit my lip so hard my nails dug into my flesh, but I didn’t make a single sound. I wanted to see if this man’s heart was truly made of stone. “Ah!!!” The phantom Jace beside me let out a heart-wrenching shriek. He knelt beside me, clutching his own collarbone as if the laser were burning him. “Don’t touch her! I endured that pain for an entire night to get that done!” “That’s Scarlett’s skin! How dare you, you bastard!” The boy cried, his body convulsing, tears and snot streaking his face. He tried to push away the doctor holding the machine, but his hands passed through the man again and again. On the TV mounted on the wall, the preview for the launch event was being broadcast live. Serena Hayes was present, introduced as Jace’s “soulmate.” She wore a haute couture gown, and around her neck hung the “Heart of Eternity” diamond necklace that was originally meant for me. Eighteen-year-old Jace had promised me he’d buy it for me someday when he made enough money. Now, it sparkled brightly around another woman’s neck. I was in such extreme pain that I started to hallucinate. I thought I saw young Jace, holding my hand, running in the sunset. He said, “Scarlett, when I get rich, I’ll build you a palace.” I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. I don’t know how long it took, but the laser finally stopped. The letters on my collarbone were now a mangled, bloody scar. Its original form was unrecognizable. Jace walked over to inspect his “handiwork.” He looked at the raw flesh and nodded in satisfaction. “Clean that up properly. No scars.” With that, he turned to leave. In the corner, young Jace was curled up, hugging his knees. He was no longer screaming, no longer raging. He just bowed his head, his voice as faint as popping bubbles. “I’m sorry, Scarlett… My current self is such trash.” “I can’t protect you… I can’t even protect a tattoo.” I endured the intense pain, painstakingly raising my hand. I made a gesture as if to pat his head in the empty air. “It’s okay.” I whispered, and tears finally streamed down my face. “I don’t want him anymore.”
On Serena’s birthday, Jace, in an act of ultimate humiliation, hosted the party at his home. He even forced me, in my wheelchair, to serve drinks and appetizers to his glamorous guests. Clad in a maid’s uniform, I navigated the crowd in my chair. Every shift sent a dull ache through my broken legs. “”Well, well. If it isn’t the fierce Scarlett we all remember.” One of Serena’s friends covered her mouth in feigned surprise. “To think she’d end up a crippled maid. How the mighty have fallen.” A ripple of laughter spread through the room. Serena clung to Jace’s arm as she approached, pretending concern. “Please, don’t speak of Scarlett that way. She’s suffered enough. Scarlett, why not tidy that mess in the corner for me?” She pointed to a pile of clutter. My eyes followed, and my pupils tightened. On top lay a worn wooden guitar. It was my birthday gift from eighteen-year-old Jace, who saved for three months doing construction and selling his blood to buy it. It was the purest romance he’d ever given me during that desperate age. I pushed my wheelchair like a madwoman, rushing towards it. “Don’t touch it!” I screamed, my voice hoarse. A flicker of malice crossed Serena’s eyes. She lifted her stiletto heel and savagely stomped through the guitar’s soundbox. “CRACK!” “Oh, my, why is this junk so fragile?” Serena disdainfully scraped her shoe on the floor. “It’s covered in dust, so dirty.” In that moment, the string of my sanity snapped. I don’t know where I found the strength, but I lunged from my wheelchair. I bit down hard on Serena’s ankle. “AHHH!!” Serena let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Jace! Help! This lunatic is biting me!” “Scarlett! You have a death wish!” Jace’s furious voice roared above me. Immediately, a massive force struck me. He slammed his open palm across my face. SMACK. The blow was incredibly heavy. I was sent flying, crashing hard against the corner of a coffee table. My ears rang, and the world instantly went silent. Blood seeped from my ear, staining the carpet crimson. I couldn’t hear the gasps around me, couldn’t hear Serena’s cries. But I saw it. I saw eighteen-year-old Jace Thorne, completely unhinged. He knelt on the floor, picking up the shattered guitar, trying to piece it back together, but it was impossible. He clutched the broken remains, letting out a silent, anguished wail that tore through the heavens. Then, he suddenly stood, picked up a sharp wooden shard, and lunged at Jace and Serena. He wanted to kill those despicable two. He charged again and again, passing through their bodies each time. Jace held a “frightened” Serena. His eyes, full of disgust, were fixed on my crumpled form. “Lock this crazy woman in the basement!” He pointed at the guitar fragments on the floor. “Burn all this junk! It’s an eyesore!” In the courtyard, flames blazed sky-high. That guitar, which carried all the boy’s love, was tossed into the fire pit. Flames devoured the instrument, crackling and popping. Young Jace, oblivious to everything, rushed into the fire. He wanted to snatch the guitar back. The flames passed through his body as he twisted and struggled in the inferno. “Don’t burn it! That’s for Scarlett! That’s for Scarlett!” He knelt in the fire pit, his hands fruitlessly grasping at the ashes. In that moment, I couldn’t even clearly see the eighteen-year-old Jace anymore. This, I thought, is what it feels like for your heart to die. Jace suddenly felt a pang of panic. That feeling of dread was even stronger than before. It was as if something vital was slipping away from him forever.
Late at night, the rain poured relentlessly. I was locked in the basement, burning with a high fever. My broken legs were swollen like inflated balloons, and the wounds had started to fester. I knew if I didn’t leave soon, I would die here. I dragged my broken legs, crawling towards the narrow vent window. Every inch I crawled left a trail of blood on the floor. “Scarlett, crawl out! Don’t look back!” The phantom boy crawled ahead of me in my hallucination. He was clearing a path for me. He used his ethereal body to shield me from the nonexistent wind and rain. “Almost there, just a little further.” He looked back at me, a encouraging smile on his face, but his eyes were full of anguish. I gritted my teeth, my nails digging into the dirt, inching forward. Finally, I crawled out of the basement. The torrential rain instantly drenched me. I greedily gasped for the outside air. However, the next second, several powerful flashlight beams hit my face. The blinding light made it impossible to open my eyes. “Running? Where do you think you’ll go?” Jace, holding a black umbrella, emerged from the rain. He wore polished leather shoes, and the tip of one shoe hooked under my chin, his eyes full of mockery. “Serena is pregnant. She can’t handle stress.” “Since you love causing trouble so much, you can go stay somewhere quiet.” My body went cold. The “quiet place” was a fully enclosed psychiatric hospital in the city outskirts. Two burly orderlies roughly grabbed me, throwing me onto a bed like a dead dog. My limbs were tightly bound with leather straps. “Give her a shot. Make her quiet.” Jace stood outside the glass window, giving cold instructions. A large dose of sedatives was injected into my body. My consciousness began to scatter, but my heart pounded as if it would explode. I was allergic to this medication. Breathing became difficult, my throat felt as if it were being choked. The monitoring equipment let out a shrill alarm. “Mr. Thorne, the patient seems to be having an allergic reaction, respiratory failure…” The doctor called to ask for instructions. On the other end of the line, Jace was with Serena for her prenatal check-up. His impatient voice came through. “Don’t let her cause trouble. Increase the dosage. If she dies, it’s on me.” The doctor hung up, his eyes turning ruthless. The orderly roughly yanked my oxygen mask aside. “This woman is such a hassle. She’d be better off dead.” A suffocating sensation washed over me like a tide. I opened my mouth wide, but couldn’t draw in a single breath of air. My vision blurred, and the world turned black and white. Just when I thought I was truly going to die. The bloody boy returned. This time, he was no longer an ethereal shadow. The light bulbs in the ward suddenly exploded. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” Sparks flew, and darkness descended. The heart monitor no longer beeped; it emitted a sharp, piercing shriek. Jace Thorne stood in the center of the ward, covered in blood. His body… had solidified! It was an entity forged from ultimate hatred. “Touch her… you dare touch her…” The boy lowered his head, his voice a guttural rasp, thick with the scent of blood. He abruptly looked up, his eyes blazing crimson like a demon. BOOM! He drove his fist through the one-way mirror. A storm of glass filled the air. Jace stood outside the glass, having just rushed to the hospital. His eyes were wide with horror. He stared at the “monster” who looked exactly like his younger self but radiated pure murderous intent. Across the shattered window frame, Jace glared back at his future self. Rain streaked his face, cutting through the blood. His lips drew back, revealing a chilling, blood-stained grin. He mouthed silently. “I told you.” “I’m taking you to hell.”
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