In the stillness of the house, silence isn't peace,
The echoes of anger, the storm that won't cease.
Little Nebula, with eyes so wide,
Sits in the shadows, her heart tries to hide.
She hears the yelling, the slamming of doors,
Her mother’s soft cries, her father’s cruel roars.
She’s too young to understand, but she feels the pain,
Watching the destruction, again and again.
Her hands are shaking, her chest filled with dread,
And the monsters inside her grow with each thread.
She’s just a child, trapped in the storm,
With a mother who cries and a father so torn.
The air is thick, and the walls close in tight,
As the darkness takes over, there’s no end in sight.
Every night she hides, behind the old couch,
Her tiny body shaking, her heart a soft touch.
She can’t stop the voices, the harsh, bitter sound,
Of her father’s fury that makes the house drown.
But one night, a spark ignites in her chest,
A whisper of power, a truth she can’t suppress.
With trembling hands, she grabs the knife,
Her body quakes, but she’s done with this life.
Her father stands tall, with rage in his eyes,
But Nebula steps forward, no fear in her cries.
In a blink, it was done, no turning back,
Her father’s cold body, no life to track.
Her mother stood still, frozen with dread,
Then turned, walked out, leaving her for dead.
In the dead of the night, Nebula stands alone,
Her father’s blood staining the cold, hard stone.
Her mother’s footsteps fade into the dark,
Leaving behind a girl who’s now lost her heart.
She stares at the walls, the silence so loud,
The girl in the mirror, lost in a shroud.
She’s just a child, with her innocence torn,
A life that was stolen, a soul that’s worn.
The waves of time crash, the memories stay,
Of the man she killed and the mother who ran away.
Alone in the silence, with no one to care,
Nebula whispers, “It’s not fair."
The waves of time will never end,
For Nebula’s pain has no one to mend.
She stands in the shadows, her heart black as night,
Haunted by the ghosts of the past, out of sight.
