but from start
Absolutely! Here's **Chapter 1** from the very start, with clear explanations, raw emotion, rich dialogue, and a serious, detailed flashback scene at the end. This version is ready for your website and will help readers feel every moment.
---
## Chapter 1: Broken Glass
A violent storm slammed against the lighthouse, shaking the old stone walls. Inside, Zane stood alone in the bathroom, steam rising from the bath and swirling around his scarred, muscular back. He stared at his reflection in the foggy mirror, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.
He barely recognized himself. His eyes were hollow, lost.
He whispered, "Who are you now? What have you become?"
Suddenly, memories crashed over him—shouts, fire, blood. He tried to push them away, but they only grew stronger.
He muttered, "Stop it. Please, just stop."
The pain was too much. Zane snapped. He started punching the mirror—hard, over and over.
Bhom. Bhom. Bhom.
Glass shattered, spraying sharp pieces everywhere. Blood ran down his hand, but he didn't notice. He just wanted the pain to end.
In the hallway, Emma heard the chaos. Fear shot through her. She ran to the bathroom door and tried to open it, but it was locked.
"Zane! What's happening? Open the door!" she yelled.
There was no answer, just more glass breaking.
Emma's voice shook. "Zane, please! Talk to me! Let me in!"
Still nothing. She panicked, grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall, and started smashing the door.
Bang. Bang. On the third hit, the lock broke and the door flew open.
Emma rushed in. She saw Zane, naked and bleeding, still punching the broken mirror.
"Zane! What are you doing? Stop! You're bleeding!" she cried.
He didn't seem to hear her, lost in his own world of pain and anger.
"Don't come near me! I can't stop!" he shouted, his voice wild.
Emma stepped closer, even though she was scared. "Zane, look at me! It's Emma. I'm here. You're not alone."
He shook his head, tears mixing with sweat and blood. "I don't want you to see me like this. I'm… I'm a monster."
Emma grabbed his arm, ignoring the glass cutting her hand. "You're not a monster. You're hurt. Let me help you. Please, Zane, come back."
He finally stopped, breathing hard. His eyes cleared a little as he looked at her.
"Emma… I'm sorry. I can't control it sometimes."
She pulled him away from the sink, blood and water mixing on the floor. "It's okay. I've got you. Sit down."
They both sank to the hallway floor. Zane saw the blood on her hand.
"You're hurt. Did I do that?" he asked, guilt flooding his face.
She nodded, tears in her eyes. "You did. But I'm not leaving you. Not ever."
He looked down, suddenly embarrassed to be naked. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself. "I… I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Emma."
She pressed the towel to his bleeding hand. "Don't apologize. Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on inside your head."
He shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. I'm not who I was."
She squeezed his hand. "Then tell me who you are now. I want to know. I want to help."
He looked at her, lost. "I don't know if I can be saved."
She smiled softly, even through her pain. "Then let me try."
He gave a weak laugh. "You're stubborn."
She grinned, tears on her cheeks. "So are you."
He stood up, wrapping his bleeding hand with a strip of cloth. He found some old nuts and bolts, placed them in his palm, and tied them to his knuckles.
He looked at his hand and whispered, "Next time, I'll hit even harder."
He went to Emma's room. She was sitting on the bed, bandaging her hand. He stood in the doorway, looking serious.
"I'm leaving. Maybe I won't come back. The team needs me. I can't let them down," he said.
Emma turned to him, fear in her eyes. "Don't say that. Zane, don't go. Please. I need you. I'm scared for you."
He shook his head, voice gentle. "I have to. I can't let them down. I can't let you down, either."
She grabbed his arm, desperate. "Stay. Just for tonight. Please, Zane. I don't want to lose you."
He looked at her, eyes full of pain. "Emma… I wish I could. But I have to do this."
She started to cry. "I can't lose you. Not again."
He touched her cheek, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry."
He gently punched her, just hard enough to knock her out. He caught her as she fell, carried her to the bed, and covered her with a blanket. He turned on the fan and put a glass of water next to her. With shaking hands, he wrote a note:
*If I don't come back, know this was the last thing I did for someone. I love you, Emma. I always have.*
He looked at her one last time. "I'm sorry, Emma. I hope you forgive me."
He left, the storm swallowing him.
---
### FLASHBACK
As Emma lay unconscious, her mind slipped into the past—back to the first day of university, years before the scars and storms.
It was early morning. The air was heavy with fog, and the campus felt enormous and strange. Eighteen-year-old Zane sprinted across the wet grass, his bag bouncing against his back, panic in his eyes. He was late—already, on the first day. He reached the classroom door just as it clicked shut.
The janitor stood there, arms crossed, shaking his head. "Not today, kid. You're late."
Zane's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He looked through the small window in the door, saw rows of students already seated, the professor writing on the board. He spotted Emma, her face a mix of worry and hope as she searched for him.
He backed away from the door, heart pounding. He could hear the class inside, every second making him feel smaller, more out of place. For a moment, he almost turned and walked away.
But then he noticed the old oak tree just outside the classroom window. He swallowed hard, glanced around, and made a choice.
He climbed the tree, his hands slipping on the damp bark, nearly losing his grip twice. He could see students inside, some already noticing him, whispering and pointing. Zane's face burned with shame, but he kept going. He reached the thick branch just outside the open window, took a shaky breath, and jumped.
He landed awkwardly in the aisle, feet slipping, nearly falling onto a desk. The room went silent. All eyes were on him. The professor stared, stunned. Zane stood there, panting, face red, not sure whether to laugh or run.
Emma couldn't help it—she smiled, relief and pride mixing in her eyes. Zane caught her gaze, tried to smile back, but his nerves showed. He gave a small, awkward wave.
The professor finally spoke, voice flat. "Mr…?"
"Zane," he said, voice barely above a whisper.
The professor sighed. "Take your seat, Zane. Next time, use the door."
Zane nodded, shuffling to the empty seat beside Emma. He sat down, still catching his breath, not daring to look at anyone else.
Emma leaned over, whispering, "You're insane. But… I'm glad you made it."
He looked at her, a shy, grateful smile breaking through. "I didn't want to let you down."
For a moment, everything felt possible. He was just a boy trying to belong, awkward and brave, doing whatever it took to not be left behind.
---
Emma held onto that memory, even as darkness pressed in. The boy who climbed trees for her was still somewhere inside the man walking into the storm.
---
**End of Chapter 1**