CHAPTER 5

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"The pain you feel today is the strength you feel tomorrow. For every challenge encountered, there is opportunity for growth." - Unknown

Isla Isabelle POV

As the chaos unfolded before me, confusion and pain intertwined within my senses. The loud noises from upstairs, the muffled voices, and the sudden entrance of an enraged woman, referred to as "ma'am," took me off guard. Her words carried a venomous bitterness, directed at a man who had apparently caused her great suffering.

"Bitch, do you know who I saw today? That despicable man who single-handedly destroyed everything I worked so hard for. He ruthlessly blocked my every path, inflicting endless suffering upon me."

Before I could fully comprehend the situation, she unleashed her fury upon me, shouting and delivering a stinging slap to my face. The force of her blow reverberated through my body, leaving behind a searing pain. My mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle of who this woman was and why she harbored such animosity.

In her hands, she held a small knife, the glint of its blade casting a menacing shadow over the room. Fear pulsed through my veins as she approached, gripping my arm with an iron grip. It was a moment of vulnerability, where the threat of harm loomed dangerously close.

However, just as the woman's intentions seemed poised to manifest into violence, another figure emerged into the scene. A man, identified as "sir," intervened, instructing the woman not to harm me. His words hinted at a financial debt, implying that my presence held some value to them.

With a swift motion, they both unleashed their fists upon me, striking my stomach with a force that robbed me of breath. The pain intensified, overwhelming my senses as they forced me to the ground. In a final act of cruelty, they locked the basement door, leaving me imprisoned within my own vulnerability.

after laying in our cold basement floor for hours with blood and bruise painting my body. staring to the nothingness of this four corner of my room. someone open the door and grab a fistful of my hair 

"Get up, you worthless slut! You need to clean the house and attend to my guest," Sir barked, his voice laced with a disturbing satisfaction. I mustered the strength to compose myself, fixing my torn and loose shirt, and reluctantly made my way upstairs to carry out my assigned tasks.

As I busied myself cleaning the bathroom, the sounds of raised voices pierced through the thin walls. My heart raced, and a sense of unease settled within me. With cautious curiosity, I cracked open the bathroom door, hoping to catch a glimpse of the unfolding commotion.

To my astonishment, I witnessed Sir and one of his acquaintances engaged in a heated altercation, brandishing a gun between them. Fear gripped me, my trembling hands instinctively gripping the door frame for support. Panic surged through my veins as the gravity of the situation sank in.

Before I could fully process the unfolding chaos, a group of police officers stormed into the house. Their authoritative presence filled the space, their voices commanding and resolute. It became clear that they had arrived to restore order and bring justice to this volatile environment.

As the police woman approached me with a gentle demeanor and reassurance in her eyes, I couldn't help but flinch and whimper in fear. The wounds of past abuse had left me wary and distrustful of anyone who came too close. I trembled, my voice faltering as I mustered the courage to respond to her.

"W-Will you promise... promise you won't hurt me? I... I don't want any more pain. Sir... ma'am... they'll be angry if I... if I leave," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper, my words tainted with a sense of resignation.

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