CAGED BY HIM
ry'
d to silence the alarm, "Just a few more minutes," I mumbled to myself. I can't help it.
ng, heart racing, drenched in sweat. I fought to escape the nightmare. Crying, be
LASHBA
ar him laugh as if my pain amused him. Every strike was a reminder of his disgust for my very existence. My mother watched
ands trembling, as she gently dabbed my wounds with ho
where but here." Her eyes would flash with anger. "
de. He burst into my room and yanked me to the living room. I braced for the usual punch
r!" I couldn't believe my ears. Even my father paused, shocked by her defia
ed his vision. He turned on her, slamming her head agains
dy to defend my mother. Just as I was about to strike, she pus
cene. I rushed to my mom's limp body, panic consuming me. "Please wake up!"
d of flas
y dad. Now, at 20, I navigate this tough world alone. No family, no friends
ir de Lune, a fancy restaurant known for its affluent clientele. This could b
screamed professionalism. I styled my long, shiny brown hair into a sleek ponytail, applied a hint of lip gloss, an
my heels, grabbed my bag and shot one final look at my reflection. No time f
the entrance as I was already running late, only to collide with a solid figure. A man.
it back, "Sorry," I mumbled, extending the phone toward him, but then I noticed his face. His face was grim, with no hint of humor, almo
ng he'd take the phone, so desperate to escape his intensity . But h
ne in his hand, stuttered out another apology, and bolted toward the restaurant
stantly taken aback. Wow! It was stunning. The decor spark
an interview," I said eager yet nervous. She smiled and directed me to the fourth
of the rooms. She seemed like another candidate. I approached her. "Hi, is this the right office for
es sat at a cluttered desk, surrounded by files. I greeted him, try
re for an interview," I
atch? You're a bit late." I quickly apologi
answered every question, pushing past
impressed. "You're quite outspok
I beamed, hope igni
ss Ivory," he said as I exited the office, heart