The Journey

The car sped through the streets, the scenery flashing by in a blur as we drove further away from everything I had known. The reality of my situation settled in, a weight that pressed heavily on my chest. Zoey sat on my lap, her small body trembling with fear and confusion.

"Mommy, where are we going?" she whimpered, her innocent eyes searching mine for answers I couldn't provide.

I held her close, trying to soothe her. "It's okay, sweetheart. Mommy's here. Everything will be alright," I whispered, though my own heart was pounding with uncertainty and fear. I also didn't know where we were going. But I had to act strong for Zoey, it's my responsibility to protect her. 

Zoey's discomfort grew as the journey stretched on. She began to squirm and cry softly, her small fists clenching my shirt. I rocked her gently, humming a lullaby in a desperate attempt to calm her down.

From the front of the car, Mr. Alexander's cold voice cut through my ears. "Keep her quiet. I don't want to hear any noise. Else, I’ll throw her out of here."

Panic surged through me as I looked into Zoey's tear-filled eyes. I couldn't let her cry. I had to keep her calm, no matter what. Mr. Alexander meant every word he just said and I wouldn't risk that. I kissed her forehead, stroking her hair. "Shh, shh, it's okay, Zoey. Please, baby, don't cry," I begged her softly, my voice trembling in fear and confusion.

Zoey's sobs continued, and I felt Alexander's gaze burning into the back of my head. "I said keep her quiet!" he barked, his tone carrying a dangerous edge.

My heart sprinted as I tightened my hold on Zoey, willing her to feel my love and protection. "Zoey, sweetie, listen to Mommy. I need you to be very brave and quiet for me, okay? Can you do that for Mommy?" I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper.

Zoey hiccuped, her cries tapering off into soft whimpers as she buried her face in my shoulder. "Okay, Mommy," she mumbled, her small body still shaking.

I continued to hum softly, my eyes fixed on the passing sight, trying to distract myself from the fear gnawing at my insides. The journey felt endless, each mile taking me further into the unknown, away from any hope of safety, comfort, or return.

As the car drove on, I couldn't help but wonder what awaited us at our destination. The uncertainty was terrifying, but I knew I had to stay strong for Zoey. No matter what happened, I would protect her with everything I had.

The car eventually slowed down, and I looked up to see us approaching a large, imposing mansion. The gates opened, and we drove through, entering the grounds of what would be our new prison. This place was like another city. I wouldn't even go back if I wanted to escape.

The mansion was in a deserted place, there were no buildings, not even a sight of another human being. 

Alexander's voice cut through my thoughts once more. "Welcome to your new home," he said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "Remember, you're here to obey and serve. Disobedience will not be tolerated."

I swallowed hard, my grip on Zoey tightening as the car came to a stop. The reality of our situation settled in, and I knew that whatever happened next, I had to find a way to survive and protect my daughter.

As we were ushered out of the car and into the mansion, I held Zoey close, whispering reassurances into her ear. "We'll be okay, Zoey. We'll get through this together. I promise."

As we stepped out of the car, my breath caught in my throat. The mansion before us was grand and imposing, with tall, stone walls and intricate carvings. The front yard was immaculate, with perfectly trimmed hedges and blooming flowers lining the walkway. The building's exterior, with its large windows and elegant balconies, exuded an air of wealth and power.

Inside, the mansion was even more impressive. The foyer was vast, with marble floors that gleamed under the chandeliers. The walls were adorned with expensive artwork, and the high ceilings gave the space a feeling of grandeur. Despite the beauty, a chill ran down my spine. This place, though stunning, felt cold and unwelcoming.

We were led through the mansion, passing rooms that seemed to overflow with luxury. There were sitting rooms with plush sofas, dining rooms with long tables and elaborate centerpieces, and hallways lined with more art and antique furniture. But the further we walked, the less affluent our surroundings became. The decor grew simpler, the hallways narrower, and the rooms smaller.

Finally, we were brought to a tiny room at the end of a long corridor. The guard opened the door, revealing our new quarters. The room was stark and plain, a sharp contrast to the rest of the mansion. There was only a single, small bed against one wall, just big enough for Zoey and me to share. A small wooden table stood in one corner, and a door led to a tiny washroom. The walls were bare, and the only decoration was a set of white and pink curtains that seemed out of place in such a drab room. A small wardrobe stood against another wall, giving a little space for our belongings.

The guard spoke gruffly. "This is where you'll stay. Make yourself comfortable."

As he left, closing the door behind him, I looked around the room. The bed was hard, the mattress thin. The table was worn, with scratches and dents. The washroom was functional but cramped, with just enough space for a sink, toilet, and a small shower. The wardrobe, though small, was empty, ready to hold the few possessions we had brought with us.

I sat on the bed, pulling Zoey onto my lap. She looked around the room, her wide eyes filled with confusion and fear. I hugged her tightly, trying to give her some comfort. "It's okay, Zoey," I whispered. "We'll be alright. We'll make this work."

Zoey nodded, her small body trembling against mine. "Okay, Mommy."

As I held her, I silently vowed to protect her. This place might be beautiful, but it was also a prison. And in this prison, I would do whatever it took to keep my daughter safe.