try to escape

When I opened my eyes again, everything felt... wrong. The familiar heaviness of fear settled in my chest before my mind could even catch up. I slowly lifted my head, blinking in confusion, and realized I wasn't in the same room anymore. The walls were different-closer, colder-like they were quietly closing in on me.

I sat up on a small, narrow bed, my body stiff and sore, my heart instantly racing. The room was much smaller, almost suffocating, with barely enough space to breathe freely. To one side, I noticed an attached washroom, its door slightly open, the dull light inside making the place feel even more unfamiliar.

A wave of panic washed over me. When did they move me? How long was I asleep? My mind scrambled for answers, but none came. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to find comfort in my own presence, but the loneliness felt sharper here.

"No... no, no, no," I whispered frantically, my breath coming out uneven as panic clawed its way up my chest. I can't stay here. The walls felt too close, the air too heavy, as if the room itself was trapping me. My heart pounded wildly, every beat screaming the same thought over and over-I have to go. I have to escape.

I forced myself off the bed, my legs trembling beneath me, barely steady but driven by desperation. Fear buzzed through my veins, sharp and electric, yet it pushed me forward instead of freezing me. I stumbled toward the door, my hands cold and shaking, my mind racing with a thousand terrible possibilities.

What if it's locked? What if he's waiting outside?

I reached out, barely daring to hope, and wrapped my fingers around the handle. For a split second, I hesitated, my breath caught in my throat. Then I turned it.

The door opened.

My eyes widened in disbelief, my heart leaping with a fragile surge of hope. It was unlocked. Actually open. For the first time since I was taken, the possibility of freedom felt real-terrifying, fragile, but real. I stood there frozen for a moment, listening to the silence beyond the door, knowing that this might be my only chance.bit before i go out side two men came and darg me back . looked me .

This room felt more real. More permanent.

And that realization terrified me far more than the darkness I had woken up from.

a few hours later, the door opened again. The sound alone made my body tense instantly. He walked in as if nothing had happened, his presence filling the room with a quiet authority that made my chest tighten. His expression was calm-too calm-yet his eyes held a firmness that left no room for doubt.

"Where were you going?" he asked, his voice steady, controlled, as if my fear meant nothing.

The words I'd been holding back burst out of me. "Let me go," I cried, my voice breaking as tears burned my eyes. "I don't want to live here. Please-just let me go."

He didn't raise his voice. He didn't rush toward me. He simply looked at me and said, coldly, "Lower your voice."

Something inside me snapped. Fear mixed with desperation, and I shook my head violently. "No," I shouted, my hands clenched into fists. "You can't keep me here. You have no right. Let me go!"

For a moment, there was silence. Then a faint, unsettling calm crossed his face. "Oh," he said quietly, almost casually, "but I can."

My heart sank.

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "So," he continued, his tone firm and unyielding, "tell me where were you going?"

I stood there trembling, anger and helplessness choking me at the same time. The room felt smaller with every second, the walls pressing in as I realized my words, my screams, my resistance meant nothing here. His calm was more terrifying than rage, and in that moment, I understood that escaping wouldn't be easy-not while he was in control.

His eyes hardened slightly as he looked at me, his patience thinning. "I asked you something," he said firmly, the calm in his voice carrying a quiet warning that made my heart pound.

"I... I was escaping," my voice stuttered as the words left my lips, fear making my throat tighten while my eyes dropped to the floor.

His lips curved slightly, his tone disturbingly soft as he leaned closer. "So tell me, sweetheart," he asked calmly, eyes dark and unreadable, "what punishment do you think you deserve for trying to escape?" The words sent a cold wave of fear through me, my heart sinking as the weight of his control settled heavily in the air.

I flinched, my heart racing, but I forced myself to meet his eyes. Swallowing the fear threatening to spill out, I said firmly, "I don't deserve any punishment." My voice trembled just slightly as I added, "I said leave me." Inside I was terrified, but I held onto every ounce of courage I had, refusing to let him see how shaken I truly was.

He sat on the bed like a king, legs crossed, his eyes fixed on me. "Come here," he commanded. I shook my head, voice steady but heart pounding, "No." His calmness felt dangerous, and I could sense the anger simmering just beneath.

His voice snapped like a whip, "I said fucking come here!" Rage radiated off him, and my stomach tightened. I could feel the danger in the air, every muscle in me tensing, but I forced myself to stay still, hiding the fear clawing inside.

He suddenly stood, his movements sharp and threatening, and stormed toward me. Before I could react, he slammed me against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

My hands clawed at his, trying to push him away, but his grip on my throat was iron-tight. My vision blurred, black dots swimming at the edges as panic surged through me.

I gasped, trying to draw a breath, my chest tightening with terror.

For a moment, he released me, and I sank to the wall, coughing and trembling, trying desperately to steady my ragged breaths.

Relief barely touched me before he seized me again, dragging me close. His lips pressed against mine violently, biting and tearing at my lower lip, and I froze, paralyzed by fear and shock.

Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to escape, but my body refused to respond, trapped under the weight of his overwhelming force.

Tears pricked my eyes as I struggled for air, the panic clawing deeper with every second. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in, and all I could think was that I had to survive, had to find a way out, even if my heart felt like it would break from the terror.

He pulled back abruptly, leaving me shaking against the wall. My lips burned, my throat ached, and my lungs dragged in air like they'd forgotten how to breathe.

I slid down slowly, my legs giving up beneath me, my entire body trembling uncontrollably.

My head was spinning, fear roaring louder than my thoughts.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to feel whole again, trying to remind myself that I was still here. Still alive.

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then turned away as if nothing had happened. "Don't try to escape again," he said coldly. "Next time, I won't stop."

The door slammed shut behind him.

The silence that followed was crushing. I curled myself on the floor, tears finally spilling over, my body aching and my heart breaking under the weight of everything I couldn't scream out loud.

But beneath the fear, something else flickered-weak, trembling, but alive.

I wasn't broken yet.

And somewhere inside me, I knew this wasn't the end. where are you dad are you really dead or not please save me i don't know what to do please god my dad is alive please i can't afford that if he leaves