Right Before The Storm.

Chapter 1.

I NEVER MEANT TO FUCK HIM, BUT EVERYTHING HAPPENED TOO FAST AND NOW I AM NOTHING BUT A GIRL WHO CRAVED HIM WITH EVERY BREATH.

BEGINNING:

“I am sorry, but your brother’s situation is getting critical. We might have to send him to the ICU.”

Isadora stood still, heart slamming against her chest. She stared at the doctor, unable to say a word.

She just remained still, heart squeezing tight in her chest. Was this pain not too much for a 22-year-old jobless orphan?

Just this evening, her boyfriend had called her. Oh! Ex.

He had ended their three-year relationship, referring to her as a pathetic little nuisance, whose problem never ended.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, unwilling to let them stream.

Well, she didn’t blame him. He was right. Since her father died, it had been one problem or another.

Nothing went well for her.

It was just her and her poor brother, who wouldn’t stop falling sick.

Isadora sat at the front of the hospital, nails raking against her hair.

Pain lodged against her chest as she struggled to comprehend the reason life could be this cruel.

Even after graduating as a valedictorian, finding a job was as taxing as remaining jobless.

She thought everything ended when she provided the money for surgery, but now she was back with a restless heart and a mind full of prayer requests.

The cloud clamoured, signifying that it was going to rain.

Isadora let in an inhale, picking herself just as the rain would start pouring.

She sat in the car, motionless.

Her heart was heavy, and the pain crawled through her spine.

What if her brother died?

What if he ended up like their father?

Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she hurriedly blinked them away, shutting the thoughts out.

Her brother was going to be fine.

Nothing would happen to him.

Nothing at all.

Her head rested on the window, and she watched the city of Mexico as it moved in a blur.

Isadora drifted, captivated by the sight that drew her from her misery.

For some minutes, she forgot about her worries and only basked in the serenity of the city that moved in blurs.

But peace is temporary when the soul is wounded.

And hers… hers was split wide open.

Suddenly, the sound of the cabman’s voice filled her ear, pulling her out of her trance.

Isadora blinked, jolting back to reality.

“We are here,” the driver said, and her countenance dropped.

She was back at this empty house again.

Before now, she had always looked forward to returning home, because with Andrew, it was not just a house… it was a home.

She picked a note from her purse and handed it to the driver.

“Thank you,” she muttered, stepping out of the car.

As Isadora dragged her feet against the floor, tired from the life she was living… the sight of something unexpected caught her gaze.

Her steps faltered some inches away, legs halting.

Her breath hitched, and she stood frozen.

Outside her door, her bags stood against the wall, awaiting her arrival.

She didn’t need to be told.

Her landlady was done.…enough of her late payment and pathetic pleas.

Just before Isadora could even say a word, the lady stepped out, a scornful look plastered across her expression.

Isadora’s lips parted to say a word, but nothing came out. She just stood still, numb from all the pain and humiliation she had suffered today.

Isadora’s eyes moved from her bags to the lady.

“Mrs. Lilian…”

“No excuses. I need you out of my apartment.”

She stood back, heart aching from the words.

Her fingers twitched, tears brewing hot against her eyes. “You said you gave me three days…”

“Well… I changed my mind. Someone needs the house now, and I can’t afford to lose…”

Isadora remained still, broken from Mrs. Lilian’s actions and her own lack of words to even express herself.

Some minutes back, she had thought this house was not home enough to lighten her mood and ease her worried heart, but at least, it had been a shelter that covered her shame and shielded her body from both rain and sun.

Now, even that was gone.

She was unraveling….bit by bit, breath by breath.

Isadora moved, finally taking a step closer to Mrs. Lilian. She didn’t have a place to go. If she left this place, she would be as good as homeless. And that? That was the last thing she wanted at the moment.

“Please…” The word slipped past her lips, helpless and broken.

“I will pay back in three days… just give me these three days. I will work and pay back.”

Mrs. Lilian threw her a dagger glare; eyes bathing Isadora with hate. “I gave you three months, yet your unfortunate ass was unable to pay. You think I’m going to make that mistake again?”

Isadora shook her head, pleading with her hands merged. She had used those three days to gather the money for her brother’s surgery.

“Mrs. Lilian… my brother was terribly sick… You know… You know how badly I needed to pay for his bills… please give me this grace… I will…”

Mrs. Lilian said no words. She just walked away, letting Isadora slump to the floor with tears finally streaming down her cheeks.

All her pent-up emotions broke, pain cracking against her ribs.

Isadora sat on the floor, sob after sob racking through her throat.

The pain tore her flesh open, burning so deep she could feel every flame.

Her lungs begged for air, but her heart was drowning. Everything within her quivered….the weight of helplessness, of rejection, of loss… pressing down on her chest like a boulder that refused to lift.

She wrapped her arms around her knees, rocking herself as if the motion would erase her reality. The floor was cold beneath her, but it was nothing compared to the ice spreading in her veins. She wasn’t just hurting… she was unraveling at the seams, silent screams echoing in her soul.

Why was life this cruel?

Why did the world keep taking from her?

She had nothing left to give.

When Isadora finally picked her broken self up, her limbs trembled under the pressure of her pain. Her eyes were swollen, her heart bruised beyond recognition.

She wanted to call her best friend, but the fear of coming off as entitled kept her still. Now the only place that made sense to her was Manson’s bar.

Working with him at his bar would help her with a spot over her head for the night…. and she would be able to just drink her worries away.

Even if it was just for tonight.

Even if tomorrow held more pain.

At least, tonight, she could drink herself into pleasure, sorrow, and pretense.

If life wouldn’t give her peace, then tonight, she’d drink until she forgot what peace even felt like.