Spiting on his face!

PENIEL

I couldn’t keep living like this, waking up every day feeling like I was drowning in silence. So I walked to the window, with my weak legs. Looking down, I realized I was on the third floor. Not too high, but high enough. My stomach twisted in agony and I held it with both hands, trying to steady myself. I couldn’t imagine falling from here. The thought alone made my chest tighten.

I felt like my life didn’t matter. I wasn’t anyone special, no one would miss me. But then, I thought of my mom. Her worried face came to mind so clearly. Who would take care of her if I disappeared? She had already lost so much. I couldn’t do that to her.

And then there was the child. The one growing inside me. Even though it came from a man who hated me, who hurt me, I couldn’t bring myself to harm it. It wasn’t it fault, it didn’t ask to be here. 

I placed my hand over my belly, feeling the faintest flutter. It was real. And somehow, that mattered.

I stood there for a long time, staring out at the world below. Eventually, I stepped back from the window, not because I felt strong, but because I knew I had to keep going. Find a better chance to escape this hellhole, for my child and my mom. 

I went and sat on the bed, my  hands rested on my lap, fingers tangled together, trying to hold myself together, as I basked into the silence of the room, until I heard the door creak open.

I looked up, startled, as Alpha Luciano stepped inside.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, his eyes scanning the room before settling on me and I felt my breath hitch. 

He walked in slowly, closing the door behind him. “You’re still here,” he said lowly.

I nodded, unsure what to say. My throat felt tightened, as I tried to catch my breath when he glanced at my stomach, then back at me. “You didn’t jump?”

The words hit me like a slap. My mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out, Ijust stared at him, frozen, unsure how to respond, as my heart thudded in my chest, loud and awkward, like it didn’t belong to me.

He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, his face unreadable. Then he said, almost casually, “I saw you staring out the window earlier. But I didn’t think you’d actually do anything. You’re not the type.”

I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “You’re too much of a weakling. You can’t even stand up to the people who push you around every day. How would you ever go through with something like that?”

His words were sharp, but he didn’t say them like he was trying to hurt me. That made it worse. It was like he truly believed it, like it was true,  not an insult.

I felt something twist in my stomach, was it embarrassment? Shame? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I suddenly felt very small. Like I had been caught pretending to be someone I wasn’t. 

I looked away, my eyes burning. I didn’t want him to see my face. I didn’t want him to see how right he might be.

And in that moment, I realized something awful, I had made a fool of myself, again. And right now I look pathetic. 

He looked at me with cold, narrowed eyes, his voice sharp like blade.  “I couldn’t care less about you,” he said. “You mean nothing to me. But if you ever try to hurt my child… you won’t like what I’ll do. And don’t think your family will be safe either. If you even think about it, they’ll pay too.”

The words hung in the air like smoke, and my face instantly went pale, with breath caught in my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t move. I found it hard to believe what I’d just heard.

How could someone be so cruel? So heartless? Even now, even in this situation, when I was already broken, already hanging by a thread, he still found a way to make me feel worthless and replaceable.

I looked at him and there was no warmth in his eyes. He just stared at me like I was a problem he needed to control, not a person who was hurting.

Immediately, something inside me shifted. Maybe it was anger, or it was just the exhaustion of being afraid all the time. Whatever it was, I smiled. A small, bitter smile. 

“You shouldn’t threaten me,” I said, my quietly but firm. “If you really want this child, you should be treating me with kindness and respect. Not like this.”

He scoffed, but I didn’t stop.

“You think I’m weak because I didn’t jump today,” I went on. “But you’re wrong. I didn’t jump because I was scared. But not of dying. I’m not afraid of that. I don’t value my life anymore. And if I ever decide to go… I won’t need a window. There are easier ways. Quieter ways. A bottle of poison would do just fine.”

I paused, letting the words sink in. “And if I go… your precious child goes with me.”

His face changed in an instant. The smugness vanished and his eyes darkened, with his jaw clenched. 

I saw his reaction coming, but I wasn’t fast enough to dodge, and before I could take a step back, his hand shot out and wrapped around my neck. 

He slammed me against the wall, his grip tightening. Panic surged through me, as his fingers dug into my skin, and I clawed at his hands, gasping and choking.

His face was inches from mine, his eyes twisted with rage. “Don’t you ever say that again!” he growled. “Don’t you dare!”

Despite his hand still tight around my neck, I managed to smirk. The kind of smile that comes when you’ve got nothing left to lose.

“Go ahead,” I rasped, my voice barely more than a whisper. “Kill me.”

His grip faltered for a second, just enough for me to suck in a shaky breath.

“It would be better than bringing someone like you into this world!”  I said, my words trembling but clear. “Better than raising a child who has your blood. A maniac like you!”

I didn’t plan what happened next. It wasn’t something I thought through. It just happened, and before I could stop myself, before I could even think about the consequences, I spat on his face. “Bastard!”