The Widow's revenge

Brittney's Pov

My scream ripped out of me before I could stop it.

I collapsed against the coffin, my fingers gripping the edge of the coffin like it was the only thing keeping me upright. My knees buckled, and if not for the women behind me, I would have fallen straight to the floor.

“He didn’t deserve this,” I cried. “He didn’t deserve to die like this. He is too young to die.”

The room echoed with wails and whispered prayers, but mine was the loudest. I couldn’t stop it. The pain was too much. It felt like my chest had been split open and left bleeding.

Then a hand struck my face.

The sound was so sharp it almost made me deaf

My head snapped to the side as gasps erupted around us. For a second, everything went silent in my ears except the ringing.

I looked up slowly.

My mother-in-law stood in front of me, her face twisted with rage, her eyes burning into mine like she wanted to tear me apart.

“You killed my son!” she screamed.

The words slammed into me harder than the slap.

“What?” I whispered, unable to breathe properly.

“You’re the reason he’s dead,” she continued, pointing at me. “Ever since he married you, his life turned upside down. You brought him bad luck. You drained him.”

“That’s not true,” I cried, shaking my head. “I loved him. I...”

She lunged for me again, but hands rushed between us, grabbing her arms, pulling her back as the room erupted into chaos.

“She killed him!” she shouted as they dragged her away. “This woman killed my son!”

I didn’t fight them when they pulled me back too.

I couldn’t.

I just stood there, frozen, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.

They closed the coffin.

The sound of it echoed in my head like a door slamming shut on my life.

That was it. That was the last time I would ever see his face.

My parents weren’t there. They were out the country to deliver some goods leaving me only in this misery.

They hadn’t been there since the morning I called to tell them my husband was dead. They said they were busy. That they’d come later.

They never did.

It was just me and his family, people who looked at me like I was a curse they couldn’t get rid of fast enough.

By evening, they were all gone.

The house fell into a silence so heavy it felt like it was pressing down on my chest.

I sat alone in our bedroom, still dressed in black, staring at his portrait on the wall. His smile was calm, almost peaceful. Like he hadn’t shattered my world by leaving me behind.

“I don’t know how to do this without you,” I whispered.

My voice cracked.

A loud bang echoed through the house.

I flinched, my head snapping toward the door.

Another bang followed, harder this time.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Hello?” I called, my voice trembling.

No answer.

Before I could move, the door burst open.

Four men walked into the house.

They were big, dressed in dark clothes, their faces cold and unreadable. One of them shut the door behind him and locked it.

The sound made my stomach drop.

I scrambled back until my spine hit the headboard. “Who are you?” I demanded, even though fear had already started creeping into my bones. “Why are you in my house?”

One of them looked around slowly, his gaze dragging over the room before settling on me.

“So you’re the widow,” he said.

My throat went dry. “You need to leave this house right away.”

He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Your house isn’t yours anymore.”

My pulse quickened. “What do you mean? What do you want?”

Another man stepped forward and threw a folded document onto the bed. “Your husband took a loan from us.”

I stared at the paper. “That’s not possible,” I said quickly. “He would’ve told me if he does.”

The man laughed softly. “Men don’t tell their wives everything.”

My hands shook as I picked it up. The numbers made my vision blur.

“This has to be a mistake,” I whispered. “My husband cannot do this. But he is dead now.”

The first man leaned closer. “Dead or alive, a debt is a debt.”

Tears burned my eyes. “Please. I just buried him today. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“That’s not our problem.”

“I can sell the house,” I said desperately. “The car. Everything. Just give me time.”

“No.”

The word was sharp and final.

My breathing turned uneven. “What do you mean no?”

He tilted his head slightly. “It means you’ll pay another way.”

A chill ran down my spine. “Another way how?”

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Then he said it.

“You.”

The room spun. “What?”

“You’re the repayment,” he repeated calmly. “Your husband agreed to it.”

“That’s a lie!” I cried. “He would never do that to me.”

“He knew exactly what he was doing.”

My chest tightened painfully. “You’re lying.”

One of them grabbed my arm.

I screamed and shoved him back. “Don’t touch me!”

I jumped off the bed and ran.

I reached the door. My fingers wrapped around the handle.

I almost escaped.

Pain exploded in my scalp as someone grabbed my hair and yanked me back. I cried out, kicking and struggling, scratching blindly as panic took over.

“Let me go!” I screamed.

They dragged me through the hallway, my feet scraping against the floor.

“Please,” I sobbed. “I’ll do anything. Please.”

They ignored me.

Cold air hit my face as they shoved me outside. A vehicle waited, with the engine running.

One of them leaned close and whispered, “You belong to us now.”

They shoved me inside the car and slammed the door shut.

As the car pulled away, I stared at the house growing smaller in the distance.