A Love Restored

A Love Restored 88



My body went rigid. “Fun part?” I whispered to myself, the sound trapped in my throat.

“It’s dangerous, Sam.” One of the men said. “We need to get the work done and get out of here.”

My Dad was getting our house robbed? Why?

A cold sweat prickled my skin. They weren’t just here to steal. They wanted to play with us, to terrorize my mom and I before taking whatever they desired. And my father was involved in it. My mind raced, searching for an escape, an advantage. The hanger felt useless in my trembling hand, a pathetic shield against their dark intentions.

Then, a thought, sharp and desperate. If they thought I was alone, if they believed I wasn’t fighting back… maybe, just maybe, I could turn the tables. It was a gamble, a dance with madness in the heart of my own home, but it was my only hope.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I forced myself to relax, to mimic the stillness of the shadows. They wouldn’t expect resistance, not from a scared girl hiding behind a door. But I wasn’t just a girl anymore. I had to do something. I had to go to my Mom. I had to call Felix.

Their footsteps moved away, fading into the labyrinthine house. Silence descended, suffocating and heavy

I waited a few minutes before pushing the door open. On my tiptoes, I took a few steps outside the kitchen. The door to the house was right there. I could have run. I’d be safe, then. I could run away all the way to Felix’s house. Even if he wasn’t there, his family would surely help. But I needed to be quick

My heart raced as I attempted to flee the house, my mind consumed by fear and panic. Seeking refuge, I dashed towards the door of my house, only to discover more men gathering on my porch, blocking my escape. Frozen in place, I realized there was no way for me to run without being noticed

With a sinking feeling, I retreated back inside, quietly closing the door behind me. I moved through the shadows, my footsteps muffled on the floor. Finding a concealed spot to hide, I strained to hear the low and menacing voices of the men as they entered the house.

‘Heard a noise, didn’t you? one of them grumbled.

“Yeah, sounded like it came from in here,” another replied, his voice sending a chill down my spine.

I held my breath, pressed against the wall, as they discussed the mysterious sound. The men’s footsteps drew closer, and I prayed they wouldn’t discover my presence. The room felt tense as their conversation echoed, and I strained to control my breathing.

“Check over there,” someone instructed, their voice uncomfortably close.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to be invisible, to blend into the darkness. Every creak of the floorboards beneath their weight heightened my anxiety. I listened intently, hoping they would soon leave, and my concealed position would go unnoticed.

“Nothing here. Maybe it was just the wind, one of them suggested.

I clung to that shred of hope, waiting in silence, hidden and vulnerable. The men’s fading voices signaled their departure, and I breathed a sigh of relief. In that moment of uncertainty, all I could do was wait for the right time to escape. And pray.

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