𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆

➊ ʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ʟɪꜰᴇ

Mirha's POV:

I was sitting in the back seat of our car, smiling to myself. We had just finished dinner at my favorite restaurant, and Abbu and Ammi were still talking about how proud they were of me for topping my exams. I could see the happiness on their faces, and it made my heart swell with love. I was their only child, and they cherished me more than anything.

Abbu was driving, and we were laughing about something Ammi said. It felt like nothing could go wrong. But then, Abbu took a sharp turn onto a quiet, lonely road. “This way will get us home faster,” he said, reassuringly.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, another car swerved in front of us, its headlights blinding us. Abbu slammed on the brakes, and our car screeched to a halt. “What’s going on?” Ammi’s voice trembled with worry. My heart started pounding in my chest.

Three men got out of the car ahead. They looked dangerous. One of them banged on our window. “Open the door!” he barked. Abbu lowered the window slightly and asked, “What do you want?”

The man smirked, his eyes shifting toward me. “We just want a toy,” he sneered, pointing at me. My blood ran cold.

“Don't you dare look at her!” Abbu shouted, his voice filled with anger. He threw open the door and stepped out of the car. Without hesitation, he punched the man square in the face, sending him stumbling backward.

“Abbu, no!” I cried, but my voice felt small, lost in the chaos.

Before I could even react, the other two men grabbed Abbu, pinning his arms behind his back. The man who had been punched straightened up, wiping blood from his mouth. His face twisted with rage. He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Abbu. My breath caught in my throat.

“No, please!” Ammi screamed, her voice shaking. One of the men yanked her out of the car, and she stumbled to the ground. “Please, don’t hurt him! Please!” She was trembling, her hands raised, pleading.

Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. I wanted to scream, to run, to do anything—but I couldn’t move. My body was frozen with fear. Then, a deafening bang shattered the night.

I saw Abbu fall to the ground, clutching his chest, blood pouring from the wound.

“Abbu!” I screamed, finally finding my voice. I threw the car door open and ran toward him, but the men were laughing—laughing at the horror they had just unleashed.

“No, no, no,” I whispered, collapsing beside him, my hands shaking as I tried to stop the bleeding. But I knew. Deep down, I knew there was nothing I could do.

I held Abbu’s lifeless body in my arms, the blood staining my hands, my clothes—everything. I couldn’t breathe. My chest was tight, and my heart pounded so loud I could barely hear anything else. Tears blurred my vision as I looked up at the men, rage boiling inside me. “Why?!” I screamed at them, my voice hoarse and desperate. “Why did you do this?! What do you want from us?!”

They just laughed, a sickening sound that made my stomach turn. One of the men, the one with the gun, crouched beside me. I tried to pull back, but I couldn’t move. His filthy hand gripped my jaw, his touch making my skin crawl. “Your father didn’t listen,” he said, his breath hot and foul against my face. “We just wanted you, but he didn’t want to share his little toy.”

I clenched my eyes shut, trying to block out the repulsive feel of his hand. My whole body trembled with fear and disgust. I wanted to disappear. I wanted this nightmare to end.