Strong-willed, badass and bounded by the chains of an arranged marriage, Isabela Arias dreams of the freedom to live and love as she chooses.
Being sold to the Italian mafia wasn't exactly on Isabela's to do list...
As she's forced to navigate the r...
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Boredom.
There's nothing to do in here than sleep.
It was not difficult to sleep initially, but as the hours progressed, my body deteriorated at a quicker rate. My stomach growled for food, but I didn't want to show weakness by asking for food. So, I suffered in silence. My throat is so dry — I fear I won't be able to speak because of the lack of moisture.
Quietly groaning, I crane my neck to stare upward at the ceiling, my eyes squinting from the fluorescent lights. I stare directly into them until I feel the irritation at the back of my eyes, looking underneath to see black spots. For a second, I forgot other emotions exist besides hunger.
Would my stomach shut the fuck up if I punched myself in the gut? Is it worth testing my theory? I don't think so. Truthfully, I barely have the energy to breathe, let alone punch myself. I wonder how fast my heart is beating.
To pass the time, I play with the fluorescent lights, my eyes darting between them in a pattern until it's long enough I forget it. Usually, I last ten rounds before my mind begins to fail me, and I forget where to start.
Suddenly, the lights flicker. Their intensity drops a level, and I'm starstruck-- it has never done this before. Uneasy settles on my skin, and my goosebumps emerge as a result. A crackle of thunder tremors through the dome, and I instantly cover my ears. My eyes squint shut after viewing a random bright streak-- lightning.
Thunder roars like a predator searching for its prey in the wild, and the sound effects of rain pitter-patting fill my ears.
A slow smirk draws on his face. "You're going to pay for being such a fucking baby!" Isiah steps closer until my back hits the wall. "You wanted to play, so let's play."
My lip quivers. "I-I don't want to play anymore."
He laughs, an unsympathetic glimmer in his brown irises. "Why not? You bitched to Abuela and Dad. Psst, like they would fucking help you." Isiah pulls my pigtails, forcibly dragging my body. "Why, Isabela? Why don't you want to play?"
Isiah tugs my pigtails downward, and I fall to the ground with a thud. "I-I'm scared."
Isiah runs his hands through his brown hair, his eyes scanning the area, and lands on an item on the shelf. I trace his line of sight slowly to my fish, Princess Sparkle-- he's a boy, my only friend. The only living thing willing to listen to me and hang out with me.
"Say that to Princess Sparkle." Isiah flashes an eerie smile as he grabs the fishbowl off my cabinet and tries to run off until I latch onto his ankles.
"Leave him alone!" I scream, digging my nails into his skin and slicing it open. "He has nothing to do with this."
Isiah's jaw tensed. "You fucking little brat! I'm bleeding!"
