Ishq hua

Prorogue

When my foster parents brought me to our new home, concern etched their faces as they noticed my newly prepared room's issue, a broken window that allowed the winter chill to seep in. My bed was placed right beside it. We were in London, and the season only amplified the room's icy atmosphere.

The room was pretty, probably the prettiest place I had seen throughout my life since the 15 years of my existence for the first time. The walls were a mix of pink and white with white curtains falling over the bed like it belonged to a princess.

Lights cascaded along the walls, and a small walk-in closet led to an attached washroom. A pink dressing table gleamed in the corner, accompanied by a study desk adorned with a carefully curated book collection.

The guest room lacked a comforter. Mom and Dad suggested swapping rooms for the night, but I insisted I was fine because Armaan, my foster brother was already fast asleep and I didn't want to be a disturbance. 

Instead, Mom proposed I sleep in their room while Dad will mange in the living area.

Overwhelmed by their kindness, I struggled to accept the unexpected turn. After seven years of neglect and abuse by my biological parents, followed by adoption into another abusive household, I had resigned myself to such harsh realities.

Dreams were too far fetched for me and reality was a nightmare.

A few weeks ago, tragedy struck when a fire had claimed my foster parents' lives. I'd been at school and survived, returning to the orphanage once more. I'd rather died with them in the fire than surviving.

Aimless on the streets, I had narrowly saved a young boy from a car accident. And surprisingly, he turned out to be my new foster brother - Armaan.

My new parents had offered driving me back to my home and after realising I had none, and moved by my circumstances, decided to adopt me.  Strangely, I didn't resent their pity after the life I'd endured, I would've welcomed any gesture of compassion.

I have seen people detesting being pitied at, even a few kids back at the orphanage. Not me though - I would even beg for people to pity me back then.

Self respect is a term highly hyped and glamorized in a modern society, painting a picture of it as something that we all should have but honestly when it comes to survival, breathing is all we need not some shitty ego show because that won't bring you food.

What my new new parents hadn't realized was that the room with the broken window was infinitely better than any cold, dark space I'd inhabited before.

I assured them I would manage, eventually coaxing them to their room after a tiring ten-hour flight.

Yet, when I lay upon the soft mattress, i couldn'tfind sleep, not because of the cold because Dad shifted a piece of wood in front of it which had some holes but it was okay and Mom had covered it with an extra blancket so that the air wouldn't enter.

But the reason I couldn't sleep was because the mattress was too soft amd despite two hours of trying, sleep eluded me.

I thought dark scared me so the lights were on but eventually, I gave up, extinguishing the lights and settling onto the floor beside the bed. There, huddled in solitude and cuddling myselfwithouta blanket despite the cold, sleep found me within minutes.

When morning came I felt someone beside me. When I opened my eyes,  I met Mom's gaze as she sat by my side, gently stroking my head. Her tear streaked face filled me with guilt. They quickly realized something was amiss, showering me with the love and warmth I'd never known.

It took time, but I began to open up to them. Over the next year or two, I learned what it meant to have a family. Dad later confided that they'd adopted me not out of pity, but because they felt a connection as though I were the missing piece to their happiness.

I had found my world, my happiness but then one random day My husband came barging in my life and ruined it all.

He married me forcefully only to abandon me right after that because he wanted revenge on my family.

Now two years later when I have almost found all my missing pieces back, he decided he wants me and he will have me even if it means breaking me in the process.

The Predator is out for me and he won't stop before he ruins me with every single fucked up part of him.

The first chapter will be out soon but only on Scrollstack  and a few days later on Wattpad.