As the sun set on another cold October day, I found myself seething with anger. I paced back and forth in the modern bedroom, my thick natural hair swinging gently as I moved.
It was the first of the month, I had been here for a few weeks.
The events of the past few weeks replayed in my mind, and I felt a mix of emotions; frustration, confusion, and a growing sense of bitterness towards Anthony.
How the fuck he just gone kidnap me? And think that it's okay.
"How could he be so controlling and arrogant?" I muttered to myself. He was fine as fuck though ian gone lie about that but he had me fucked up.
I understood that Anthony had brought me to this place and showered me with attention and romance. But I didn't ask for any of this. I was pretty much living the same before he kidnapped me.
Oh my god.
My job.
I could be fired.
Still, the fact that he was now essentially holding me captive left a sour taste in my mouth. I missed my freedom, my home, and my boyfriend, Devontay, despite our relationship having its fair share of issues.
Even though he was a piece of shit, I still had love for him.
Thinking about Devontay brought a twinge of guilt. I realized that I hadn't given him or my friends a single thought since waking up in this house or even my parents.
"They must be worried sick." I said aloud, feeling a sudden urge to reassure them of my safety. But then, another thought struck me-why hadn't they come looking for me? Did they even know I was missing? Perhaps Anthony had forgotten to let them know that I was okay.
