Chapter Thirty Nine

9K 563 96
                                    

With all honesty, I'm kind of losing motivation to write and I'm running out of ideas and strategies to write. Don't know If should blame school for suffocating me or just simply blame myself.

Fix me is soon coming to an end , only a few chapters left and then an epilogue! x

Anyhow, I hope you like this chapter enough to vote, comment and share! x

- Rania x

(Unedited)

Warning: mature language

| Layla's POV |

My heart feels heavy with dread and torture. I feel like I can't breathe on my own anymore but like there is a small part of me telling me to hold on, to keep on hoping, to keep on fighting.

It feels like years have passed by but I know that it can't be more than a few days. I've been sitting in this bloody room, with chains keeping me attached to the wall. I can't move my hands nor my feet. I can't pray, recite the holy book or raise my hands and make dua'a. My mouth is taped with God knows what and the only thing I'm left to do is wish and hope and pray with my heart.

My heart... The only thing in my body that isn't bruised and dirty.

It's not only pumping blood throughout my body but it's also yearning and missing the person I love with all my heart. Adam.

I look down at my ripped clothes and feel another set of hot tears trail down my bruised and bloodied face. I let my tears flow freely, not being able to wipe the sign of weakness and vulnerability away.

I miss my family. My angel, my sweet sweet little angel and Adam.

Ya Rabb help me get through this alive, don't take me away from my daughter, she needs me. Help me ya Allah, I need you.

I feel myself start to shiver as the cold slowly starts approaching me through my thin ripped clothes. I close my eyes and will the tears away. Every night around this time, someone would barge in to check on me, that entailed escorting me the bathroom with my hands handcuffed, while the person held my hair in a tight grip making me wish I was shot dead instead.

I don't remember much except waking up in this room blindfolded with a nauseous feeling and a headache. I haven't eaten anything, not even a single bread crumb, but every time I'm escorted to the bathroom I take the chance to drink water from the bathroom faucet to keep my organs working. As soon as I'm returned to the dark room, and have my hands and arms locked handcuffed with chains, that's when the torture begins.

It has happened every night I'm here.

They would enter the room and head my way, and without warning start to abuse me. Both mentally and physically. At first I would fight them, but now I don't have any energy left in me, everything feels broken. I know for a fact that I have broken ribs and perhaps a broken jaw. From all the swelling on my body, I could guess that I'm suffering from internal bleeding too. There would be a different man abusing me every night, they would stay for a few minutes and use my already broken body as a punching bag, and they would leave me crying and whimpering with a pool of blood under me form the new injuries they've given me.

I only recognized one of the men, the moment I saw him I felt my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach as a numb feeling took over my chest.

As if on cue, the man himself enters the room and stares at me viciously.

Fix me (COMPLETED) #Wattys2016Where stories live. Discover now