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Chapter 2

Author: Ishabdool
last update Last Updated: 2021-12-22 17:06:07

I groaned and awoke at an ungodly hour to the chirping of Mexico street crickets. The early morning sun shone brightly on my face, and I couldn't help but sit up and gather my wits.

I've been sleeping on the streets and wandering around for the past 14 years, ever since my father was brutally murdered in front of my eyes. It was a heartbreaking experience that has stayed with me, and I vowed to avenge my father's brutal death in the most painful way possible ever since the day I was able to flee.

I don't have any reason to shoot you, little girl. "You must flee right now," he said. "Do you have a way to follow?" I couldn't help but nod vigorously when he asked. "Now, get up and run until you can't anymore, and make sure no one sees you while you follow the back door, okay?" He whispers something into my ear.

I gave my father one last look before fleeing through the back door, my heart racing wildly, and I immediately smacked my leg on a stone, blood dripping down. The pain in my leg was nothing compared to the pain I felt in my heart; I am emotionally exhausted.

I was running down the next street when I heard a loud gunshot and my heart skipped a beat. I turned around and saw our house on fire, my heart constricted, my leg couldn't move any further, how could they be so cruel to burn my father inside that house? My chest became heavy at that moment, my vision blurred, and I sputtered unconsciously onto the floor.

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself in a new environment, and I realized immediately that everything had been a dream. I knew my father would walk into the room now and peck my cheeks, reminding me it was all a dream.

"Dad, she's awake!" I heard a small voice say something.

"Oh my goodness! How are you doing, little girl?" I heard another voice say, and I turn my head to the side from which the voice is coming, only to come face to face with an unknown person. To say I was perplexed would be an understatement. I couldn't get a word out of my mouth, and tears began to flow freely from my eyes.

"It's okay, baby girl," I shrieked from my bed, and everything came back rushing back to my head swiftly, the school, my dad, the boss, the machine, and my dad's heart everything flows onto my head and I collapse back on the bed.

When I heard them ask what happened, they hurriedly called a doctor, and before I knew it, a syringe was injected into my hand.

I was released from the hospital two days later, and this strange man drove me to his house. I was introduced to his wife and their only child, and all I got was a nod.

Mr Jackson, who took me in, assigned me a room with his son Lionel, who was the same age as me and in his final year of kindergarten.

Everything was fine with me, except Lionel's mother frequently bullied me when Mr Jackson went to work. I became a maid even though I was young, my age was never taken into account, and I never seemed to mind until the day Lionel came around to play with me, I told him to leave me alone, he refused, so I abruptly stood up from the bed and strangled his neck, he kept pleading and screaming but couldn't.

His mother walked up to me furiously and slapped me across the face, my expression still blank, and another one echoed on my right side cheeks.

She dragged me to the parking spot, threw me in the back seat, and then sat in the front seat with her son. And drove away quickly and with great haste.

The car came to a halt, and she motioned for me to exit, and I did so, only to hear the door slam shut behind me. She had already left and left me alone on the street before I realized what was going on.

It was getting dark, and I was still wandering around on the desolate Street. I'm hoping that someone with a good heart will come to my aid soon.

I awoke on the street the next day, my stomach grumbling, realizing I hadn't eaten anything since the previous morning. I was so hungry that I walked over to the garbage cans, which were only an inch away. I rummaged through it and discovered some leftover food, which I quickly brought out and ate. I went to rummage through another trash can, hoping to be lucky enough to save some for lunch.

"Are you okay?" I raised my head when I heard someone say this. I casually nod and continue because the person appears to be my father's age.

"Wait a minute!" He yells as if I care.

"I need to survive, mister, so please allow me to save for lunch," I explained.

"Woah! What age are you?" He inquired.

"I'm six years old," I replied.

"Six?" He was astounded, as if he had never believed me. "You must be a bright young lady for your age," he added.

I close the trash can and move on, leaving him behind. "Seriously, where do you live?" He inquired once more.

I was already sick of his questions. "Homeless," I said, continuing.

"I'm so sorry!" "Do you mind if I stay with you?" He asks, and I smile back, closing the bin and happily dusting my hand.

"Yes," he said, and then he led me to his car and drove out of that street.

We both got out of the car and went inside.

As soon as we stepped inside, he said, "Welcome to my home." The structure appears to be more of a warehouse, with workers at work. He drew their attention to me, introduced me, and warned them to be respectful of me. After the welcome, I felt good, and things weren't too bad.

Andrew Corona introduced me to his drug-selling business a week after I became acquainted with the locale. Gradually, I began to learn faster than expected, and as young as I was, I was forced to sell it to clients, and in a short time, I was making a lot of sales for him.

I quickly became his favorite, and he never hesitated to teach me everything there was to know about the job. After about a year, I began gambling and was always successful.

purchasing lottery tickets, going to casinos, playing slot machines, betting on sports, or gambling online We're all a part of the favorite on which I bet and always win, making Andrew happy.

He was always proud of me, and I made sure not to step on his toes. Only his PA gives me a headache; he was always lashing out at me whenever he could. He makes my stay miserable, but I don't mind because Andrew is always there to protect me from everyone.

Andrew took me out a year and a half later, saying I needed to catch my breath, that I was still a kid who needed to have some fun and make some childhood memories, and I agreed.

He took me to a park and bought me ice cream, cheese, and a large amount of chocolate. And all of a sudden, the situation reminds me of my father. I've missed him so much that it hurts. I wish I could have been with my father, and I wish he had never been killed.

"Are you okay?" Andrew inquired.

"Yeah, I'm fine; all I can think about is my father. He had planned to take me out over the weekend, but it never happened." I said this after we sat down together on a seat.

"You never tell me about your family, and whenever I ask, you cry. Do you mind telling me now?" He inquired, and I nodded.

"My father was murdered, and I never got to see my mother because she was also killed," I explained.

"That's so sad; you should be strong in order to become a strong independent lady." Be stronger, don't let your emotions get the best of you, get smarter and wiser, and then avenge your parents' deaths. Don't rush into it; instead, let it be a gradual process as you grow older."

"Are you aware of the agonizing retaliation?" I was perplexed when he asked, "Earn his trust," he said as he stood up, leaving me trailing behind.

"Thank you for everything," I said as we got into the car. "You are most welcome, Cynthia."

Andrew Corona was diagnosed with cancer six months later, and after receiving treatment in the hospital, he was discharged and asked to return the following week. Everyone was sad, but I was especially heartbroken because I had grown so attached to him.

Everything I did became less important, and I found it difficult to concentrate once more. I was always there for him on his sickbed. When he's sleeping, his PA will come after me and chase me out. He'll ask me to run errands that aren't necessary.

I returned one day to find Andrew dead on the floor. I limped over to him and gently touched his brow. It was as cold as ice, and I lifted his hand, but he was lifeless. My lips screamed, and I cried out in agony.

I dashed to his PA's office to tell him what I'd seen, but was perplexed by what my eyes met. He was busy making out with a girl while his boss died in front of him. When he called me in, I couldn't understand a word and wanted to leave.

I screamed, hoping he had simply passed out and would awaken soon.

"How come you badged in without first knocking on my door?" "Do you like what you saw?" I was disgusted when he asked.

"Uhm, you...you should check in on the boss, i. "I believe he passed out," I stammered, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Oh!" I'll check on him now, so get out and let me finish what I just started," he said as I stormed out of the office and shut the door behind me.

I wasn't even thinking clearly; I was just numb

As I returned to the room, I collapsed and sobbed on my knees; he was my only hope for survival. I stood up when I heard the door creak open and saw him walk in. Instead of looking at Andrew's lifeless body, he approached me, and I became terrified.

"You," he said, pointing at me. "I killed him because of you," he whispers in my ear and I shriek in panic. 

Why? Why do you feel compelled to murder him because of me? "Do you despise me that much?" I inquired.

"Yes, I despise you!" I've despised you since the first time you were introduced to us here. I knew you were astute. That's why he picked you up off the street; you quickly became his favorite and even sold more; you always made me jealous, especially when you won after each gamble. He became ill and was diagnosed with serious cancer, and I knew he might die and leave everything we built together to you, whom he chose only two years ago." I was taken aback when he confessed.

I couldn't stop crying again; everything was so uncalled for!

Is this a game that can be won?

I couldn't take it any longer two weeks after the unbearable stay under the rule of Mark, his PA, as I became his puppet and was always punished at every chance. So I stuffed some drugs into my bag and fled in the middle of the night.

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