PROLOGUE

I hug my knees as I curl up closer to the headboard of the bed. My body trembled in fear and my lips quivered. A tear slips down my cheeks but I don't make a sound or say a word.

I move my head for my chin to rest on my knees. I stare at the red bed stained with my blood as more tears run down my face. The thoughts of last night played in my head and I just couldn't shake it off.

The whips, the terror of bondage. He was huge and hurt me so badly. In my attempt to free myself like I could, my wrists were red from continuous movements. He didn't stop. He didn't care. He continued, deriving pleasure from my pain, while I lay there helpless.

He forced me to call him daddy and I clearly remember his little whispers of I love you and that I was his. Is this what love truly felt like?

Pain and one-sided pleasure?

After hours of ruminating about my horrible night with the man I called my uncle, I got down from the bed and headed out of the room after getting dressed.

"Bianca." Elle's soft voice called the moment I walked out of the red room. I turned to face her after cleaning my tears. Her face softened and I knew from the way she looked at me with sympathy, pain, pity, and regret that she knew. She knew about the red room. That's where she always disappeared at night. She was also a victim.

After the death of my parents, I was brought here to stay. I met Elle and a few other girls who are now married off. Elle is five years older than I am but still, we mingled well from the first day. I thought we shared and told each other everything until today. Now, I feel betrayed and hurt. It was draining both emotionally and physically.

"You knew?" I confront her in a low tone.

"Bianca I'm so sorry I did..."

"Keep your apologies, Elle. You knew all these while but said nothing." I felt like breaking down right this moment. I look down at her and then up to meet her eyes. "How long has this been going on for?"

"Since I turned eighteen."

I step back from her. I place a hand over my mouth, trying not to scream out my pain so I take it out on my hair. I pull at its strands and turn my back at her to start walking away but then I stop and turn to point at her. "You're a monster. You're no different from him, Elle." I cry.

I turned eighteen yesterday on my birthday. We were both in our room laughing and chatting about me legally being an adult when he called. She let me leave without telling me a word. She said nothing and watched me go to my ruin.

"I was forbidden to say a word, Bianca." She moves closer to me and stretches her hand in an attempt to touch me but I budge and step back. "You shouldn't say a word too. Whatever happens, there ends there. Say nothing to anyone or you'll be punished."

"I...I can't do that. I can't live such a life. This is hell."

"This is our life now, Bianca."

"No. Not here. Not with this man." I hug myself shaking in thoughts of how helpless I was last night.

"He loves us." She said in a cracked tone and I knew she was comforting herself not to cry.

I stare at her thinking of his eyes as he told me he loved me last night. They were soft, mischievous, and anything that contradicted the word love. He didn't love me. He only loved what I offered. He loved what he could get from me. He loved the pleasure.

Looking at Elle, I now felt towards her, just what she felt for me. Sympathy, pain, pity, and regret. She was gullible and believed every pretty sweet word he whispered to her in his red room.

"I may not have a full understanding of what love is, but the five years I spent with my parents before they died, definitely showed me that love isn't the terror I experienced in that room." I swallowed and cleaned my cheeks before walking downstairs, outside to the pool at the back of the house.

I stood at the edge, staring at the deep blue water. My hands shook and my heart raced. I took slow steps away from the pool, my eyes not drifting away as my breathing heavied. I'm aquaphobic, especially to water bodies as deep as this pool.

I stare at its blueness and depth. I don't know why I came here. I was having a panic attack from what it now seemed, but I still couldn't find my legs to walk away from the pool. I haven't missed my parents so much until this day and now, all I think of is how I can meet them wherever they are.

I move closer to the pool. I didn't know if I was trying to overcome my fears or something else. All I knew was, I couldn't keep up to live such a life. I must be weak to think of suicide just after experiencing the red room for the first time. Tears ran down my cheeks and I wondered if I should rethink my decision.

"Bianca!" Elle shouted and I could hear the panic in her voice. She knew about my phobia. Who would have known that she cared?

The moment I snap my head up to look in her direction, my legs lose their balance and slip into the water out of fear. The moment my body hit the water, I knew there was no coming back.

"Aah!" I managed to push myself up but I went back down cause I couldn't hold myself up there. My heart raced in fear. I couldn't swim and I was panicking. My hands struggled for the top. When I didn't feel my hands go above the water, I realized I'd gone deep into it. I look down at the distance from me to the floor and then up at the distance from me to the top. I struggled more in fear. I panicked as I continuously drank the chlorinated water.

One moment I thought of drowning myself and now, I'm scared to death of drowning. Trying to survive seemed like a mission impossible. My throat ached from the water and my body was starting to give in to the water. My legs kicked slowly and my eyes fluttered until they finally shut closed.

The last thing I remember before giving up was a huge pair of hands taking me out of the water I tried so much to survive.

Even after almost experiencing death and the fear that came with it, a part of me didn't want to be saved but also, a part of me was glad. Now, I couldn't run. I couldn't escape. Just as Elle has said, this is our life now. A messed up life.

The next day, I went again into the red room. I was beginning to hate him and beginning to love what we did. At the end of the day, the only thing I loved in my life was the pleasure we both derived in his red room.

I still wasn't convinced this was love. He has made me miserable and he needed to pay the price for it.