Will you Be My Girlfriend

🦋 BENITA 🦋

On September 25, 2009, I lost my mother when I was just 10 years old. That same day, my father remarried, bringing a stepmother into my life.

Ten years later, on September 25, 2019, I was uprooted from my father's house and thrown out, like a weed. I found myself sleeping in the filthy corners of the street before I began working in a bar where I also had to sleep.

On September 25, 2020, I got into serious trouble that nearly cost me my life, and I had to pay off the debt with myself.

Then, on September 25, 2021, I was sold to Mr. William Cunningham, the aging CEO of Julian Financial Services. He was old enough to be my grandfather. It was on this cursed day that the real horror of my life began.

Just a year later, on September 25, 2022, I attempted to escape from Mr. William by climbing over a wall, but it only resulted in broken legs and nothing more.

It's always the same date: September 25, the day of horror-my birthday.

And today, on September 25, 2023, I'm trying once again to save my life, though I fear it won't end well because it's September 25.

***🦋***

I ran down the dark, quiet street, my bare foot bleeding from the countless cuts I acquired from the sharp objects my foot danced on while trying to escape.

My stomach cried from starving for days, and my throat tightened from thirst.

But I ignored every pain in my body; the most important thing to me at that moment was escaping. It would be worth every single pain I feel right now if I find a saviour.

A car zoomed past me, and I chased after it with torn clothes, breathing heavily and screaming, "Help!"

The car didn't stop, and until it was out of sight, I didn't get tired of chasing after it. I collapsed to the ground, my heavy and fast heartbeat was mixed with tears of sorrow. If only my mother weren't dead... would my life have turned out differently? It all started with the death of my beloved mother.

I saw another car speeding towards me, dragging myself up, I stood at the center of the road, it was my last hope – you either save me or kill me.

The car came to a stop, I puffed out a sigh of relief. I thought my terror was over. Four men stepped out of the car, and with the last strength I had in me, I whispered, "Please help me!"

The front man chuckled sarcastically, and before I knew it, three men were holding me down, and the last one was on top of me.