Lonely At the Top

the living room, sensing the exhaustion seeping into every fibre of my being. Despite my weariness, a sense

xt to me on the couch. I am too tired even to think about taking a refreshing shower. The

th my heart and would shower me with affectionate kisses on my forehead. However, an unexpected turn of events abruptly altered the course of my life. The harmonious melodies, the intricate braids, a

by books. They became my safe place, where I felt protected. As I got older, I got

ad worked so hard for at school and the restaurant. But he not only took my savings, he also took away a part of m

the TV or the washing machine. It felt like a ne

lights. My father had been in a car accident and didn't survive. It seemed lik

that even though my father was gone, his debts and obligations to them still existed. In that mome

ible task. I had nothing except a flicker of strength inside me and a strong desire to live. I refused to

cover letters to big companies, hoping for a chance to earn enoug

and thunderous knock on the door. Startled, I jolted upright, my body

ds. The rusty hinges creak as I swing the door open, revealing three unsettling figures standing before me.

s on the couch, flanked by his two towering bodyguards, their vigilant eyes scanning the room. It

glow of the flame illuminates his face as he takes a drag, his intense gaze fixed on me. The sheer i

ke an eternity." Jack finally breaks the silen

racehorse within my chest. Struggling to swallow the lump that has formed

stress that had constricted my throat. "It means your debt has increased

e managed to find a good job. I promise to start repaying the amo

sing figure towering over me. His very presence carries a scent of finality, a b

ike a shroud of death. Suddenly, his hand clamps around my throa

e trails off, his gaze piercing into my soul, his grip tightening with each passing

next month will

or air and clutching my throat. I watch as Jack and his bodyguards exit through the do

inst it, I sink to the floor, overwhelmed by a torrent of tears. The task of repaying the entire de

remaining days. But there is another part of me—a hidden reservoir of strength we often fail to acknowledge. It is the part that propels us

fight. Wiping away my tears, I rise from my pit of despair, filling my lungs with t

to surrender and face a premature end. There are countless experiences awaiting me, like love and happiness. But my upbringing, marred by the threats

heavily on my mind. I take a deep breath, mustering all the strength I can, before dialling m

ings, she fin

attempting to sound cheerful des

her voice brimming with

g a smile. "How about you?

uncertainty. "Well, there's something I need t

can't let her know what has just transpired or wha

ol fees?" I ask, tryi

or you to make ends meet," she says, her voice filled

he weight of responsibility feels overwhelming, but

reply, my voice filled with determination. "You deserve the be

r end of the line, and I can

r you. I don't want to add to your troubles," s

to spill over, but I fight them back.

focus on your studies. That's what matters the

and I won't let anything

ing my words. Finally, she speaks, her voice

do without you. You've always been there for

. "That's what family is for, right

the danger lurking just outside our door. It is a burden I have t

face, I will fight tooth and nail to secure their future. I will find a way to settle

be, I make a solemn promise to myself. I will not give up. I will fight. Changing into my py

ghtstand, I switch off the lamp, and this time, the darkness that sleep offers is a comforting embrace, alm

ng determination to overcome any obstacle and triumph against the odds. With each passing moment, the flame of hope burn