Chapter 8— A Birthday Miracle.

Deven's POV:

Three years ago, at night:

I'm walking back to the club with a huge smile on my face; I'm happy.

I'm happy because today is my birthday and I spent my entire day outside the club, for the first time, with people who were nice enough to treat me to whatever I wanted.

It's a rare occasion for people to treat me nicely, or even talk to me nicely, but I guess I got blessed today. I ate a lot. I did a lot. I saw a lot, and the entire day, I wished it would never end, but I knew I had customers waiting for me at the club.

My giddy steps come to a halt when I look up to find four buff men standing in front of me with Mrs. Bulgarie standing in front of them.

She brings her hand fan to cover the lower part of her face as her eyes strike a shrewd stare at me before looking at one of the men and nodding once.

I immediately swerve my eyes to the man she gave a nod, panic rushes through me as he begins to walk toward me.

Every nerve in me turns to an alarm that glows bright red and blares 'danger' so I walk back quickly, hoping to turn my steps into a sprint, but I feel a strong grasp on my arm before I could step back, I feel a pinch against my neck making my balance unsteady.

My eyes begin to close because of what it is that was pierced into my neck. I hear Mrs. Bulgarie say something, but I don't fully make out what she says because I'm practically knocked out.

"Take her to—" is all I hear before I succumb to whatever's dragging my consciousness away.

I feel something cold wash over me compelling me to open my eyes slowly.

"Great! You're awake," I hear an unrecognizable voice say from across the room.

Speaking of room, where am I?

I sit up quickly and immediately regret it after receiving a greeting from the headache team.

"Do you know where you are, Deven?" The person asks.

I shake my head 'no' because If I try to speak, my throat will feel like it's being rubbed against sandpaper.

How does this person know my name?

"You-"

The person gets interrupted by the door opening.

It's dark in here but when the person walking in opens the door, the small light that illuminates here from the outside helps me make out who it is that walked in here.

It's Mrs. Bulgarie.

I stare at her with every ounce of hope and relief in me— hope that what I saw earlier wasn't her and relief that if that wasn't her, then she could save me from whatever tragedy is about to happen.

"Mrs. Bulgarie, thank God you're here. Please get me out of here!"I cry out in the plea, the shackles attached to my limbs rattle as I try to physically reach out to her.

"Tch! Tch! Tch!" she ticks, walking toward me and stopping a few centimeters from me.

"I see you've already chained her up," she states to the person hidden in the corner of the room while her eyes never leave mine.

Her statement and composure assure me that she's not here to help me— there goes my hope and relief.

"Next time do not stay out later than you're supposed to," she warns as she walks to the door.

No. No. No. Don't leave me here. Please, it's too dark.

I begin to shake my head as she gets closer to the door.

A cloud of tears well up in my eyes, and bit by bit, the tears descend to my cheeks.

"Please don't go! Don't leave me here!" I plea but she ignores me, turns to the person in corner of the room, and nods her head once.

I look between her and the mysterious person as dread compresses my body. Why did she nod?

As she opens the door, my head swiftly turns to her.

"Mrs. Bulgarie, I'm sorry! I won't leave again! Please don't leave me in here!" I continue to cry out, but she's already left and my cries leave with her.

I hear footsteps coming from the corner, so I glance at the source of the noise and find a man coming from the corner.

What is he-

No way. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

It makes sense now. Her nod was an affirmation for him to do with me as he pleases.

It can't happen to me. On my birthday?

I begin to wail as his steps get closer to me.

"No! Stop! I'm sorry! I promise I'll never leave again, just let me go! Let me go! I'm sorry! Stop! Help! Please!" I continue to yell out, looking at the door, watching intensely, waiting for it to open but my screams fall on deaf ears.

The shackles continue to shake violently as I continue to struggle against them, wishing they would magically shake off of me.

My throat burns from screaming and I know the music out there is too loud for anyone to hear me, but I'm yearning for a miracle.

A birthday miracle.

"Don't worry, I know you'll never do it again. Your boss told me to make sure of that," he says in an unpleasant tone.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with you. It's been a long time since I've been able to be active. Get ready, lovely," he expresses in a repelling tone as he commences to unbuckle his pants.

I kick my legs out and scream at the top of my lungs for help; apologies and pleas.

"I won't go out again! I'm sorry, just let me go! Leave me alone! Get away!" I shriek, but my shrieks shrink down to whimpers.

No one is gonna help? As usual.

"I can't do that, lovely," he whispers in a sultry voice.

"No," my whimpers come out as shaky as my breath, as I continue to thrash, trying to get away from him.

Every part of me is shaking; seeking to get away from here. My heart is beating too fast for my brain to comprehend, and my lips are quivering to the point where I can't even speak properly.

For once, someone please answer my cry.

Presently, daytime:

Narrator's POV:

"I promise I won't do it," she mutters as tears, unknowingly, flow down her cheeks and into the pillow.