Married to my Downfall

The night was suffocatingly dark, a thick shroud of blackness hanging over the empty streets of California. Rain pummeled down in relentless sheets, battering the pavement and casting a chilling, oppressive weight upon the scene.

Only two beams of light pierced through the inky void, twin headlights slicing through the downpour as a lone car sped recklessly through the deserted avenues.

The rain smeared against the windshield, the wipers working furiously to maintain a semblance of visibility.

Inside the car, the atmosphere was no less tumultuous. The driver, a woman, her hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, cast a fearful glance at the side mirror.

Her heart skipped a beat, then raced as she spotted the sleek, black car tailing her, mirroring her every move. It was gaining on her, matching her frantic pace with an ease that sent cold dread trickling down her spine.

Panic twisted her features as she pressed her foot harder on the gas pedal, the engine roaring in protest as the car surged forward.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, each one heavier than the last as she tried to calm herself. A futile effort. With a trembling hand, she reached down to her belly, feeling the life growing within her.

She had to protect it, no matter what. But just as the thought crossed her mind, a violent jolt rocked the car, a thudding impact from behind that sent her heart leaping into her throat.

The black car had caught up, ramming into her with a force that nearly sent her careening off the road.

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide with terror as she saw the ominous vehicle looming closer, its presence a menacing shadow in the storm.

Desperation seized her. She pressed the pedal to the floor, pushing the car to its limits, but the black car was relentless, closing the gap between them with a terrifying inevitability.

A quick glance at the dashboard sent another wave of fear crashing over her. The fuel gauge was blinking angrily, a glaring red warning that her tank was nearly empty.

"God, why is this happening to me?" she whispered, her voice tight with fear and frustration. "What did I do to deserve this?" Her voice cracked, betraying the tears welling up in her eyes.

Frantically, she fumbled for her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed her husband's number. But before she could bring the phone to her ear, another jarring impact struck the car, the

force of it knocking the device from her grasp.

The car swerved violently, her control slipping as it began to slow down, its power draining away with the last drops of fuel.

With a surge of adrenaline, she snatched up the phone from the floor, her thoughts racing. In a desperate move, she switched off the car, hoping to deceive her pursuer into thinking she was out of commission.

But as she reached for the door handle, another brutal collision from behind sent her car flying. The world spun in a sickening blur of motion and noise as the car tumbled over itself, the metal screeching and glass shattering around her.

When the car finally came to a rest, upside down and crumpled, there was a suffocating silence, broken only by the steady drumming of rain on twisted metal.

Inside the wreckage, there was a faint stir, followed by a low, pained wail. Slowly, painfully, the woman moved, her body aching from the impact.

Blood trickled from a gash on her forehead, staining her vision a murky red. Her left hand throbbed with pain, a sharp, searing ache that made her wince.

She reached up with her good hand, fumbling in the dark until her fingers found the door handle. With a groan of effort, she pushed it open, collapsing onto the wet pavement, the cool rain mingling with the warm blood on her skin.

Her phone was still clutched tightly in her hand, a lifeline to the world beyond the storm. With labored breaths.

The black car had driven on, disappearing into the night as if it had never been there, leaving her broken and alone in the wreckage. But the woman refused to give in.

With a fierce determination born of desperation, she struggled to her feet, her hand cradling her belly protectively. She had to survive this, for both of them. She had to keep going, no matter what.

The pain in her stomach was unbearable, a searing agony that twisted and knotted within her. Diara gasped for breath, each inhale sharp and painful, her vision blurring as she looked down at her legs.

Blood was pooling beneath her, the crimson stain spreading with a frightening speed. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone, her mind a frantic whirl of fear and desperation.

She needed to call her husband—he would know what to do, he would come and save her.

With shaking fingers, she dialed his number, pressing the phone to her ear, willing him to pick up. The ringing seemed to stretch on forever, each unanswered tone amplifying the dread building in her chest.

Finally, the call connected, but instead of the concerned voice she so desperately needed to hear, there was laughter—light, carefree, and completely at odds with the hell she was living through.

Then, his voice came through, cold and distant, a knife twisting in the wound already tearing her apart. "Stop calling. I'm busy." The line went dead with a finality that sent a shiver down her spine.

Diara stared at the phone in disbelief, the tears she had been holding back now spilling freely down her cheeks.

She was alone. Completely, utterly alone. The realization hit her like a physical blow, the sobs wracking her body as she doubled over, clutching her stomach in agony.

She had been holding on for quite a time but this was the last straw he had literally stabbed her right in the heart.

The pain, the fear, the betrayal—it was all too much, overwhelming her until she felt like she was drowning in it.

But through the haze of pain and sorrow, something inside her snapped. Diara wiped the tears from her eyes with a fierce swipe, her hand instinctively moving to cradle her belly.

She wasn't just fighting for herself—she was fighting for her baby. With renewed determination, she scrolled through her contacts and found her friend's name, the one person she knew she could trust.

The phone barely rang before it was answered, her friend's voice filled with concern. "Diara? Why are you crying? Are you okay? What's happening?"

Diara's resolve crumbled as soon as she heard the voice, the sobs she had been trying to suppress breaking free once more. "Save my baby," she choked out, her voice trembling with fear. "Please, save my baby."

Her friend's voice was sharp with worry now, urgency replacing the initial concern. "What happened? Where are you? I'm coming to get you!"

Diara tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come, the pain too overwhelming. Instead, she ended the call and quickly sent her live location, praying her friend would reach her in time.

She clutched her stomach tightly, trying to hold on, but the pain was too much. Her vision darkened, her strength ebbing away as the blood continued to pour from her.

The world around her began to fade, the edges of her consciousness blurring into nothingness. The only thought that remained, the one thing she clung to as the darkness closed in, was her baby. "Save my baby," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.