Day 41 – Silence Before the Storm
The basement was darker than ever. The chains were tighter, the air colder. Her body was a battlefield of cuts, burns, and bruises, each one a wound that screamed for release. But there was no release.
She had stopped screaming.
Her voice was gone, stolen by pain and despair. The bullies noticed her silence, but it only made them angrier. They wanted her cries. They wanted the music of her suffering.
So they tried harder. Blades traced her skin. Hot metal kissed her arms. Fists and boots rained down.
Still, she didn't scream.
She closed her eyes and let her mind drift far from the room. She imagined her brother standing tall, his face burning with determination. She imagined his arms wrapping around her, pulling her from this place.
Her silence was no longer surrender. It was defiance. It was her last weapon.
Day 42 – The Puppet Show
They tied her upright to a chair, her arms spread, her body limp like a puppet with its strings cut.
"Dance for us again," one of them sneered. "Make us laugh."
But she couldn't move. Her body refused.
So they moved her themselves — yanking her arms, pushing her head, slapping her until her face turned red. They made her into a grotesque puppet, laughing as her head bobbed with each blow.
Her tears fell silently, soaking the floor. Her pride was gone, her strength fading, but her heart still whispered: Brother… I'm waiting…
Day 43 – The Death Rehearsal
That morning, they dug a shallow hole behind the house. She saw it from the basement window, a rectangle of dirt carved into the earth. Her breath caught.
It was her grave.
They brought her outside, dragging her through the yard like a sack of meat. The sunlight was blinding after so many weeks in darkness. She tried to lift her face toward it, to feel its warmth one last time.
They laughed as they forced her to lie in the hole, throwing dirt onto her legs, her chest, her face. She gasped for air, choking on soil.
"Practice," one of them said. "So you'll be ready tomorrow."
They pulled her out, coughing and gagging, her skin smeared with dirt. She knew now — they were planning it. Her end was near.
That night, chained in the basement, she whispered a prayer to the stars she could not see.
"Brother, if you come tomorrow… you might still find me alive. Please… hurry."
Day 44 – The End
The day began with laughter. The boys were in high spirits, drunk on their power. They didn't fear the law. They didn't fear God. They didn't fear consequences. They believed themselves untouchable.
They dragged her out once more, her body too weak to resist. She stumbled, fell, was yanked back to her feet. The dirt hole waited, patient, silent.
She looked at it calmly. Death no longer frightened her. What frightened her was being forgotten.
They mocked her, spat on her, kicked her ribs until she felt bones snap. She did not cry. She did not beg.
Finally, one of them pulled a rope tight around her throat. Her body convulsed, fighting for breath, eyes bulging with terror.
As the world closed in, she thought of one thing, one person.
Her brother.
She saw his face in her mind, fierce and unyielding. She heard his voice promising her safety. She felt his hand reaching for hers.
Her lips formed his name one last time.
And then everything went black
Aftermath
The bullies stood over her lifeless body, panting, sweat dripping from their foreheads. One of them laughed nervously.
"It's done. She's gone."
They buried her in the shallow hole, covering her with dirt until no trace remained. The earth swallowed her whole.
To them, it was over. Just another cruel game finished.
But they were wrong.
Because far away, her brother's heart burned with fire. And when he learned what had been done, when he uncovered the truth, he would unleash a storm so brutal, so unstoppable, that their laughter would be the last sound they ever made.
Her death was not the end.
It was the