Chapter 1: The Day Innocence Shattered
The city pulsed with life, a heartbeat of neon lights and restless dreams. Street vendors shouted over the blare of car horns, while music from hidden clubs drifted through the air. For most, it was thrilling. For Amara, it was a battlefield.
At just fourteen, she had already learned how to look strong even when she felt anything but. Her dark eyes carried a defiance that made people believe she couldn't be broken, though she knew how fragile she really was. If they see weakness, they'll use it, she told herself every morning. It was the only rule that kept her alive in this place.
That evening, she slipped out of the cramped apartment she shared with her mother. The small space always smelled of detergent and exhaustion, filled with the weight of bills they could never quite pay. Her mother, always tired from long shifts, never asked where she went — maybe she didn't want to know.
Amara's footsteps carried her toward the city center, where glass towers kissed the sky. That was where she saw him.
His name was Adrian. Seventeen, maybe eighteen, with that dangerous smirk only city boys seemed to master. He leaned against a motorbike like he owned the street, his jacket half-zipped, his eyes sharp and playful.
"Hey," he called, spotting her hesitation. "You're new around here, right?"
Amara almost walked past him. She knew better. But his voice had a pull, smooth and certain, like he'd spoken to her long before this night. Against her better judgment, she slowed.
"Maybe," she said, lifting her chin to hide her nerves.
He grinned, stepping closer. "Relax. I don't bite… unless you ask."
She rolled her eyes, though her lips curved in the faintest smile. No one ever noticed her — not at school, not at home. But here, under the city lights, Adrian noticed. And that was enough to draw her in.
They talked for hours, about nothing and everything. His stories were bold, filled with rebellion and freedom. Amara listened, soaking in the way he made the city sound like a game instead of a trap. For once, she felt alive.
But the night turned.
What Adrian promised as adventure soon blurred into something else — touches too rough, whispers too demanding. Amara's chest tightened as she realized his words of care were nothing more than tools. She wasn't a girl to him. She was just a body in the city.
When she finally pulled away, trembling, the city lights felt harsher, mocking her for believing.
Walking home alone, her legs shook, but her head was high. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. That night carved itself into her bones, a scar she would carry forever.
From that moment on, Amara swore two things: she would never let anyone break her again, and one day, she would rise above this city that tried to swallow her whole.
Still, as the stars hid behind clouds and her mother's weary snores filled the apartment, Amara's chest ached with a truth she couldn't silence.
She still wanted love.