Based on a true story
Chapter 4
The morning sun pierced through the thin curtains, casting lines of light across the small room. Lila stirred, the baby cooing softly in her arms. She had barely slept; her mind raced with thoughts of the future.
I can't stay here forever. I have to do something. For her. For me.
Her mother entered quietly, carrying a steaming bowl of porridge. "Eat," she said softly, placing it on the table. "You'll need strength."
Lila nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Breakfast felt heavy in her stomach, yet she forced herself to eat. Every bite reminded her that she had to keep moving forward.
---
Later that day, she walked through the narrow streets of the neighborhood, her daughter strapped to her back. The air smelled of smoke and dust; children's laughter echoed from the alleyways. Everywhere she went, whispers followed her.
"She's still walking around with that baby?" a woman murmured to her friend.
"Seventeen and ruined. Pathetic."
"She'll never be anything."
Lila tightened the scarf around her daughter. The words stung, but she refused to show it. She had learned early that the world didn't care about explanations. Only results mattered.
She stopped in front of a small shop with a sign that read: Odd Jobs Available.
Hesitation flickered in her chest. Could she do it? Could she manage her daughter while working? But she knew she had no choice.
Inside, a middle-aged woman glanced up. "Looking for work?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"Yes… anything," Lila replied, her voice steady despite her pounding heart.
The woman nodded. "We need someone to clean, fetch supplies, and maybe run errands. You start tomorrow."
Relief and fear collided inside Lila. "Thank you," she whispered.
As she stepped outside, she whispered to her daughter, "One step at a time, my little one. One step at a time."
---
The first day of work was brutal. Lila ran from dawn until dusk, her hands raw from scrubbing floors and her legs aching from carrying heavy loads. Her daughter slept at home with her mother, but every hour away felt like a test of her strength.
That evening, as she sat on the steps outside the shop, wiping sweat from her brow, she realized something: she was doing it. She was moving forward, even if slowly.
A group of women passed by, whispering.
"Look at her. Even after everything, she still struggles to survive."
"She's trying, but will it ever be enough?"
Lila's jaw tightened. It will be enough. It has to be.
---
A few weeks later, her brothers noticed the change.
"You look stronger," her eldest brother said, handing her a cup of tea one evening. "You're not letting them break you."
"I have to try," Lila replied, staring into the steaming liquid. "I can't let the world decide my life for me. I have to fight—for her, for me."
Her mother entered silently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I see it too, Lila. You're not the same girl who cried in the dark. You're rising."
Lila smiled faintly, the first real smile in weeks.
---
But the world outside didn't get easier.
One afternoon, while running errands, Lila saw him—her brother's friend, the one who had ruined her life. He was talking to a group of men, laughing as if nothing had happened. Her blood boiled.
She turned quickly, pulling her daughter close. Her hands shook with anger and fear.
How dare he live freely while I struggle?
---
At night, she lay awake, her daughter sleeping beside her. Memories came unbidden—the locked door, his threats, the humiliation.
Her mother watched silently from the doorway. "You'll see justice," she said softly. "He won't get away forever."
"I hope so," Lila whispered. But she knew justice might take years, and she couldn't wait. She had a life to build now, and she refused to be paralyzed by the past.
---
Weeks passed. Slowly, Lila began saving every coin she earned. Even though it wasn't enough for tuition yet, she bought old textbooks and notebooks, marking the first steps toward her dream.
One day, while walking through the marketplace, she ran into an old teacher.
"Lila? Is that really you?" the woman asked, eyes wide. "I heard… about what happened. Are you… okay?"
Lila nodded, though her throat burned. "I'm surviving. Learning. Trying."
The teacher's eyes softened. "You were always brilliant. Don't let anyone tell you differently. You can still achieve so much."
Her words were a spark. For the first time, Lila felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe she wasn't completely trapped by her past.
---
But hope was fragile.
At the shop, Lila overheard coworkers gossiping about a young woman who had been abandoned by a man she trusted. They laughed cruelly, and she felt the sting of their words.
Why is the world so cruel? she wondered. Why can't anyone see the fight inside me?
Her baby stirred in her arms that night. Lila held her tightly, whispering, "I'll protect you. I promise. No one will take your happiness away."
Her mother entered, silently placing a hand on her shoulder again. "You're stronger than I imagined," she said. "But remember, even strength has limits. Don't break yourself trying to fix the world."
"I won't," Lila replied.