TALIA'S POV
“Time up,” I muttered under my breath as the large clock in the empty hallway banged. I made my way towards the front exit, the heavy thud of my feet as they hit the ground, loud and clear.
I only had a few minutes before the front exit into the asylum was locked shut.
I reached the fence, my hands grasping at the rusted metal, the jagged ends biting into my skin. With determination, I hoisted myself over, ignoring the pain.
Once on the other side, I stumbled onto the uneven ground. I took a moment to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I scanned the darkness for any signs of pursuit.
But there was only silence, broken only by the distant wail of sirens. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—I was free, at least for now.
After escaping the asylum, my thoughts were scattered, my mind still reeling from two years of confinement. The world outside seemed both familiar and foreign as I navigated the unfamiliar streets, my senses dulled by the years spent behind those walls.
With Emily as my only hope, I forged ahead, determined to find her despite the fog that clouded my thoughts. Each step felt like a struggle, my movements sluggish and uncertain. I stumbled along, stopping to ask passersby for directions.
I knocked on the familiar door to Emily's apartment, my best friend. Emily was the friend everyone wished for—loyal, dependable, and always there when I needed her most. I remember the countless times she stayed up with me until the early hours of the morning, listening to my worries and offering words of comfort. And even in the asylum, she worked for my release.
The door opened, but instead of the familiar face of Emily, I was greeted with the face of the person who was the reason I had been locked up in an asylum.
Micheal. That was the only person I had ever cared about. My mind went back to the night everything went downhill as his eyes locked with mine.
I remembered returning from work that day, the familiar sight of my suitcase by the exit struck me as odd, out of place in our cozy apartment. It sat there like a silent accusation, waiting for my attention.
Confusion knotted my stomach as I stepped inside, expecting to find Michael's warm smile greeting me. Instead, his expression was cold, distant, and the words he uttered next cut through the air like a knife.
“We can't do this anymore. I want a breakup,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
My heart stuttered, disbelief flooding my senses. This couldn't be real. We were supposed to be happy, planning for our future together, anticipating our baby. But there was no warmth in Michael's eyes, only a hardness I didn't recognize.
“What do you mean?” I laughed, denial clear in my voice as I tried to grasp what was happening.
“I'm tired of you. You're not the type of woman I want anymore. And God, the stretch marks on your stomach are disgusting, Talia,” Michael scoffed, disdain dripping from his words as he made his way to the table, pouring himself a cup of vodka.
As the weight of his words settled over me, I felt a surge of anger, of betrayal. How could he turn on me like this? How could he reject everything we had built together?
The room spun around me, the air thick with tension. When Michael ordered me to leave, to get rid of the pregnancy as if it were nothing, I felt a primal rage ignite within me.
Before I knew it, I was lashing out, my hands stained with blood, my screams echoing in the empty apartment. It was a blur, a nightmare I couldn't wake up from, until the police arrived to drag me away.
The chilly night air stung my cheeks, and only one question lingered on my mind... What was he doing here? My heart sank to my stomach, knots forming in my throat as I staggered back, away from the front porch.
Micheal seemed surprised, not expecting to see me. “Aren't you supposed to be in the mental asylum? What are you doing here at this time of the night?” His questions came like rapid-fire, mirroring my surprise.
The cry of a child echoed from inside the house, and my brow furrowed, confused. Did Emily have a visitor?
I stood frozen, unsure how to respond to Micheal's unexpected appearance and the mysterious sound coming from the house. As panic tightened its grip around my chest, I strained to make sense of the situation.
“Honey, who's there?” The familiar voice of Emily reached us, breaking the tense silence. My mind raced, connecting the dots in a dizzying whirl of realization.
As Emily peeped from the front door, a glass cup slipped from her hand, crashing to the floor. The pieces scattered around us.
’T… Ta… Talia?” Emily stuttered, her voice coming out in a whisper, barely audible over the biting cold that engulfed me.
“What is he doing here, Emily? What's going on?” I questioned, my mind racing with nagging thoughts that refused to be silenced. There had to be a reasonable explanation for everything that was happening.
“I… I can explain, Talia. I wasn't expecting you here. It's not what it looks like,” Emily rushed to explain, her words tumbling out in a frantic stream.
“Mommy, daddy, it's cold inside,” a little kid peeped from in-between Emily's and Michael's frame, her eyes boring at me curiously, and a knife sliced through my heart, severing what little pieces I had left.
“Go inside,” Emily's eyes widened as she hurriedly ushered the curious child back into the house, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder as she closed the door behind them. Micheal joined her on the porch, his expression tight with tension.
“Is that your child, Emily?” I questioned, my voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside me.
“You should go, Talia. You have no right to question us,” Micheal interjected sharply, cutting off any chance for Emily to respond. I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at his dismissive tone.
“Alright, I want my keys, my papers, and my property. I need those papers; I'll leave right now,” I stated, meeting Micheal's gaze with a mix of hurt and betrayal.
“You really think we're going to give you anything back? The plan was for you to rot in that asylum. I don't know how you got out, but you're definitely going back in there, Talia,” Micheal threatened, taking a step closer with an edge of hostility in his voice.
“Emily, you knew about all of this? I trusted you, I told you everything, God!” I staggered backwards, settling onto the floor as my legs gave up underneath me.
“Oh please, spare me the petty sermon you're about to start,” Emily scoffed as she walked towards me, the sorry expression on her face gone. It was replaced with something else.
“You should be happy I let you have him for those two years. I mean, you were so dumb not to know he was married. I'm his wife Talia, and we've been married long before you met him”
“Wait, married?” My voice cracked with disbelief as Emily's words hit me as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over me. The shock of betrayal cut through me, leaving me reeling.
Emily's laughter echoed around me, cold and mocking. “Oh, Talia, you really are clueless, aren't you? Micheal and I have been married for years. You were just his little side project to get rich,”
The truth slammed into me with brutal force. How could I have been so blind?
As the weight of Emily's betrayer settled over me, anger surged through my veins, replacing the shock with a burning desire for vengeance. I had been used, manipulated, and discarded like trash, and I vowed at that moment to make Emily and Micheal pay for their betrayal.
But before I could unleash the storm of emotions raging inside me, Emily's cruel words cut through the air once more. “You should be grateful I let you have him for those two years.” Each syllable of her words dripped with venomous contempt.
With a surge of defiance, I pushed myself to my feet, my fists clenched at my sides. “You're despicable, Emily. I trusted you, and you betrayed me in the worst possible way. But mark my words, I won't let you get away with this. You and Micheal will pay for what you've done.”
“What can you do?” Emily's gaze bore into mine. “Look at you, you've lost everything, and by the time the asylum notifies the police about your escape, I would file a restraining order complaint against you,” Emily sneered, her tone dripping with contempt as she casually flicked imaginary dust from her nails.
I squared my shoulders, refusing to back down. “What can I do? How about I tell Michael what you did? How about I tell Michael the truth?” I advanced towards Emily, my voice laced with a taunting edge. “How about I tell Michael that you…”
Before I could finish my sentence, Emily's hand shot out, covering my mouth with a sudden, forceful slap. Her eyes blazed with fury and a hint of fear as she silenced me.
