25th January 2025
Saturday - 3 a.m

Dear Diary,

For the last time,

Hello. It's me, Elora.
I turned 27 yesterday. Been 3 years since I last wrote to you. This diary, you, maybe an inanimate object, but you don't realise you're the last who holds a close place to my heart. You've been my outlet since I turned 16 and you've been the best at that. It's foolish how I write to you as if I am speaking to a person but, I find it comforting to some extent.

It's three minutes past three a.m right now in California. I am sitting at the edge of the roof of the tallest building I could find and afford to enter at this hour. I booked a room not long ago but came here straight with only this diary and a pen in my hands. The night sky is starry and the roof is blanketed with a likeable silence far above the bustling street downside. I am on the 16th floor from the ground. The wind is chilly but I can't seem to feel anything.

What I am about to do should make me nervous and anxious. It should make my heart beat rapidly, letting the blood rush through my veins at an abnormal speed, pushing me into a state of panic.
Yet, I am surprisingly calm.

Thinking back to the 27 years, it's difficult to point out how many happy memories and how many of the dejected ones should I recount. It's totally surreal how I managed to survive through these last two years.

In the July of the year 2023, I was married. He was someone I met at the strip club. We met in November of 2022 and dated for six months after that. It was not very romantic. Just the casual dating. We went to restaurants for dinner, talked perfunctorily, then ended up in bed after each and every date. It went on for such till those dating months. After that, we both realised we had it in us and could make it through the rest of the life. I didn't have any over-the-moon expectations. He didn't seem to mind me being a stripper previously, though asked me to quit the work after marriage. Naturally, I did.

It went good until the next two months. But then hit the storm which could've been the most awaited one in my life. He was a sick bastard. I discovered he cheated on me and even brought a women back, along with a child.

The man wanted me to be okay with that thing and expected me to play a happy family with his mistress and her kid. I couldn't do that. And when I denied, I was suppressed by being beaten up. But, that was only the start.

Then followed many more torturing nights. He used to tie me up and beat me to his heart's content. Then he and his mistress would have sex infront of me and forced me to see it. And if I didn't, they caused cigarette burns on my skin, used the means of extreme violence. I was forced into a corner those times. I tried escaping but failed every time. After the third attempt to escape, he permanently closed me off in a room with only a small window at the top for the air, and no lights.

I was not offered food for a week after that. When I finally collapsed, he brought back a doctor and started giving me meals once a day. But he told me I will have to 'earn' the meal for myself.
That was the time I discovered, he recieves mental pleasure seeing me being tortured and begging for his mercy. He enjoyed watching the ciggarete burns and belt marks on my skin which was caused by him. He felt satisfied when he left 'his marks' on my body. He was immensely pleased after 'treating my beauty the way it deserved'.

I was not offered to wear any clothes in the room. I was forced to wear a dog chain around my neck and bark whenever he wanted me to. I was told to do as he pleases, and only then will I get my meals. If he was happy, he would even 'reward' me by treating my wounds and if he wasn't, he would 'add to my beautiful marks'.

He caused several wounds and bruises on my body except my face. Because he liked my face and wanted it to be flawless. He never let me out of that confinement. I knew I could do nothing but wait for my death.

Once, he said he wanted me to give birth to a daughter for him as beautiful as myself. That statement of his, shivered me to the core. I started imagining various scenes where he would show his cruelty to the innocent life. No. I couldn't let that happen.

I refused, but then after, I was raped for hours by him. I eventually fainted due to his brutality and woke up to a room with bright lights. It was a hospital. I was astonished. After being locked up in a dark room for an entire year, I was suddenly pushed in here. It was like seeing the world for the first time. I was alone in the room for a few moments, before a nurse came in and informed me that I was preganant. It had already been 5 weeks.

I was stunned. I was totally speechless. I didn't knew what should have I done. I couldn't understand what she told next, because my vision suddenly went blank and I fell unconscious. I vaguely heard her shouting out something about low blood pressure before it all went black.

When I revived my consciousness again, I was still in the same ward. Everything was similar. I was even used to the light around me. This time, another nurse came in and told me that I was knocked out due to low blood pressure for last 5 days and that I shouldn't let anything affect my emotions anymore otherwise I could lose my baby.

A bitter smile made it's appearance on my face. I didn't want this baby. Even though he or she had done nothing to deserve to be hated by it's mother, but I still hated this baby. This was a baby which I never wanted, and neither will I want it. Innocent or not, it will eventually fall into the hands of it's creator and will be destroyed for life. That man will never let it have a normal life. It's mother didn't have a normal life either, no doubt it will suffer throughout.

When I asked the nurse how I came to the hospital, she was silent for a moment before she said a man brought me here that claimed to be my 'husband'. I was speaking while unconscious and was asking for help. Asking to be saved, to which the doctor was suspicious.
So, the man was taken away by the police after the doctor operating on me found many bruises on my body and reported it to the officials. She said the police found chains, whips and many other suspicious materials at 'my home' and took away 'my husband' and his mistress. But since they didn't have any concrete evidence against them, they both will be free after 6 months. Till the time, I was allowed to stay in the hospital.

I couldn't write down my feelings of that moment. It was very conflicting. I didn't knew what to feel or expect. For the first, I couldn't believe I was finally free from his clutches after so long. But then again, it was still temporary. And I know he will come after me the moment he will be released from the prison. I didn't knew what to do till the time. I didn't have any family to seek help from, neither did I have anyone I know in this city. I didn't have any home to return to, neither did I have any money to live off on myself. I didn't have any resources to start over again, neither did I have the will to do it.

I was totally lost. It was the most difficult stage of my life. I didn't have any hope. I didn't even knew what will I do with the baby in my stomach or how will I survive if the man found me and the baby again. After that, I went into depression for the next few months. I lost all of the hope and courage I had and became clueless of what should be done.

The hospital arranged a psychiatrist for me, after seeing my condition. But, that didn't work out. I started taking drugs again. I got it from the compounder who managed the medicinal arrangements in the hospital. I knew it will have negative impact on the baby, but I didn't care. I was totally on the wrong track again. And this time, there was no way to revive myself. I never allowed the doctor to have my blood test in fear of being discovered taking drugs.
I was told about the gender of my baby after a few months. It was a girl. Just like her father wanted.

It was until yesterday, when I recieved a note on my bed in the hospital when I came back after lunch from the hospital canteen.

It read - "You've had enough happy days sweetheart, now it's time to return to your hubby. Wait for me obediently. I will take you and our baby soon."

I shivered from the imapact of the contents written in it and my breathing became ultimately abnormal. I lost my balance and fell down, to which the people outside heard my voice and called the doctor. When he did a check up on me, he instantly found the traces of drug and said he need to do an ultrasound to know the condition of the baby. I am already 9 months pregnant. Due for day after tommorow. It was extremely critical.

But before they could do that, I ran away.
And here I am, finally. After two hours of watching the city from here, found the courage to write it all in the diary.

I am sorry.

I am really sorry.

Maybe to the baby to whom I am going to let go of.
Maybe to my younger self who once said that she had hope that everything will be alright.
Maybe to my past self who struggled with all her might to survive, without knowing what her goal is.
Or rather, maybe to the one who will find my diary after I am going to jump down from the roof.

Even though you are not born yet, I sincerely want to apologize to you baby. Mommy loves you a lot. How could she not? But unfortunately, she couldn't give you all that you deserve. She can't let you have a chance to see this world. I am sorry baby. This world will never treat you well. It will never let you have your happy ending. At least it never let your mommy have it. Even if you have still survived after I am gone, then I want you to know that God is the one who wants you to be here. Because I can't bear to let you go through what I have been through, it's the God who is your protector.

I am sorry baby. I am.