There are rules to survive in the hell house of Agostini. Rules that will probably keep you safe. Safe from the people of the house itself.

Louisa had explained to me very carefully and very clearly. Follow these rules, I'll survive and if I don't, I'll be a goner.

One. Stay away from the men in suits and never at look them in the eye. They scream danger and power. Stay out of their way and they'll stay away from yours. It's that simple. But if you get into their way or business, you'll never see the next morning.

Two. Always do what you are told.

And I also have the habit of not doing what you are told to do so Louisa and Rylie took me under their care and taught me what they have been doing for years; Housekeeping. Even though Louisa is in charge of everything, she always stays with us and by us, I mean the cooks, cleaners, washers, gardeners, waiters and the rest of the staff.

Three. If you don't see a particular person for over a week, you do not ask where that person is and carry on with your work. In short, it means that person is...dead.

When Louisa said that these people were dangerous, I hadn't got the clue of how dangerous till I had got the task of cleaning the floor which was full of blood.

I had to clean the floor of the dining room then clean my own toilet in which I had puked over several times. Rylie took care of me each time and I have been very grateful to her.

Four. Do not interact with anybody except the staff and never ask about anybody's business.

The last and the most important rule of all.

Do not ever ask anybody about going back home.

I laughed at this rule. Louisa and Rylie kept looking at me in confusion and they brushed it off, probably thinking that I will come to my senses soon.

At the age of twenty three, I still haven't come to my senses.

Not a day goes by where I not think of my parents, my friends and my ambitions. This place is not my home. It never has and it never will be.

"Hey Rylie." I greeted her as she entered the kitchen with an empty tray.

She grinned at me and kept the tray on the sink full dirty dishes.

Dishes that I am washing.

Can you believe it? Me, the girl who was supposed to be graduated college by now and probably working at some job so that she could start saving money to open her restaurant, is cleaning the dirty dishes in a kitchen full of illegal immigrants.

I just love the way of how life works!

She took out a small notepad from her apron along with a pen and quickly scribbled something on it then showed it to me.

'We are free in the evening.'

I learnt that Rylie is mute on the day I met her. She wasn't born mute, she became mute when she was brought here.

Long story short, she refused to suck a certain anatomy of a drunk man months before I came here so the man cut her tongue off.

These people are monsters.

She writes that she doesn't regret anything. At least nobody will now force her to do some sucking now. She doesn't want to learn the sign language too. Never told me why, but I can guess that she loves to write. She always carries a notepad and a few pens everywhere with her. She can still speak a few words but she refuses to open her mouth.

"That's good. I can use the evening to continue cutti—" I stopped abruptly when I realised what I was about say then quickly covered it by saying, "—cutting my hair. My hair."

Rylie simply shook her head and wrote, 'You should really watch your mouth'

I chuckled. "I try to. By the way, I need new scissors for it. The old ones have worn out. My hair is too thick. It won't cut with the old ones anymore."

Rylie rolled her eyes and scribbled, 'Be careful. There are cameras here'

I smirked when I read it. "Aye, aye Captain."

I watch her walk away from the kitchen and I continued washing the dishes.

I have been stuck in this hell house for almost seven years and I am not planning to stay here for a long time. The men are cruel, I have no future here and who knows? Maybe I won't be able to see the next morning.

I close the tap and wipe my hands off from the apron.

I miss everybody. My parents, my friends, my non existent brother and the time we used to spend together. Seven years is a very long time and the only thing I hope is that they haven't given up on me and they are still searching for me.

I know that they won't have the slightest clue that I'm not in the States anymore so I do what had been planning to do for years.

In these past years, I have been on every floor, every room, every corner of this hell house only to mop the floors. The study room, the basement, the master bedroom and the rest of the rooms. Of course I have been there when no member of the Agostini is in the room and it's just us, the housekeepers.

I look around and see that there's only me and Michael, the chef are left in the kitchen then I look up at the CCTV camera high up in the corner and look at the time.

It's almost evening. That's good.

"Hey Michael, can you get me another dishwashing liquid while I clean up the counter for you? This one is almost finished." I grinned sheepishly as shook the empty bottle in my hand.

He grunted in response and went to another corner of the extra large kitchen to fetch me the liquid.

I kept grinning as I made my way to the counter and started wiping it with my back facing the camera.

My smile died down when my hands touched the sharp knife and quickly I covered it with the cloth I am using to wipe the counter then slipped it inside my apron pocket.

I just hope that this one would be the last...

"Here," Michael slammed the bottle on the counter and gave me a bored look. "Use it wisely."

"Of course!" I chirped and gave him a big smile.

Then I went back to the sink with a light heart and with the same ray of hope in me whenever I realised that I was only a few steps away from my freedom after I steal a knife from the kitchen.

The housekeeping staff have a separate corner in the house where everybody live with their roommates. Lucky for me, I happen to reside in the first floor which is not that high from the ground.

A jump from the window would only result in few cuts and scratches. I can survive that but I can't survive in this house for long.

"Hello, Rylie." I greeted my roommate again as I entered.

She gave me a bored look and showed me her notepad.

'Got your scissors?'

I grinned wickedly as I swiftly pulled out the knife from my pocket. "Wanna ask me something else?"

She turned the page. 'You'll be in trouble. This is not right!'

I sighed in exhaustion. "You have it all prepared in that little book of yours, don't you?"

She nodded in response. 'You can still stop this and live by the rules.'

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. "We both know that this is not living. We are barely surviving in fear. I choose my life. I choose my freedom. You can continue your living in fear but, I'm going to escape from this nightmare house and enjoy the taste of my freedom."

She yawned like a cat and simply turned the page. 'Enjoy it while it lasts. Try not to make much noise.'

"You can still join me."

'I rather not. I value my sleep.'

I rolled my eyes. "You know what I am going to say next, right? Just turn the page and finish it off."

'Try to accept this life, Amy because I did. If something bad happens after you jump, you will not be able to enjoy the little things we get here. I care for you.'

I sighed deeply and crawled up to her bed. I took the notepad from her hands and gently held her face, staring deep into those innocent brown doe eyes. "I know that you are scared for me. Even if something bad happens after I jump, I'll be happy because I tried. I tried to go back to my family who have been searching me for years. I still love them even though they didn't made enough time for me. After all, they are my family."

Rylie did what she had been doing for months. She took out two ear plugs from her pocket and inserted them. I laughed when she motioned me to leave her bed and switched off her lamp.

I tiptoed my way to the window of my freedom and started cutting the upper corner of the metal bars with the help of the knife I stole for the fiftieth time in three years.

No matter how long it takes to break all four sides of the bar, I will continue to wait because each stroke, each cut and each crack was one step closer to my freedom.

The same freedom which I had lost when I woke up here.

Author's note:

Sorry for the time skip but I'm telling you all, it's going to get 'jumpy' from here.😂

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