* The following chapters are woke of pure fiction and in no way support any form of crime, violence or abuse. Though the chapters may seem biased but are written from the view of the characters and only the characters. No personal opinions are being projected through these chapters and I do not encourage any form of crime. Please be a cautious reader and a member of society. *

Isla

"And even when you can't imagine how
How you're ever gonna find your way out
Even when you're drabbling in your doubt
Just look beyond the clouds

The sun is rising
The sun is rising
Just look beyond the clouds"

Isla sat down in her seat. She had taken the seat next to the window to get a clear view of the city she was soon going to leave. She was still clutching her passport hard because she was still scared that she might not be able to leave the hell that her life had become.

Even after his death, he was still in her mind, body and soul. She had few more scars on her body now, enough to cause suspicion in the police whether he had slipped or she had pushed him down to his death. Even though there were numerous testimonies about his notorious anger, she remained the suspect. Even though was she knew she was free of him and his torture, she still struggled with the same issue, finding her voice in the madness.

She remembered during her treatments and interrogation, she could not speak a word. Every time she tried, no sound would come out of her mouth and after some time she gave up on the whole idea.

How could she not?

After over two years of having no voice, suddenly everyone wanted to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Suddenly everyone wanted to hear her speak and yet no one was willing to understand the layers her truth held.

After two years of ignoring her screams and muffled gestures asking for help, they all now wanted to know what she had to say because her husband had died, not because they had discovered she was a victim in this case. The precinct was making a case against her, her husband's colleagues saw her as nothing but a criminal but no one understood why she had done what she done. No one wanted to know what she had to go through living with a monster that her husband was. All everyone was concerned about was that how the celebrated detective died, not how she survived living a nightmare she was stuck in.

She had her freedom to speak and make a statement but she didn't find one person who was willing to listen to what she had to say. So, she had decided to stay say nothing. She couldn't find a voice that was strong enough to make them understand.

But then he came from somewhere, the hedonist. He came and suddenly everyone was listening. He had seen her so even she let him speak and he got her out. It was funny really, how easily everyone was convinced by his words but not with the evidence there was in the house.

In the court when he gave his testimony, he didn't look at her once. When the public prosecutor asked him to face her, he replied by saying that he couldn't, because all the things she had seen and suffered. He couldn't look at her and not feel guilty for not be able to help her in time.

But she did look at him. She looked at him and saw more than she had imagined him to be. She was right in calling him her friend. His eyes, even when though they were not looking at her, hid the concerns she wished someone had shown towards her. His words were measured and spoken with care so that they don't remind her of her haunting experience. It was then she wished she had a chance to meet him under different circumstances, but she didn't. So, she sent him a small gift and wished him good luck before leaving the city.

She was free yet she stained with all the experiences she had. Even in the plane, a few people who recognised her were speaking softly and gossiping about how they think she had killed her husband. She clutched her passport and purse tightly again. She just wanted to hide.

When the plane began taxing on the runway, she could feel her heart beat rise and when it increased its speed, it caused her to jolt out of her seat. She could feel herself hyperventilating. It reminded her those times when her husband used to knock on the doors while she hid in the bathroom. He would knock so hard that she used to be scared that he might break the door. When she looked outside the window, she saw the runway lights move fast as they crossed them. They looked exactly like how her bedroom lights looked when he used to throw her and hit her on the head.

This was a bad idea, she thought. She wanted to get out but it was too late and now-

A small warm hand held her sweating palm and broke her chain of thoughts. She hadn't noticed the small girl sitting next to her. She looked at her and smiled. Then she pulled out a pair of headphones from her mother's bag. She told her that her father had given them to her to help her relax because she was also afraid of flying. She gently put them on and played a song. The girl's mother reassuringly smiled and offered some water.

As the plane took off, Isla heard the words, the sun is rising. The city began disappearing beneath them and so did her woes.

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So here it is guys, the last chapter of the book. I feel like I am going to cry. This book was so close to my heart (actually every book I write is close to my heart). I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter. In this chapter we see how one Isla's life becomes after she kills her husband. She still continues to feel her voice being subdued by the patriarchal society we all live in and though people knew she was a victim, they were more interested in her husband's death than her own story.

I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

Keep reading for the epilogue.

Love,

Alice.

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