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Part 4: The Hell

It was a different kind of hell.

One she didnā€™t know what she had done to deserve.

Every day she would wake up, believing that it would be the last. Either she would find a way to freedom or she would die. It was disturbing how comforting both options had come to be. Moreover, she knew the second one was mostly like the one that was planned for her.

She didnā€™t mind anymore. Anything would be better than this. To have to walk inside a room full with mirrors to show her exactly what she had become.

***

He thought that his pity for this particular girl was because he was tired of his own destiny.

No.

Destiny was a positive word. Damnation was more like it.

He knew what his mistake was and if he could reverse time, he would take it back; his sympathy for that Devil had caused him dearly. He should have known better than to make the same mistake. Yet, as he saw the girl bearing her suffering so much differently than the ones before her, the thought that he could put an end to it if he wanted to, kept nagging him, stealing his sleep.

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