2 The Very Beginning

The atmosphere was heavy with an impending rainfall, a warning I foolishly dismissed, swayed by the sunny forecast that morning.

"Alora," that's what they call me - a woman who defies conventional wisdom and follows her own instincts, consequences be damned. Little did I know that my defiance would one day lead me into trouble, big, big trouble that almost got me killed but did a good job in ruining my life.

As the dark clouds gathered above, people around me rummaged through their bags, searching for umbrellas. I, on the other hand, had none, and stubbornly refused to join the umbrella-wielding crowd.

Despite the recent string of inaccurate weather forecasts, I held onto a glimmer of hope that things would be different this time. I chuckled to myself, recalling the infamous TV forecaster, Clarkson Robinson, who had become the subject of internet mockery after predicting a day of unending sunshine. It took merely two minutes for the sky to open up, drenching everything in sight. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of satisfaction, convinced that even fate had a way of humbling my deceitful ex. Foolish, nothing but foolish is what he is. I wickedly grinned while recalling the comments I left on his Instagram post, no one messes with me and have a happily ever-after.

Leaving work earlier than usual, I made a detour to the pharmacy to pick up my grandmother's medication. That stubborn woman refused to heed my advice and move in with me, although my humble abode was a haven any independent woman would cherish.

Visiting my grandmother's house every weekend had become a tradition I cherished, rain or shine. Today was no exception.

As I made my way towards her home, the rain intensified. Instead of driving, I followed my gut instinct and opted for the bus, as I often did. Some might call me crazy or peculiar, but I prefer to think of myself as uniquely unconventional.

The downpour was relentless, each raindrop feeling like a thousand needles. Seeking shelter, I rushed into the building, not just any building, but the building my grandmother lived in. I exchanged a nod of gratitude with the kind-hearted security guard when he quickly granted me access and saved me from buzzing in and stating my government name.

Ascending the stairs leading to my grandmother's apartment, I couldn't help but shiver. "Balls!" I muttered, regretting my decision to forgo the convenience of the elevator. Fumbling with my keys, I nearly broke one in the stubborn lock, an unfortunate mishap narrowly averted.

"Old lady, I'm home!" I hollered upon entering.

"In the bathroom!" my grandmother's voice echoed back, tinged with irritation.

"Alright, I brought your medication. I'll head upstairs to change my drenched clothes. I got caught in..." I began to explain, only to be interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah, do whatever you like," my grandmother interjected dismissively.

Chuckling to myself, I couldn't resist a parting jab. "Try to be nice, granny. A cruel old woman would only be disliked and wallow in loneliness."

She snorted in return.

My grandmother was far from the typical sweet old lady. She possessed a fiery spirit and an unwavering stubbornness, defying the stereotypes of aging. The only giveaway to her advanced years was the gray hair adorning her head. She remained headstrong, feisty, and I didn't have to look far to see where I inherited those traits.

Without waiting for her hurtful response, I hurried upstairs, shivering uncontrollably.

As I entered my room, I let out a sneeze, exclaiming in frustration, "What?! I wasn't even in the rain that long, and now I've caught a cold. Fantastic!"

To my surprise, the room was engulfed in darkness, a bone-chilling coldness permeating the air. I shivered once again, trying to determine the source of the chilling breeze. My eyes zeroed in on the old opened window. Finding the source of the chilling breeze, I took a step forward in an attempt to close the window when my brain suddenly jerked in old knowledge. I froze! It didn't make any sense, never have I opened that window, not once.

What is going on?

Usually, the glow of the streetlights outside would cast enough illumination into my room, but today everything was pitch black. The streetlights were inexplicably out, a situation I had never encountered before.

Unease settled in as I ventured further into the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I glimpsed a fleeting shadow. My heart sank, a surge of alarm coursing through my veins. Yet, true to form, I disregarded the warning.

Taking a step back, I reached for the baseball bat positioned behind my door, my hands trembling with both fear and anticipation. Against all rational thinking, I pressed on, deeper into the room. Deep down, I knew it was a foolish act, but my stubbornness refused to let me turn and flee.

"Alright, this isn't funny anymore, grandma," I called out, frustration seeping into my voice. It wasn't the first time my golden-aged prankster of a grandmother had played tricks on me. But now, it seemed she truly needed help, her behavior becoming increasingly erratic.

"Whoever you are, show yourself now! Lemme warn you, I'm really skilled...."

An iron grip suddenly seized me, cutting off my words and constricting my throat.

My mind scrambled, desperately trying to summon the surge of adrenaline needed for self-defense. But it eluded me, and I found myself powerless, even my karate training rendered useless.

Gasping for breath, I fought against the vice-like grip, even resorting to biting my assailant. Yet, nothing seemed to loosen his hold.

Oh, God!

In that moment of desperation, tears cascaded down my face, falling hot and heavy upon his hand. Miraculously, his grip loosened, and I seized the opportunity, wrenching myself free from his grasp.

RUN! My mind screamed.