chapter one
It was 2 p.m. on a quiet afternoon when the prime minister announced the lockdown. Restrictions were put in place to stop the spread of Covid-19. My family groaned in annoyance—we hated the idea of being confined to our home, unable to work or go out as we pleased. But deep down, I was quietly relieved. My body craved rest after years of relentless labour.
I am 19 years old. I have been working since I was 15 to help my mother pay the rent and bills. My sisters did the same, each of us contributing to keeping our family afloat. Growing up, life wasn’t easy, but we were grateful to have a roof over our heads, even if it meant constant sacrifice.
Our father had passed away six years ago, leaving my mother to shoulder the burden of raising five children. His death hit my elder brother Alex the hardest. Grief turned him into a slave to drugs and alcohol, and no matter how hard we tried to save him, his group of friends ensured he stayed on that path.
My eldest sister, Shirley, was our rock. She started working at the age of nine, sacrificing her childhood to help my mother care for the rest of us. Emma, my second-eldest sister, contributed too, but even with all of us working, it was never enough.
Alex, now jobless for years, was a source of constant chaos. He drained our hard-earned money to fuel his addictions, racked up debts, and caused endless damage to our home and cars. In his drug-induced state, he would punch walls, speed recklessly, and collect fines for parking violations. Half our earnings went to covering his mistakes, leaving little for ourselves.
So yes, the lockdown was a blessing in disguise for me. It gave me an excuse to rest and escape the daily grind.
I was lost in thought when my phone buzzed. It was Muk, my boyfriend.
"Hey, what's up?" I answered cheerfully, hoping to keep the conversation light.
"Who the f**k are you talking to, b***h? I’m not your f*****g mate—I’m your boyfriend!" he snapped.
Here we go again, I thought, my heart sinking. Regret washed over me. Everyone thought Muk and I were high school sweethearts, but the truth was, I wasn’t in love with him anymore. I might have been in the beginning, but that was before I got to know his true, abusive nature.
"I’m sorry, baby," I lied, trying to calm him down. "I was just excited that you called."
"I don’t give a f**k what you think!" he yelled. "Know your place, b***h. I’m your boyfriend. Don’t ever answer the phone like that again. Say ‘baby’ next time, you slut. Understand?"
I sighed, defeated. "I’m sorry," I mumbled. He hung up on me, leaving me with a heavy heart and shattered energy.
I turned to my escape—PUBG, my Favorite online game. Ironically, Muk had introduced me to it, one of the few good things he ever did. He used to play with me, but eventually, he lost interest and demanded I stop playing too. I didn’t listen. Instead, I created a secret account under a different name, one he didn’t know about.
At night, when Muk was asleep, I would log into my fantasy world. In that digital space, I had friends—people who made me feel seen and valued, unlike the real world I lived in.
As I logged into my account, a text notification from Muk popped up. I ignored it for the moment, letting myself sink into the memories of how we met.
We had gone to the same high school, where I first noticed him because of his car—a matte black Skyline that I was in love with. I messaged him to ask about it, and that conversation sparked something between us. Muk had a kind side back then. He was sweet, attentive, and nothing like the person he would later become. But the mask slipped one day at a party. He yelled at me for snatching his phone, and when I got upset and tried to walk away, he shoved me toward his car and slammed the door in my face. That was the first time I saw his anger.
The second time was worse. He went through my phone and found an old photo of me and my ex. Enraged, he dragged me to an empty park and interrogated me about my past. When I admitted I wasn’t a virgin, he slapped me—over and over again. My vision blurred, and my head spun as he accused me of cheating and threatened to tell my mother about my "shame."
Coming from a strict Muslim household, where even physical contact with a boy was frowned upon, his threats held power over me. I tried to leave him, but every time I did, he would show up at my house, threatening to expose me to my family. Trapped by fear and manipulation, I had no choice but to stay.
Gaming became my only escape. In that virtual world, I wasn’t the abused girlfriend or the overworked daughter. I was free. And though I didn’t know it yet, this digital refuge would lead me to someone who would change my life forever.
