THE UNPLANNED CRASH
1044 Words
Sebastian, an arrogant, cold billionaire, was a powerful young man who was obscenely wealthy, unapologetically rude, and accustomed to control.
Who believes money solves everything and has zero patience for street chaos.
It's as if she is dragging my soul through the mud. My heart is full of so much pain I couldn't carry.
Overthinking, frustration, and fears keep giving me sleepless nights. All my dreams have fallen apart. Now here I am, a twenty-one-year-old lady, broke, exhausted, and invisible to the world.
Hawked on a street for a stepmother who treats me like an obligation rather than a family member.
My clothes are faded, my hands are rough, but beneath the struggle lived a woman who had never been allowed to choose my own self.
The billionaire arrogantly ordered the driver to speed up.
Annoyed by the tone, the driver slammed his hand on the horn blowing it impatiently.
Sebastian was aggressive and furious that anyone who dared block his way, he would get out of the car and throw the items from her head to the ground.
Accusing them of being careless and uneducated.
While hawking under the hot sun, mentally drained after another abuse from my stepmother, lost in thoughts, I stepped into the road.
After I realized I was lost by myself, my items were on the ground. At that moment, tears flowed through my eyes.
He then shouted "Are you deaf"?
I begin to realize what I was seeing is reality. I begin to scream because I know going home without money or the items will make my life a living hell.
We clashed in a heated debate because of the billionaire's arrogance and my sharp tongue although emotionally bruised. I wanted to show him I'm not weak. I tied my cloth around my waist, and I angrily hurled a stone at his car's window, the glass shattering with a deafening crash.
At that moment, the air was thick with silence.
As I flee, fear and regret clash within me. I know I crossed a line.
Yet another part of me insists the act was justified, not out of recklessness but because I refused to remain silent while being humiliated.
My emotions for the damage caused, but no apology for defending my dignity.
The billionaire was furious, not just because of the broken window. Glass could be replaced, but because no one had ever dared challenge him like that, "the audacity".
Let alone in the middle of a public street. The impact hadn't shattered just his window, but it had cracked my untouchable image.
He said to himself.
In his world, people bowed and apologized. But she did none of them. That was unforgivable. He intends to search for her, intending to make her pay.
Not out of anger alone, but with the chilling intent to remind her what it cost to challenge a man who ruled without opposition.
Not for justice, not for revenge.
But to ensure she understands the weight of standing against him.
I returned home with empty hands and a heavier heart. The basket I had hawked all day lay shattered by someone on the road, scattered by a man who believed money gave him the right to erase people.
Every step home burned with humiliation and frustration clawing at her chest.
My stepmother didn't ask how I was.
She asked for the money.
When none came, she demanded the items.
When there were none, I tried to explain. But explanations mean nothing to a woman who thrived on cruelty.
Before I could finish, a slap of words struck harder than any hand.
My stepmother twisted her face with disgust. Avelyn Cross!!
She shouted my name, "You are a burden"
"A mouth that eats without bringing anything back"
The door was opened and I was pushed out without mercy.
"Leave", my stepmother snapped. And don't ever step foot in this house again.
The door slammed, and I stood outside with nowhere to go, realizing that the billionaire hadn't been the only one who had destroyed my life that day.
Sabastian, hired a man. Not the kind who asked questions but the kind who found people who did not want to be found.
I was homeless and penniless and carrying shame that was never mine, and I vanished into the city like a wound that refused to grow.
Cities always surrendered to money and people always talked when paid enough.
Yet I slipped through every net they cast.
I left no address, no name worth tracing, no past to claim.
It was as if the streets themselves were protecting me.
They searched markets where hunger spoke louder than words, shelters where desperation wore many faces, and alleyways where the forgotten learned how to disappear.
Each lead collapsed into nothing.
The man he hired reported failures with a clenched jaw.
No records.
What unsettled him was not the delay. It was the realization that the girl he meant to humble was surviving without him.
Each dead end felt like another silent challenge, another reminder that power did not always reach where suffering lived.
The day he finally found her, the building was still unfinished bare concrete, exposed wires, and silence thick enough to swallow footsteps.
He had come to inspect the site, irritation riding him hard after weeks of failure.
The search had drained his patience, bruised his ego. He was already turning away when something stilled him, a small, fragile shape curled near a pillar, hidden beneath dust and shadow.
I was asleep
Not peacefully, not safe
My body was folded inward as I had learned to take up as little space as possible.
My clothes were thin, my face was exhausted rather than rested.
The girl who had shattered my window and challenged his authority looked nothing like the threat I imagined.
She had run because the world had given her nowhere to land.
And yet ....... She dared me. He said to himself.
Finding her like this did not erase what she had done. It only made the moment heavier, and more dangerous.
Waking her would change everything. That's what all his thoughts were about.
And for the first time, since the hunt began, he was no longer certain who would break first.
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- Writer
