I lived under my uncle’s roof — that man who wore the mask of kindness in front of others, but kept his true face only for me. I was an orphan, and he had raised me since I was a little girl, yet he knew nothing of parenting but cruelty, punishment, and a loud voice. He always said, “Discipline only comes through pain.”

One evening, after receiving yet another slap simply for breaking a glass, I decided to run away. I slipped out through my bedroom window, the moon silently watching over me. I ran through the alleys until I stumbled upon an abandoned building, its back door slightly ajar. I stepped in, unaware I was walking into the mouth of hell.

Everything was cloaked in darkness, until a faint light leaked from one of the rooms. I crept closer, my eyes widening in terror... My uncle stood there, looming over the body of my friend Salim, a bloodied knife dripping in his hand, his face cold and void of remorse. I heard him mutter:

"He was watching you... I don’t allow anyone to look at you the way I do."

I gasped without meaning to, and he turned toward me. I tried to flee, but his guards seized me like a hunter snatching a trembling rabbit. He approached me with heavy steps, a crooked smile creeping across his lips, then whispered:

"Why are you running away, my little bunny?... Your punishment will be in my bed tonight."