While I was still holding the little boy, the man chasing after him rushed towards me. He shoved me aside and started beating up the boy.
I tried to intervene, but he pushed me away, and I fell to the ground. Immediately, he rushed towards me, and then the strangest thing happened.
This good-for-nothing idiot started to loosen his belt. He unzipped his pants and exposed himself in broad daylight.
I had never seen such madness in my entire life.
I was terrified. Desperate, I grabbed him by the balls and squeezed hard while King used his water bottle to bash him on the head. King kept hitting him until we finally overpowered him.
I took King and the little boy with me, and we ran for our lives. We ran to the police station and reported this crazy asshole. He was immediately arrested.
I asked the boy to take me to his home. He was skeptical at first but eventually agreed.
When we got to his place, he hesitated to go inside. I asked him why he was acting this way. What was he so scared about? He told me he was terrified of his mother.
He said his parents always beat him up unprovoked. I was dumbfounded and felt really sorry for this child.
His parents were obviously very dirty people. The whole compound was a mess.
The place was a complete dumpster. How could anyone live in a place like this?
I kept knocking at the door for about three minutes, but no one answered. Could it be that there's no one around?
I turned to leave when I heard a woman's voice.
"Come in," the voice said sluggishly.
We stepped inside the filthy house and were immediately greeted by rats scurrying around the living room. This is no exaggeration; the place was infested with rats.
Cobwebs hung everywhere, and cockroaches were having a meeting at the tiny, ugly-looking dining table.
Rats were eating from the same plate as this woman.
She was drinking and smoking when we walked in. No wonder her husband acted the way he did earlier. They were both crazy together.
What baffled me was how these people lived. They were not qualified to call themselves this boy's parents when they acted this way. They clearly didn't care about him.
At this point, a part of me wanted to take this boy home and make him my son. But another part of me was afraid of what I would do to the person who gave him to such people.
Did Mrs. Dragon really do this?
Could she be that heartless?
We've been standing since we came into the living room, watching this woman smoke her life away.
She completely ignored us. I was confused. Wasn't she the one who spoke a minute ago? So after telling us to come inside, she just made us stand there like statues, as though we were being punished for a crime we didn't commit.
"Excuse me, I would like to speak to you. It's very urgent," I said, but there was no response from her. She was too busy with her drink and cigarette.
I felt a small tug on my skirt. Turning around, I saw the little boy pointing towards a room on the right. At first, I didn't understand what he was trying to tell me, but then I realized he wanted me to go into the room.
Curiosity got the best of me, so I started heading towards the room. But as soon as the woman saw me walking in that direction, she sprang up and rushed past me, blocking the door with her body.
"Did you lose your way?" she questioned me, her voice dripping with menace. "If you did, you better find it back before I make you regret ever stepping foot into this house with your son." Her threats were clear, and then she turned her icy glare towards the little boy.
"Why did you bring this woman here, Jake?" she demanded. I could see the fear in his eyes; he had crossed a line today and would pay dearly.
She threatened to break both of his legs. "You won't be getting any food for the whole week," she sneered, pointing her finger at him like a loaded gun.
I was fed up with her nonsense. "Jake, come with King and me. Let's leave here at once," I said firmly. But he didn't move an inch, standing there, rooted to the spot.
"Come, dear, don't you want to go with me?" I was scared that maybe he wanted to remain here, with this sick woman.
"I can't leave just yet. Not without my sister," he blurted out.
"Your sister? Is she in that room?" I asked, shocked.
He nodded and said, "Yes, it's been three days now."
"W-What? Three days?" I found myself stuttering. I couldn't believe what I had just heard.
"Our parents locked her in there without food or water because she accidentally spilled water on their bed," he explained, his voice trembling. I felt weak at the thought.
How can anyone be this wicked?
Fueled by anger, I pushed the woman away from the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. Jake told me he knew where she hid the key, and he quickly ran to fetch it.
The woman wanted to come after me but, for some reason, held herself back and ran inside instead. Jake returned with the key, and I took it from him, unlocking the door.
As we were about to enter the room, I saw the woman running towards us with a white plastic bottle in her hand, the cap off. She tripped over her long skirt, and the bottle flew out of her hand, its contents splashing all over her face.
Immediately, she began screaming and crying, writhing in pain. I was horrified as her skin started to peel off, realizing it was acid.
Her plan had backfired spectacularly.
I left her writhing in agony and went into the room with King and Jake. We found the little girl still breathing. Thank God she was alive. The room stank horribly; she had soiled herself.
She was dehydrated and looked like she wouldn't last much longer.
Jake started crying upon seeing his sister, and King joined him. I held back my own tears; I had to be strong for them.
I quickly pulled out my phone and dialed 911. I was relieved when they arrived faster than I expected.
I could feel the tears welling up inside, but I managed to contain them. Seeing this little girl changed everything.
My life would never be the same after what I had just witnessed.
This was enough to make anyone lose their humanity. Now, I wanted nothing more than to see the people responsible for keeping me away from my children and hurting them pay dearly.
I didn't need a soothsayer or a DNA test to prove they were my children.
The little boy and his sister looked exactly like my King. They were my children. The children who were stolen from me by Mrs. Dragon. They were both my kids. I never got the chance to breastfeed them.
They were taken from me the minute I gave birth to them by these villains.
They tore me apart from my children and handed them over to these monsters to starve and torment.
Enough talk. Talk is cheap. What I want now is the blood of the Dragons. I will make them feel every ounce of pain I have endured.
I want them to suffer just as I have suffered.