Whatsapp Image 2023 09 10 At 10.32.12 Pm

Rebel Roses

16th October 2023 | 82 Views

Disclaimer from Creator: This book contains depictions of violence, including murder and killing, which are integral to the storyline. These scenes are intended for dramatic and storytelling purposes and should not be interpreted as endorsements or glorifications of such actions.The author acknowledges the potential emotional impact that these scenes may have on some readers and advises discretion when engaging with this material. Reader discretion is advised, and this book may not be suitable for all audiences.It is important to remember that this is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real-life events or individuals, living or deceased, is purely coincidental. The author does not condone or promote violence in any form.If you find such content distressing or triggering, please consider whether this book is suitable for your reading preferences and mental well-being. Your emotional comfort and well-being are of utmost importance.

Info: This Creation is monetized via ads and affiliate links. We may earn from promoting certain products in our Creations, or when you engage with various Ad Units.

How was this Creation created: We are a completely AI-free platform, all Creations are checked to make sure content is original, human-written, and plagiarism free.


“A woman’s fight is not just for herself, but for the countless other women who have been silenced. Together, we rise.”




I left college an hour ago, It was such an exhausting day. Should I call her?

“Hey Mom, is Dad back?”

“Nah baby, I called him a few minutes back, and he said that he has a night shift. So he won’t be back before midnight”

“Okay, I am planning to visit the nearby cafeteria and then I might stay in the library for a bit, I have some work to do. So, I might get late. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Okay, be safe” I smiled “Yeah Mom, bye” The call ended

My heart skips a beat as I sit at a corner table on the café’s patio, enjoying a leisurely afternoon. The sun casts a gentle warmth, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air. I sip my cappuccino and dive back into my book when something tugs at my peripheral vision.


Turning my head, I spot a small figure standing just beyond the café’s entrance. It’s a young child, no older than four, and he seems utterly distraught. His big, teary eyes dart around the bustling street, scanning faces with a mix of confusion and fear. His lower lip quivers, and he tightly clutches a worn, stuffed teddy bear in one hand.


The world around me momentarily fades as my attention is wholly drawn to the lost child. Concern etches my features, and my book is quickly abandoned.


I watch the young noy with a gentle, compassionate gaze as he stands there, overwhelmed and lost. My heart aches for him, and I feel a pang of empathy for the innocent child caught in this disorienting situation. It’s as if time slows down, and the sounds of laughter and conversation from the café patrons become distant murmurs.


A knot forms in my stomach, and I know I can’t just sit here. I start approaching the innocent kid, my movements deliberate yet filled with a sense of urgency. I offer a reassuring smile, my heart reaching out to the young boy who’s clearly in need of help.

As I approach the lost child, I see his teary eyes widen with a mix of hope and trepidation as he notices my presence. He clutches his teddy bear even tighter, as if seeking comfort from his trusted companion. His small, quivering lips part slightly as he takes in my friendly demeanor.


I crouch down to his eye level, my eyes locking onto his, and my heart goes out to him as I offer a gentle, reassuring smile. My voice is soft and soothing as I extend a hand, inviting him to trust me.


I could see the hesitation in his gaze, but it’s swiftly replaced by a glimmer of trust and the beginnings of a connection. With a shaky breath, he takes a small step closer, his tiny fingers trembling as they reach out to touch my hand.


His voice, fragile yet determined, trembles as he speaks, “Can you help me find my way back home?” His words are like a lifeline, a plea for assistance and guidance, and I can hear the vulnerability in his tone “why wouldn’t I?”

As I see the child smile, my perspective narrows to focus entirely on that small, beautiful moment. The world around me seems to fade into the background as my attention is drawn to the child’s face.

“Aunty you promise me to take me to my home back?” he said as cutely as possible- the hell Aunty? Ew. “Do you know your address?” he nods, and I smiled.

He gave me a piece of paper where the address was written. I found it suspicious, why is this kid already having his address written on this paper, not like he knew he was about to get lost. Even though I found it doubtful, I decided to help the poor kid.






The place I entered looked abandoned- Oh shit, is this a game? Oh no I heard this- I looked at the kid with disbelief, he kept looking somewhere, and I followed the way. I saw a man hiding behind an abandoned house, while he smiles creepily at me.

His presence seemed to cast a chilling chill as if he had emerged from the darkest recesses of a nightmare.


His face bore the marks of time and hardship, deep lines etched into weathered skin. Sunken, glassy eyes peered out from beneath a greasy mop of unkempt hair, their color obscured by an unnerving intensity. As if trapped in a perpetual state of suspicion, his gaze darted erratically, scanning the surroundings with a predatory vigilance.


A thin, wiry frame seemed to carry a malevolence within its confines. Dressed in tattered, ill-fitting clothes that hung loosely on his gaunt form, he exuded an air of squalor and decay. A stench of neglect and decay lingered in his wake, a foul odor that clung to his unwashed clothes and matted hair.


His lips, thin and cracked, twisted into a crooked grin that sent shivers down the spine. The absence of warmth or genuine emotion in his expression only deepened the unsettling nature of his presence. It was as if he reveled in the discomfort he instilled in others, finding a perverse pleasure in their unease.


Every movement he made seemed calculated and deliberate as if he were a predator stalking its prey. His bony fingers, adorned with dirt-encrusted nails, twitched and fidgeted restlessly, further betraying his unsettling nature. There was an air of unpredictability around him as if he could erupt into violence at any given moment.

In the presence of this creepy man, an atmosphere of dread settled, as if the very air had turned icy and thick. The hairs on the back of one’s neck would stand on end, and an instinctual urge to flee would grip even the bravest souls. He embodied the embodiment of discomfort, leaving an indelible mark of unease on anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. I panicked


Panic, Panic, Panic.


I froze, as he drew closer, I caught a glimpse of a sinister glint in his eyes like he would kill me any moment now. With a gloved hand, the man retrieved a handkerchief from the pocket of his faded coat. The fabric appeared worn and stained, a reflection of the ominous nature of the situation. As he unfurled the handkerchief, the faint scent of an unknown substance wafted through the air, triggering a primal instinct to retreat.

My heart pounded in my chest as the man approached me, his face obscured by the shadows. With an aggressive hand, he pressed the handkerchief against my mouth and nose, his touch both invasive and intimate.


The pungent aroma of the unknown substance invaded my senses, overwhelming and disorienting. Desperate gasps for air turned into shallow breaths, as the world around me began to blur and fade. My limbs grew heavy as if encased in lead, and drowsiness crept through my veins, coaxing me towards unconsciousness.

I passed out

Black, Black, Black.








I opened my eyes, in a dark room. My heart starts beating fast. Did that guy touch me- NONONO, this can’t be. I looked for my surroundings.

The room is dimly lit, with a single flickering overhead light that casts eerie shadows on the peeling wallpaper. The walls are bare, devoid of any decorations or windows, and have a faded yellowish feel. The air feels stagnant and carries a faint musty smell, suggesting a lack of ventilation.

There is a single wooden door with no visible doorknob on one wall, appearing worn and slightly warped. The door seems sturdy, providing a foreboding sense of isolation and entrapment.

The floor beneath my feet is made of cold, cracked concrete, adding to the discomfort and giving an impression of neglect. There are no windows, leaving the room devoid of natural light and any connection to the outside world.


The room lacks basic amenities, such as furniture or personal belongings, aside from the bare essentials. It appears as though it was purposefully designed to instill fear, with its oppressive and unsettling atmosphere.

My hand and legs were tied to an old chair, my mouth was taped there was no way I could help myself, even if I try taking off this tape. There is no point in screaming, absolutely no one is around and I can’t risk my life. Think positive Lisa, you’re strong.

As my eyes darted around, desperately searching for an escape route, they came to rest upon a man slumbering in the corner. He lay sprawled on the floor with a torn-up mattress his disheveled hair partially concealing his face. The worn-out mattress creaked under his weight as he peacefully dozed, unaware of the torment unfolding around him.


His features, though worn with fatigue, held a rugged handsomeness that seemed out of place in this sinister setting. A day’s worth of stubble lined his jawline, lending an air of mystery to his appearance. His broad shoulders, outlined by the tattered fabric of his shirt, hinted at a strength that lay dormant in his unconscious state.


The flickering light from a single bare bulb above cast a pale glow on his face, casting long shadows that danced across the room. His lips curled ever so slightly into a serene smile as if he were dreaming of a faraway paradise, oblivious to the peril that held me captive. He wasn’t the same creepy guy, who drugged me. He was another guy.


In that fragile moment, a surge of conflicting emotions welled up within me. I felt a tinge of sympathy for the man, despite the fact that he was one of the captors who tried kidnapping me. Yet, I also harbored a simmering fury, knowing that he had played a role in my distress.


As the minutes ticked by, the man stirred in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering gently. I held my breath, fearful that he would awaken and bring further calamity upon me. However, to my great relief, he settled back into his slumber.


The scene held an eerie stillness, a temporary respite in the whirlwind of chaos that had engulfed me. The fate of my freedom lay in the hands of these unknown captors, their motivations and intentions shrouded in secrecy.

I don’t have time, for this shit. I need to get out of here as soon as possible. I need to find a way.

Gosh, I need to untie my hands and legs first.


Summoning every ounce of courage, I focused on the ropes that imprisoned me. With trembling fingers, I meticulously explored the knots, my touch light and deliberate. With each careful tug and twist, the ropes began to loosen, granting me the freedom I yearned for. My heart pounded in my chest, the thudding beat a constant reminder of the urgency that surrounded me. Sweat beaded on my brow as I persisted, aware that the slightest noise could betray my attempt at escape.

The ropes gradually yielded to my determination, their grip weakening with each passing moment. A mixture of relief and anticipation swelled within me, fuelling my efforts as I inched closer to liberation. The sensation of warmth and blood rushing back into my numbed limbs served as a reminder that freedom was within reach.

Finally, with one final tug, the last knot gave way, releasing my hands and legs from their captivity. A surge of empowerment surged through me as I flexed my newly freed limbs, savoring the return of sensation and mobility.

 I was still seated on the out-worn chair, I stood up and looked at the dozed-off man again. He isn’t awake. Let’s go.

Silent as a ghost, I encourage myself to move, my heart racing with the anticipation of escape.

Eyes fixed on the slumbering figure, I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves. The wooden floor beneath me creaked with the weight of my trepidation, urging me to move with even greater care. I raised my foot, slowly, ever so slowly, testing each step before committing my weight.


Muscles strained, I shifted my weight from heel to toe, seeking to distribute my pressure as gently as possible. I willed the floorboards to be my allies, praying that they would support my weight without uttering a single sound.

But who knew fate was on my side, as I moved forward I stepped on a wooden strip, and it made a sound. Which made the guy flutter his eye lids. And his gaze in my direction, as he finds himself in shock. Wow, you are so dead, Celine.




With my heart pounding and adrenaline surging through my veins. I found myself in a life-or-death situation. Bound by ropes, I had been held captive by the merciless kidnapper in a dimly lit room.

Just as I reached the door, the kidnapper stirred, his eyes flickering open. Reacting swiftly, I lunged forward, still in a panic situation. A mix of surprise and pain registered on his face as he realized that I had broken free from his clutches.

Fear and determination converged within me as I tried fighting back, dodging his desperate attempts to grab hold of me. Using my agility and resourcefulness, I employed a series of swift strikes and well-placed kicks, incapacitating him further. He picked up a knife, pointing it at me. I gulped hard. He came forward still pointing his knife at me, I grabbed his hair and landed his head on my knee, making him feel unconscious. I snatched the knife from him and shoved it inside his chest three times.

I dropped the knife, the moment I realized I murdered a man. With shaky hands, I started calming myself down.

It’s okay Lisa, this creep deserved it.

It’s okay, you protected yourself nothing else.

Don’t panic.   

Seizing the moment, I raced towards the door, my heart pounding with a newfound sense of freedom and nervousness. With every ounce of strength left in me, I burst through the exit, leaving the darkness of captivity behind.


As I emerged into the outside world, I took a deep breath, feeling the cool air filling my lungs. The taste of victory mingled with my exhale, reminding me of the power I possessed within. I knew that my fight wasn’t over, but at that moment I realized the fact that I had protected myself and earned my chance at a new beginning.

I looked for my surroundings, my hands are covered in blood, I need to take the stain off my hands, now!

I reached the place where, that creepy guy kidnapped me- what on earth, how is my bag still here?

These guys proved they were not wanting the money or shit. The main aim they had was to kidnap me. I picked up my bag and saw that not a single thing was missing my wallet, makeup, money, books, and cards. Everything was present.

I closed my bag, hung it on my shoulder, and left. On my way, I found a hand pump.

I hope it works.

The water starts falling, and my nervousness grew with every drop. Even if he deserved it, I might get arrested for murdering him.

My heart is in my mouth.

I rubbed my hands under the water removing every single molecule of the blood. My anxiety grew harder, every second. I never thought of opening a book of red, where my story horrors.

I left panicking, this wasn’t supposed to be my life.




As I darted down the bustling city street, a sense of urgency consumed me. I couldn’t breathe, and beads of perspiration formed on my forehead, despite the cool breeze that swept through the air. The distant roar of the approaching bus grew louder, fueling my panic as I realized I was perilously close to missing it.

It was close to midnight, me, missing the bus? Not happening.

Dodging pedestrians, I weaved through the crowded sidewalk, narrowly avoiding collisions with hurried individuals going about their own lives, and some giving me disgusted looks. The world seemed to blur around me as I focused solely on reaching my destination before the bus departed. The seconds felt like an eternity as I pushed myself to my physical limits.


The bus stop loomed ahead, its shelter casting a flickering shadow on the pavement. With each stride, my legs burned, protesting against the exertion, but I fought through the pain, willing myself to go faster. My eyes darted between the road ahead and the bus, which now seemed to mockingly inch closer to its departure point.


Finally, I closed the gap. With an adrenaline-fueled burst of energy, I sprinted the last few meters, desperately waving my arms and calling out to the bus driver. The screech of brakes pierced the air as the bus came to an abrupt halt, its doors opening just as I reached them.


Gasping for breath, I stumbled onto the bus, feeling the stares of the passengers fixed on my state. As I leaned against the nearest handrail, my pulse slowly began to settle, the relief of catching the bus washing over me.

After finding an empty seat, I sank into it, my chest rising and falling with each breath. The rush subsided, giving way to a sense of gratitude mixed with lingering unease. I glanced out the window, realizing the value of time and the unexpected turns it could take.

No matter, how strong I am, everyone has that one stop that can make all of them go down on their knees.

And I wasn’t going to do that. My family is here in India, they are my only weakness.

Either I have to get myself arrested or get my family in trouble.

And I am doing neither of em’.


My sister. Katie!

I totally forgot about her, she won’t forgive me, even after I give her my reasons.

Though I consider her my weakness, I am none of hers. That’s what a police officer is told to do.




Guilt washed all over my face as I entered the door and saw everyone sitting on the couch with different types of expressions plastered on their faces, worried, shocked, panicked, and lastly relieved.

“where were you?”-

“why are you this late?”-

“why didn’t you call us?”-

Saying this everyone came running towards me to check whether I was hurt or not.

Dad? What is he doing here, he had a night shift I believe.

“Are you all right honey?” my dad caressed my hair as I nodded and smiled.

“Don’t worry” I fake chuckled “I overslept in the library while reading a book.” My sister sighs in relief “I thought- never mind” you thought right sissy. I smiled at them and everyone shook their head at my innocence. 


I enter my bedroom, I didn’t switch the lights on instead I spread the curtains and opened the window casting a soft glow upon the room. The atmosphere feels heavy, charged with a mixture of regret and disbelief, I sit on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands.


My body trembles with the weight of a terrible revelation, my mind racing with self-blame and disbelief. The room feels suffocating as if the air itself carries the weight of my actions.

“How could I have done something so unbelievable? I can’t believe this happened.”

My voice quivers, my hands shaking as I struggle to comprehend the enormity of my mistake

“I never thought I could sink so low. How did it come to this? I can’t escape the guilt that consumes me.”

My words hang heavy in the silence, My own voice echoing in my ears, amplifying the weight of guilt.


The room feels claustrophobic as I battle with my inner demons. The weight of my guilt threatens to crush me, my breaths get shallow and unsteady. My mind becoming a battlefield of self-doubt, replaying the events over and over, searching for a way to undo the damage caused.

“I can’t believe I’ve become this person. I never wanted to hurt anyone. How can I ever make amends for what I’ve done?”

The tears flow freely now, streaming down my face, mirroring the torrent of emotions within.


I need to get all my shit together, right now!

I opened my laptop; I am not staying here anymore.

The last few hours of my life were the most traumatic ever, I never experienced this feeling before, the fear of getting caught, the fear of death and not only does this affect me the most, the thing I m afraid of the most is facing my family, Katie!

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know what to think.

Oh my gosh-

I need to do something about this. If caught I at least need a proof of not being guilty.


I remember she told me her brother works for some security company-

“Hey, Sara. I hope I didn’t disturb you. I know its late. But I needed a favor.”




Thank you so much for reading my first part, the second one will have some interesting twists… I hope you all will love it 
Love you… 

Parisha Rana



You may also like

Leave a Reply