Jiva was no ordinary girl. An international engineering student in Germany, she had traded the warmth of home for ambition, settling in a quiet university town nestled between snow-capped hills and cobbled streets. Brave, curious, and determined, she lived with her roommate Mia in a cozy third-floor apartment near campus. Life had a rhythm—lectures, late-night projects, quiet dinners, and occasional laughter echoing through the old walls.
But one night changed everything.
It began with a spark—small, sudden, but deadly. Jiva had just come back from the lab, exhausted, when the lights flickered and smoke curled from the electric socket. Within seconds, flames licked the curtains. Trapped, coughing, terrified, she banged on the window until the rescue team burst in. They saved her. No one was hurt, and the apartment suffered little damage. Relief flooded her chest.
But relief was short-lived.
During the investigation, firefighters discovered something chilling. The spark wasn’t an accident. Someone had tampered with the wires. Before they could warn her, Jiva was already in danger again—this time in a far more sinister way.
That very night, Mia had gone to visit her parents. Jiva was alone. Just as she made tea, there was a knock at the door.
She opened it.
The man on the other side smiled too warmly. She didn’t know him.
But he knew everything about her.
“I’ve been watching you for so long, Jiva,” he said softly. “You’re perfect.”
She tried to slam the door, but he was faster.
He drugged her.
When she woke up, she was lying on a thin mattress inside an old classroom. Rusted lockers lined the walls, faded posters still clung to the boards. It was a long-abandoned school in the middle of nowhere—isolated, eerie, and cold.
The stranger—her captor—was obsessed. He had followed her online, tracked her life through posts, stories, even her digital class presentations. Twisted by delusion, he believed she was meant to be with him.
Jiva awoke with a pounding headache and numb limbs. Her wrists were sore—tightly bound earlier with zip ties. She lay on a thin mattress that smelled of damp mold. Around her were cracked blackboards, desks stacked in corners, and shattered windows sealed with cardboard. It was an old countryside school building—abandoned and surrounded by woods. No signal. No sound of life.
Her captor—tall, soft-spoken, with icy eyes—came in holding a tray of food. “You’re safe now,” he said, smiling like he hadn’t just destroyed her life. “You’re mine. I’ve been watching you… I saved you from that fire. I love you, Jiva.”
Jiva recoiled, but didn’t scream. She wouldn’t give him that.
“I want to go home,” she said firmly, eyes locked on his. “You’re sick.”
He only chuckled. “You’ll love me eventually. I’ll make sure of it.”
The Days that Followed
Each day blurred into the next.
He gave her food—sometimes stale, sometimes fresh. He left books, as if pretending she was still a student. He talked for hours, telling her how he’d found her Instagram profile, followed her class schedules, and even broken into her apartment once just to feel her presence.
Sometimes, he was gentle—talking as if they were on a date. Other times, he snapped into rage if she refused to speak, or when she cried silently in the corner.
He kept her locked in one room, with only a bucket for a bathroom. No windows. Just flickering light from a battery lamp.
But she never gave him what he wanted—love. Not even false hope.
She resisted in every way she could. She counted the cracks on the ceiling, traced the footsteps he took, studied the lock on the door. Her engineering mind never stopped working. She remembered where he kept the keys. She faked weakness once—just to see how he’d react.
One night, he brought in a photo album—filled with pictures of her from campus, shopping, studying in the library. Each image felt like a knife to her chest.
“You don’t even know me,” she spat.
“I know enough,” he whispered. “You’re mine.”
That night, he touched her cheek. She froze in terror.
But instead of screaming, she stared straight at him, cold and furious. “You’re not in love. You’re in control. But you’ll lose.”
That seemed to rattle him.
Moments of Breaking
There were nights she broke down in the dark, hugging herself, shaking from hunger and cold. Her ribs ached from lying on concrete. Her voice was hoarse from not speaking. She thought of her family, of Mia. Would they think she ran away? Would they find her body someday?
But even in her despair, something inside her refused to die.
She began writing messages with a nail she found, scratching notes on the wall: her name, the date, where she thought she was. If someone ever found the place, they’d know she was here.
She scraped paint off the walls to mark the days. She lost count at day twelve.
The Turning Point
One night, after a violent argument—when he slapped her for the first time—he left the door unlatched in a rush.
She waited in the silence, heartbeat pounding like war drums.
She tiptoed out. Found a hallway.
And there, in an old teacher’s lounge, she found it—an emergency fire axe covered in dust.
She didn’t run back. She waited. When he came back, calling her name, she was ready.
She hit him once—on the leg. Not to kill. Just to disable.
He screamed.
She ran.
Freedom
The woods were vast, and she had no shoes. Thorns tore her skin. The cold stung. But she kept running.
She didn’t stop until she collapsed on a road where a truck driver found her.
Police arrested the man within hours. The investigation revealed everything—photos, surveillance, even the tampered wires in her apartment.
Jiva testified in court with steel in her spine.
Life After
She returned to the university a different person. Her body healed slowly. Her mind took longer.
But she didn’t hide.
She gave a talk at a university event about online safety, stalking, and the importance of listening to survivors. She told her story. Not as a victim, but as someone who fought her way out.
Jiva proved that sometimes, even when the world burns and strangers come knocking with nightmares behind their smiles, bravery, intelligence, and a refusal to break can light the way home.
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