On an Isolated Island

Izla spent the most delightful moments with Daniel, wrapped in his embrace. These were memories that would remain etched in her mind, untouched by the passage of time. What she hoped for was that nothing would disturb the purity and sincerity of their deep, selfless love—born out of a mutual need for one another. Yet, what kept her awake at night was her fear of the future and the surprises it might hold.

On their way back, Izla asked him to drop her off at her aunt's house so her aunt wouldn't worry. She bid him farewell after making sure he was feeling better. Before heading to her room, she stopped by her aunt, embracing her tightly. She had missed her dearly; her aunt was the only one left who reminded her of her late mother, whom death had snatched away before she could say goodbye. Her aunt sensed this, reciprocating the same warmth and understanding. Her aunt asked:

"How was your time, my dear?"

Izla replied, "It was wonderful, Aunt. We had a great time, especially at the beach."

Izla had no idea that George was in the house. He caught her by surprise as he descended the stairs; he had been upstairs, in a room close to the one she slept in. He didn't miss the chance to mock her, saying:

"So, the lost girl has finally returned from her trip. I suppose you lost your way, which is why you didn't make it back home last night?"

Izla replied indifferently, "I didn't lose my way; I was with Daniel because he was unwell."

He retorted sarcastically, "Oh, so you're his nurse now? I wasn't aware of that. Anyway, let's hope it doesn't happen again. Remember, you're our responsibility now."

Unable to bear his words, she went up to her room and threw herself onto her bed, tears streaming down her face against her will. Her father had abandoned her, leaving her at the mercy of others who now dictated her actions. She, who had been accustomed to freedom and boundless adventures, was now confined to abide by the rules of a household dictated by someone who had no authority over her.

In her thoughts, she questioned, "How can he interfere in my life and impose rules when he doesn't even obey his own mother?"

What a selfish man! The distance between them had grown so vast that he now felt like a stranger to her. She had wished he could be like a brother—someone to support her and stand by her side—not someone who exploited her vulnerability and loneliness to control her and force her into things she despised.

There's nothing more cowardly than a person who weighs down another's weakness against their strength to assert their dominance, thriving in murky waters.

Izla fell asleep with tears on her cheeks. The sound of rain hitting her window deepened her sorrow, disrupting her rest. That night, the rain was accompanied by stormy winds, a forewarning of a tempestuous evening ahead.