"The agony of being burned alive is beyond words, a pain that seeps into one's very bones.

Even now, the memory of that searing pain clings to me, as vivid as the flames themselves."

Now, I faced the same threat once again, dying in flames.

I thought that by not calling Leonard, I could avoid repeating the tragedy of my past life.

I never imagined he would spread lies to the entire fire department, claiming I was faking the danger.

A sharp pain twisted in my belly, as if my unborn child was reminding me of his cruelty.

Five years, every day of which now felt like a bitter memory.

We bought this place two years ago, hoping it would become our marital nest.

Nestled in an old neighborhood, the house was small and humble, but it felt like enough for us.

Leonard and I were just ordinary people, and owning a home in the pricey city of Aymali felt like a small triumph.

Orphaned young, all I ever longed for was a place to call home, filled with love.

During our happiest times, Leonard swore over and over that he'd make me happy, and I believed him with all my heart.

The two of us handpicked every piece of furniture in this house.

I tended the flowers blooming on the balcony.

I poured my love into this home, shaping it into the cozy, warm place I'd always dreamed of.

But just like the faulty wiring that sparked the flames, our relationship had been deteriorating for a long time.

Every day that I mistakenly believe to be peaceful and uneventful, there lies a hidden danger waiting to unfold.

I remained calm as I reached for the cherished photo album.

The album held five years of memories, each snapshot a reminder of what once was.

He used to tease that we'd pass this album down for our children to see.

But now, in mere seconds, the paper pages curled and blackened, consumed by the hungry flames.

The fire raged fiercer by the moment. Flames consumed the wooden door, swept over the bed, and engulfed the curtains, advancing on me like a living, fiery beast.

At this point, my only escape was the window.

I clambered out, my heart pounding in my chest.

Standing on the narrow ledge of the air conditioner unit, gripping the scorching window frame, I knew the danger was far from over.

I stood on the fifth floor.

Not too high, but with a child in my womb, who knew what would happen if I fell?

Below, a crowd had gathered, neighbors from the building. I recognized a few familiar faces.

Their panic-filled shouts echoed up to me as they saw me teetering on the ledge.

"Hold on tight! Don't let go!"

"We called the fire department!"

Even though many of them were mere acquaintances, their concern for me was genuine and urgent.

Yet Leonard, the man I'd spent over five years with, nearly two thousand days and nights, was completely indifferent.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I faced the painful truth. I had given my heart to the wrong man.

With more people dialing 911, Steven at the fire station finally sensed something was seriously wrong.

One or two calls could be dismissed as false alarms or jealous antics.

But with so many people calling, their voices laced with panic, he couldn't ignore it.

Still, Leonard had used his authority to take nearly the entire team to save Megan. Even if Steven wanted to send help, no one left.

The neighbors below were waiting anxiously, but help still hadn't arrived.

Meanwhile, I was growing weaker up above by the second.

Pain gnawed at my belly, leaving me pale and trembling.

Blisters bubbled on my burnt hands, making it nearly impossible to maintain my grip.

As gasps and cries filled the air below, my grip weakened, slipping away. I could no longer hold on, and I felt myself tumbling backward...