fantasy
Micheal
313
Everything was fine before my father, Antรณn Castillo, became president. Before the soldiers, before the cameras, before Viviro the red poison๏ฟผ. He was a good man once a farmerโs son with soil on his hands and hope in his chest. He lifted me onto his shoulders and whispered, โMi hija, one day Cuba will rise again.โ When he shouted in the plaza, โยกUna vida mejor para todos! A better life for everyone!โ I believed him. Michael believed him too. We promised we would escape Cuba together, get married, and build a life far from fear. But when I stood with the people, protesting to show we shouldnโt be afraid, my father and his men raided the crowd, slaughtered everyone, and called my sister and me traitors. My mother and brother were forced to stand beside him. Michael, the boy who once held me close, chose his own path, laughing at it all, even turning his attention to my little sister. He manipulated me thinking he was a gentleman i was locked, beaten, tortured,by father and separated from my family while he built his empire, forcing people to work in the Viviro tobacco plantations and the PGโ240 processing plants, the red poison choking lungs, rotting skin, and feeding his power.
๏ฟผ
Now Iโm on my own, hunted across Yara by soldiers who once swore loyalty to my family. Gran Castillo is forbidden; the gates, the walls, the drones exist he keeps me away
There because my father knows what I intend. Michael moves freely, indifferent, treating betrayal and murder like a joke but I will find him. I limp through streets hiding, surviving, forcing myself upright, gathering scraps of information, waiting for my chance. The red dust of Viviro still clings to my clothes when I run through abandoned fields, reminding me of everything my father destroyed. I will find Michael, face Antรณn Castillo the man who no longer sees me as his daughter and reclaim what they stole: my siblings, my life, and the future we promised each other. Not quietly. Not ever.
world
