My mother loved a fairy tale life.
She has cancer. So what?

I cried—no, sobbed the night before, as she took my savings once again to head to the pub. Jonas, my six-year-old brother, wailed heartbreakingly, watching me beg and plead.

That was our week's ration amount.

As she left, leaving another gushing scar on my chest with her words, I looked around our beaten-up, rotting studio apartment. It used to be a small luxurious home once. If by definition, luxury meant food and water.

"YOU ARE THE MOST USELESS PIECE OF SHIT THAT CAME OUT OF MY WOMB!" She spat on me.

The same evening, someone knocked on my door. Jonas was on my lap. He woke up as I jolted at the sudden sound. When was the last time we had any visitors? It wasn't until our dad passed away in a car crash. Our mother, who was supposed to take care of us, came home one day bruised and covered in someone else's blood. It was our father's.

"Stay here, Jonas," I said, heading for the baseball bat. Jonas knew the drill, to hide himself under the rotting dinner table. Our mother? Nowhere to be found since last night.

I was scared, to say the least. Junkies came knocking on our door all the time. Even beat it down once or twice. Who wouldn't? Especially after knowing two young-looking women with fresh holes were waiting for action?

That was exactly what was on their mind.

With a sonorous gulp of fear in my throat resounding in my heart, I opened the door with a powerful swing.

Scared at my posture and what I was holding, my classroom teacher and the security guard stood behind the school counsellor.

"Oh," I put the bat down, making them sigh in relief.

"You should install a peephole." The useless security guard said, tucking his gun back.

"You think?" I retorted.

"Rachel Blackwell...this is the third visit from our side this month. You do have to pay for your tuition fees at the campus, honey. We're working on getting you funds but—"

"I don't need the funds." I cut off the school counsellor. Her face shrunk.

"Why, dear? May I ask?"

"I'm not coming to school anymore. I don't belong there." I said, tears brimming in my eyes.

Just two days back, I was quietly walking in the hallway. I imagined myself as a scared dog with her tail between her legs. Just then, someone shot an egg straight into my head.

The yolk mixed with drops of my blood as it cascaded down my brown, frizzy hair.

I cried.
Silently.

That wasn't the first time. But I could make it my last. And hence, stopped myself from getting educated.

"Please get out. Withdraw my application and burn my previous certificates if need be." I said with anger, "No one wants me."

And I shut the door on their faces. It felt nice.

"It's okay, Jonas." I said to my little angel. He emerged from the table with a smile and a rotten piece of apple to play with. Gosh...we needed a deep clean. But how? We didn't have a broom either. Our mother threw up on it and I had no choice but to throw it away.

*Knock, knock*

Jonas and I paused in our movements. I gestured him to quietly go back down.

*knock, knock, knock*

More impatient than before, more louder.

I turned around, picked up the baseball bat again.

Life was unpredictable without a peephole. And I prayed it was our mother.

Guess the gods listened to me this time.

As the door flung open...my mother was seen. But she wasn't alone. Three tall, bulky men in suits stood around her.

And a man, holding her by the knife to her neck stood right behind her.

My eyes widened, "Do not." I warned, clutching my bat tighter.

"Can you bat deflect seven rounds of gun firing, honey? You see, each of us have at least two guns. Except for me." He replaced one with a knife. Fuck...

"Honey, let him in." My mother chuckled in a daze. I snapped.

"Don't call me HONEY!"
They all chuckled. I felt so little. Embarrassed. Angry.

They occupied my couch, let my mother crawl all around the dirty floor in discomfort. She was about to throw up in few moments.

"Nice house." The thinner, older looking man said.

"Fuck you." I clutched Jonas closer to me. The man gave his sheathed knife to Jonas. One look from him told me I'd be in trouble if I didn't let him do it.

"So, as you can already guess, your mother's in deep shit." He said, having no respect or whatsoever.

"She's taking substances and going around with men. So what?" I asked. "It's my family matter."

Honestly...did she involve herself with a mob or something? Who are these people? And why was he chuckling at me?

"Did you not tell her, mother? She's got a debt to fill~" the thin old man said. My brows furrowed.

"Mom...what is he talking about?"

"Ugh...I know..." She said.

"What!?" I wanted to fling a punch, but I knew I couldn't. Guns over fists.

"Mom, are you kidding me!? We owe them!? How much...?"

"8 million dollars, honey." His mocking voice replied. My blood went so cold, I thought I was dead for the moment.

"W-What...?"

"You didn't even tell her, ol' lady? That's cold..." The stupid man with a knife chuckled. Folding his leg over his knee, he continued berating,

"Since your mother isn't worth that much now, the clause clearly states one thing," He says,

"W-Which is?"

"Our CEO, the most handsome bachelor of town, gets to marry you." I frowned.

"Fuck no." But what was the point of protesting?

"Before you stick with your rebellion, let me tell you, our little CEO is a good-natured man. He won't hurt you-"

"As if I'm going to believe that. Get out of my house. This instant. Or I'm calling the police."

He wasn't amused at that. Then, with a sigh, he said,

"Get her. Please." It was so sarcastic. I felt so, so powerless.

One swift move, the back of my knees were folded and I was put on the ground like a rabid dog. Under the weight of that man, I thought I was gonna break all my fragile bones. And the man on top of me? He was enjoying this. Way too much. I could feel everything. I was disgusted.

Why wasn't I born as a man?

Jonas started wailing loudly. He sure hated his sister pinned down with arms held to her back, the weight basically crushing her.

"I'm taking your little puppet, mommy dearest." He said, tears streamed down my face. I knew I couldn't change my fate henceforth.

"Ugh...I don't even want that kid. She's so troublesome." My mother rolled on the floor, laughing.

That right there...it broke my heart.

"Mom..." Last resort, and I expected some humility from my own mother. Yet all this time, she thought I was the burden.

Through my sadness, the man crouched to say,

"Your elite marriage is schemed for tomorrow, you freak. The CEO likes his bride to be pretty. After all, he's being forced, too." He laughed.

He freaking LAUGHED!

The world was too cruel. I hated it.

And I hated this marriage even more.

But...what else could I have done?

And there was a part of me that believed I could escape from this hell to face a new one.

God was giving me a choice,

So I picked my poison...just to get away from my cruel mother.

I'm sorry, Jonas...