Chapter 2
But my father and mother always ignored it.
Soon, my mother pulled some strings and got me a job at a meatpacking plant, telling me to go earn money.
“Work hard and send the money home on time. Isabelle is in high school now–her expenses are huge.”
Every word out of her mouth was about Isabelle. She didn’t spare a glance for me, even though my face was pale, my period had just started, and a patch of blood had soaked through my pants.
The work at the meat plant was exhausting, but there was a small library filled with old textbooks and discarded books.
During breaks, I would rush there to study on my own.
Some of the older workers had been to high school. Seeing how young I was and how eager to learn, they were happy to tutor me. Some even tried to help me get in touch with a local high school.
I sent most of my wages back home and saved a little for myself, dreaming about going back to school.
But that day, burning up with fever, I was late sending the money. My parents stormed into the meatpacking plant, screaming, hitting–no mercy, no
pause.
Coworkers tried to intervene. In the chaos, my books spilled open and the cash tucked inside fluttered to the floor.
Then came my father’s boot, a vicious kick straight to the gut.
“You ungrateful brat! Hiding money from us? I’ll beat you to death!”
My mother tore my textbooks to shreds.
“You think you can study? You think you’re good enough for school? You’re trash!”
I knelt on the floor, begging her not to do it. “Mom, please, don’t tear them. These books aren’t even mine. I worked so hard just to borrow them…” My father slapped me hard across the face.
“Still talking back? Your mother can do whatever she want to you! And you if you’ve got money, you should be using it right, not wasting it on this crap!”
They ripped up my books and threw them into a bucket of water, stomping them down with their feet.
They turned my dorm room upside down and took every cent I had. Not a
Mingle coin was left.
Before they left, my mother spat coldly, “Since you have so much free time, go get another job. Isabelle has plenty
I had nothing left.
of tutoring expenses.”
While my parents poured everything into Isabelle’s future, not once did they stop to think about how I was supposed to eat or clothe myself without even a penny in my pocket.
Since I couldn’t return the books I’d borrowed, I had to find another part–time job to pay
My second job was at a construction site, doing grunt work.
It was even harder than the meatpacking plant.
for them.
One time, a bucket full of cement was too heavy. I was already weak from my period, and my body gave out.
The bucket fell, and wet concrete splashed all over my leg. The foreman shook his head and told me kindly I shouldn’t keep working there.
I dropped to my knees, crying. “Please, I can do this. Just give me another chancel
He sighed and tried to help me up, but the concrete had already started to harden around my foot. They had to break it off with a hammer, and my foot was injured in the process.
The foreman still had to let me go, but he gave me an extra fifty dollars and told me to find a pack doctor to treat my foot and to buy something good strengthen my weak body.
Limping as I walked, I clutched that hard–earned money. It was my birthday, and I wanted to treat myself.
So I stepped into a diner and ordered the cheapest plate of pasta.
That was when my father, mother, and Isabelle walked in.
Chapter 2
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GoodShort
They were just out for a normal dinner, but they hadn’t expected to run into me.
My father flew into a rage. “You’re hiding money again? You little bastard!”
My mother grabbed my hair and started crying. “So now you’ve grown up and have money to eat out while your parents starve?”
They stood there pristine. Isabelle in her frilly dress and ribbon, looking every inch the princess.
And then there was me: sprawled on the ground, hair tangled, drowning in hand–me–downs two sizes too small. My shoes were splitting at the seams, the scabs on my feet torn open–blood seeping into the frayed fabric.
Still, I clung tightly to my plate of pasta and kept eating like my life depended on it.
It was delicious. The best thing I had ever tasted. For that brief moment, it made me forget all the pain.
I saw Isabelle wrinkle her nose and turn her head away in disgust.
Seeing me like that made them even angrier. My mother tried to pry my hands away, and my father grabbed the plate and slammed it down on my
head.
“Eat! Eat all you want!”
They stormed off with Isabelle, but not before my mother dug through my pockets and took the fifty dollars.
Cream sauce, soaked my hair and slowly dripped down my face.
I stared blankly at their retreating figures.
They looked so much like a real family.
The diner owner didn’t take my money. He even offered to bring me a new plate of pasta.
I shook my head and hobbled out of the diner.
Outside, a light drizzle began to fall.
On the screen, my silhouette slowly dissolved into the rain.
The jury of a hundred sat in hushed silence. My parents shifted slightly, avoiding the gaze of the werewolf judge, while Isabelle kept her head down, looking at no one.
Chapter 2
