9
The moment my mom mentioned the $10,000, my mind went blank, like someone had dropped a boulder on my head.
Confusion, anger, disbelief, pain–all of these emotions swirled inside me, threatening to choke me.
For a split second, I couldn’t even cry. My thoughts spiraled into a single, absurd question: Is she really my mother?
Growing up, my brother bullied me endlessly, and she never said a word. When my dad hit me, she stood by, too scared to intervene. Every year, my brother got brand–new clothes while I wore his hand–me–downs or whatever someone else didn’t want. Even when she cooked instant noodles, she’d crack an egg into his bowl and leave mine plain.
But I never blamed her. I knew she was a weak person, stuck in a tough situation. I thought, at the very least, she loved me.
Now, standing before me, holding out a glass of water, I knew this wasn’t love. She wasn’t here because she cared about me. She was here because she was scared I’d refuse to go along with their plan, and that would hurt her precious son’s interests.
A wave of helplessness washed over me. The tears finally started falling again, silent but steady.
I stared at her, my chest filled with a mix of anger, resentment, and disgust. I opened my mouth several times, wanting to curse her, to scream at her, but in the end, I just wiped my face and said nothing.
“Get out,” I muttered.
She hesitated, holding the glass of water out to me. “At least have a sip. If it’s not enough, I’ll get you more.”
“I said get out!”
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” she said quickly, setting the glass down on my desk. “But drink
the water, alright? I’ll leave it here.”
23:07 Fri, Jan 10 Gu
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“Okay, okay, I’m going,” she said quickly, setting the glass down on my desk. “But drink the water, alright? I’ll leave it here.”
She left the room, closing the door behind her.
For a long time, I just stood there, staring at the water. Then, slowly, I forced myself to keep packing.
By the time I was almost done, I reached for my phone to call a rideshare–but it wasn’t on the desk where I’d left it.
I froze, my heart sinking.
I glanced around the room, but it was nowhere to be found. Then I noticed something
else.
The door.
I rushed over and tried the handle. It wouldn’t budge.
They’d locked me in.
My hands trembled as panic rose in my chest. I took deep breaths, forcing myself to stay
calm.
The window was too high and too small to climb through. Even if I managed to squeeze out, I was on the third floor. Jumping wasn’t an option.
I was still trying to figure out what to do when I heard voices outside the door.
“She’s quiet now,” Amanda’s voice said, brimming with excitement. “Did she pass out?”
“Of course,” my brother replied, his tone smug. “She’s been glued to Mom her whole life. No way she’d suspect anything from her.”
I followed their gaze to the glass of water on my desk. My stomach turned. If I’d drunk it, who knows what would’ve happened to me.
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<
who knows what would’ve happened to me.
“Should we call Mr. Randall now?” Amanda asked.
Cold dread shot through me. I instinctively backed up, bumping into my suitcase. The loud thud echoed through the room, and the voices outside fell silent,
I froze, not even daring to breathe.
For a few long minutes, there was nothing but silence. I thought maybe they’d left.
Then I heard the faint sound of keys jingling.
My heart raced as I grabbed the heaviest thing I could find: an old, dusty dictionary from a pile of my schoolbooks in the corner.
I held my breath, raising the dictionary high above my head.
The lock clicked.
The door opened just a crack, and someone peeked inside.
I didn’t hesitate. Using every ounce of strength I had, I brought the dictionary down as
hard as I could.
“Wham!”
The figure stumbled backward, crashing to the floor.
“Tom!” Amanda shrieked.
I dropped the dictionary, shoved past Tom, who was still groaning on the floor, and bolted for the hallway.
But Amanda wasn’t about to let me go. She lunged at me, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me back.
I yanked free, adrenaline surging through me. My survival instincts kicked in, and I shoved her aside with more force than I thought I had.
23:07 Fri Jan 10
I was almost at the stairs when my brother recovered.
He grabbed my legs, tackling me to the ground. “Don’t let her get away!” he shouted. “Hold her down!”
