A MARRIAGE NEITHER WANTED

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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Jasmine's P.o.v

My eyes fluttered open and my gaze met with the familiar sight of our small, cluttered apartment. The peeling paint and worn furniture seemed to close in around me, a constant reminder of our struggles. I rubbed the sleep off my eyes and tossed off the thin blanket. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and my feet dangled in the air.

The cold floorboards creaked beneath my weight as I stood up, stretching my tired muscles. Working two shifts a day ain't no joke! I shuffled to the kitchen, my eyes scanning the empty shelves. There was nothing to eat, no food to prepare for the day. I opened the fridge, and the hollow interior stared back at me like an empty promise.

Luckily, the bread I had brought home from my last shift would be doing justice to that as I remember bringing some.

With a sigh, I closed the fridge door and leaned against the counter. This is my life now, our life- a constant struggle to make ends meet, to put food on the table, and to keep a good roof over my head. Life was sure really good before my father's demise, but the sound of my mother's labored breathing at the hospital the last time is a harsh reminder of my now responsibility- a responsibility I would stop at nothing to carry.

My mother had been diagnosed with a terminal heart- disease for months and her condition keeps getting worse by the day. The doctor's words echoed in my head and then it dawned on me how little a time I have left to save my mother or risk her being dead. A situation I don't ever think I can accept – losing the only remaining family I have left.

As I head back to my room, I stumbled upon the magazine Rachel gave me last night and couldn't help, but reach for it. Rachel is my best friend and co-worker at the confectionary store where I work. I had told her about my plight one time and after everything, she introduced me to a magazine with an upcoming auction event.

Although the auction takes place every month ending and I had gone the last time, but changed my mind even before reaching the venue.

I swallowed the lump in my throat at the thought of what Rachel had told me. "There's no way I'm doing that" I said to myself. "It's disgusting. I'm not a commodity."

As I read through the magazine, I couldn't help but fix my eyes on the price before me. The figures danced on the page, taunting me with their simplicity.

$200,000

And that is even on an average. It is a really staggering amount, the exact amount I need for my mother's surgery. But it came with a steep price- my innocence.

I felt a wave of disgust wash over me. How could I even consider such thing? But thinking of my dying mother at the hospital, I knew I had no choice. Moreover, the medical bills just keeps piling up, and I had exhausted all other options. I had sold everything of value, taken out loans, and even begged for help from some few friends. I even had to work two shifts per day most days of the week.

But it wasn't enough.

With cold hands, I looked at the page once again, and I felt a sense of resignation all over me.

Unsure of what to do, I reach for my phone. I held it, dialed the agent's number from the magazine and paused.

I shed tears at the thought of my father, life was very easy and good prior to his demise and I and my mother never lacked anything. He died in a car crash according to my mother and everything just seemed to happen so fast, but I was very young to understand that.

I took a deep breath with my eyes closed and it took for the knock on the door to open them. I reach for it and wasn't surprise to see what I saw.

"Hello, Mr. Pedro." I let out an awkward smile, knowing what he is here for.

"You promised to pay up today, Jasmine. The day is almost over and I haven't received a single call or message from you." Mr. Pedro yelled at my face making me fidget a little.

I gained composure and finally managed to speak. "I know Mr. Pedro and I am really sorry. I just..."

"No more excuses. You either evacuate the apartment in seven days or pay up." He interrupted and screamed at my face before finally leaving.

I slammed the door and reach straight for my phone. Without any further hesitation, I called the agent's number showing my interest. My body went numb as I hung up the phone knowing I had made a decision that would change my life forever.

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