Love Unbreakable
Comeback Of The Adored Heiress
The Unwanted Wife's Unexpected Comeback
Moonlit Desires: The CEO's Daring Proposal
Bound By Love: Marrying My Disabled Husband
Who Dares Claim The Heart Of My Wonderful Queen?
Return, My Love: Wooing the Neglected Ex-Wife
Best Friend Divorced Me When I Carried His Baby
Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine
Married To An Exquisite Queen: My Ex-wife's Spectacular Comeback
One summer afternoon. The remaining clouds in the sky were being dyed by the late afternoon light of the early sunset and changed to a sweltering red-orange color.
However, the embellishment of the sunset seemed to be useless since, only a few minutes later, the sky abruptly darkened, putting an end to the summer's hues. Warm orange-yellow street lighting gradually switched on on the village's cement roadways. It was almost entirely black at this point, with just weak spots of light visible against the gloomy sky. Somewhere, there was the sound of a lady selling apples. It appeared that she was trying to sell the remaining to get back to her family, with her starving children at home.
I walked slowly along the street gradually putting on the lights and carrying a bag of veggies. Suddenly, I saw an apple seller. Then I swiftly turned around and said:
"Half price, please."
While the seller still was bewildered like her brain unable to comprehend anything, I sighed with an unchanged face and said:
"I will take them all, so wrap for me please."
The vendor quickly seized this opportunity, even if it meant selling all of the apples for half of their original price. She gave a brief nod.
"All well, I'll pack it all up for you." She said.
I gave her the change. If this were typical, I would not spend money on such a thing because I already have everything I need for supper. That is my mentality; I am not one to squander money on frivolous goods. But when she passed me, with just one glance, I recognized the scratch on the apple cart and the seller's wound as she moved. She must have just experienced a small accident that, although not serious, had a significant impact on sales. There were still a lot of unsold apples so I was moved.
Well, doing a good job every once in a while doesn't make me feel bad. I thought so.
''Hey, little miss.'' A tattooed uncle call me in a joking voice.
I completely ignored the call. The deeper you go into the dark alley near my neighborhood, the more members you will meet at the bottom of society. Since I moved here, every day I have to meet those bad people, but they won't even touch me with a finger cause they know that I'm not an easy kid to be bullied. If they play me once, I'll give it back 10 times so they don't even dare to poke fun at me.
After going through the shops selling things that should not be mentioned, I stopped at the old rusty old gate, so fragile that it seemed that it only needed a slight impact from a storm to collapse.
Nonetheless, the ancient gate has stayed in place for years, year after year. The gate made a cracking squeak every time it was opened, like the sound of opening the path to hell. I laughed in my head at my clumsy comparison. Anyway, my new life now compared to the "hell" of my childhood is still much better.
Since I was a child, I have seldom smiled, and even fewer times have people seen me cry. My mother used to tell me that I was a very fussy sleeper who was hard to lull to sleep. Because, after trying to lure me for a while, my mother heard me crying again as if I was unsatisfied with something. I was even an anorexic child, which made my mother feel exhausted all of the time. Although I became more understanding and obedient as I grew older, the beatings my mother gave me continued to increase day by day. Is it because my face has inherited my father's traits: delicate features, lovely eyes, and strong brows? I wonder.
''Look, you're no different than your goddamn father. Will, you also leave me to flirt with another guy ? Then you just threw it away to follow someone because they have more money, right? Is that right?"
Every time my mother made this claim, it was followed by a succession of whips slamming into the legs and back of a 5-year-old child - the age that should have been raised by parents' love. And eventually, some of the things I used to say to my mother, such as "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," were replaced by defiant silence and wide, resigned eyes.
When I was 6 years old, my mother abandoned me to marry another man. I was moved to my aunt's house, and it was a second hell here.
In the house were a useless uncle, a stingy miserly aunt, and two sassy cousins spoiled by overindulgence. Four people like to join forces to bully me.