Across the street, a young couple watched their child disappear into the school gates, sealing their tender farewell with a kiss. A pang of envy shot through me as I observed the scene, a stark contrast to my own reality.

The boy's cheek, flushed with the warmth of his parents' affection, was not the source of my envy. It was the promise of a formal education, the opportunity to explore the world within the confines of a classroom. My own early schooling had been a fleeting taste, a tantalizing glimpse of a life I yearned for.

"Are you seriously daydreaming in the middle of this mess?"

The idyllic image of a classroom vanished as my aunt's angry voice pierced through my reverie. Her stance, her expression, spoke volumes of her frustration. She had repeated this countless times before.

"No, Aunt Martha," I replied, trying to sound reasonable. She thrust a broom into my hands, and I caught it before it could fall into the muddy ground. She stormed away, muttering curses under her breath.

Taking a moment to catch my breath, I surveyed the damage caused by the previous night's rain to my aunt's fruit and vegetable shop. My jeans were already half-submerged in the mud.

A bell rang from across the street, and my head snapped towards the school building. The only joy I derived from working at the shop was watching the school opposite it.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus on my task.

An hour later, the shop was restored to its former glory. My aunt, who rarely bothered to hire staff, expected me to handle all the work. I resented her decision to force me to drop out of school. The small fruit shop was barely manageable for one person.

As I glanced around the shop, I noticed the dwindling supply of oranges. With a groan, I put down my broom and headed towards the storage room to restock.

Just as I emerged from the storage room with a basket of oranges, a bell rang, signaling a customer's arrival. I placed the basket on the counter and stood behind it.

"Good morning," I greeted the customer, adding a cheerful tone to my voice as I wiped my hands on my apron.

The tall man, shrouded in a black hoodie, met my gaze with his dark eyes. He said nothing, simply observing me with his hands buried in his pockets.

Ignoring the growing unease within me, I continued, "What fruit would you like? Any preference?" I scanned the shop, hoping to encourage him to look around. Instead, he continued to stare at me.

Finally, his intense gaze shifted towards the fruits, only to return to me a moment later.

"Where's your boss?" he growled, removing his hands from his pockets and leaning towards me. His large, muscular hands sent a shiver down my spine. "Where is he?"

"He?" I faltered, my legs trembling slightly beneath me. "Sorry, but my boss is a she."

He seemed taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

"Take this," he said, pointing towards me. I accepted it and he withdrew his hand. "Give this to her." I nodded, curious to see what was inside. I made a mental note to peek at it once the intimidating man had left. "Tell her, two days." With that, he turned to leave.

Two days?

"Wait... excuse me? Two days for what?" I called after him, knowing I was treading on thin ice.

His broad shoulders remained turned as he strode out the door. "They'll understand."

They?

Deciding to put it out of my mind, I shrugged and carried the basket of oranges to the shade.

My stomach rumbled, and I glanced at my food box. I would eat after... the bell rang again, signaling another customer.

"Good morning," I greeted the older lady with a warm smile. I set down the empty basket and approached her to assist.

"Good morning, dear," she replied, offering a warm smile that made my heart melt. I returned her smile. She picked up a small basket and began selecting items.

As I waited behind the counter, I watched her fill her basket. Taking note of each item, I calculated the total.

"Thirty-seven dollars and eighty-five cents," I informed her.

She nodded and opened her purse, while I wrapped her items. I handed her the change and thanked her as she left.

Taking a sip of water, I picked up the folded sheet. It was stapled. Sighing, I put it back in my pocket.

Time flew by, and soon it was time for school to let out. My favorite part of the day.

I stood near the door, watching the students pour out. Cars honked, laughter filled the air, and a few sad faces could be seen. It was fascinating to observe such a range of emotions from a single vantage point.

A girl my age glanced at the shop, causing me to hide slightly. It was pathetic. She nudged her friends towards the shop, suggesting they buy something, but they all shook their heads. A car pulled up in front of them, and a boy climbed out and walked straight to one of the girls. He leaned in to kiss her.

I wanted to poke them.

I had never been kissed, but that wasn't how I had imagined it.

The bell rang again, this time announcing my aunt's arrival. She looked exhausted.

It pained me that she had no children and had been rejected twice from adoption. But I couldn't blame the adoption home. No sane person would give a drug-addicted couple a child to adopt.

I didn't know how my parents had died, and we never spoke about them in the house. I had been living with my aunt since I was three. It was unlikely that I would even recognize a picture of my parents.

"Anya, bring me a glass of water and my medication," Martha said, entering the storage room.

I followed her into the storage room, grabbing the items she requested. I placed the water and lung reliever in front of her.

I watched her take the medication and let out a relieved sigh.

I counted the seconds in my head, waiting for the right moment to hand over the sheet.

"If you're done standing around, get your butt back outside," Martha muttered, raising her head to look at me.

"You had a visitor," I began, catching her attention. "A tall, bulky man. He gave me this for you." I pulled the sheet from my pocket and handed it to her.

Trying to ignore the fear on her face, I watched her nod.

"Anything else?" she asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, he said two days." I hoped she would understand and not ask for more details.

She nodded again. "You can go now." And I left.

After closing the shop that evening, I picked out some vegetables to cook at home. I had grown up a vegetarian, not by choice.

As I opened the door to our apartment, I walked straight into the kitchen to drop off the vegetables. I heard a loud crash of breaking glass. Panic surged through me.

Racing towards the sound, I saw Aunt Martha standing near a broken glass cup. It had slipped from her fingers.

But the scene behind her was the real reason for her shock.

Uncle Richard lay on Martha's bed, passed out with a woman beside him. They appeared to have overdosed on something.

I knew Aunt Martha's reaction wasn't solely due to the half-naked woman lying beside her husband, but rather the empty substance bag on the bed.

"You fucking moron!" she finally unleashed her anger in a scream. "We're in huge trouble, and you're dragging us even deeper!"

The terrifying scream barely stirred Uncle Richard. He was too deep in his sleep.

She stormed out of the room and returned a moment later with a jug of water. Moving to a safe distance, I watched her douse Uncle Richard and the woman with it.

Time for drama.

Recognizing that staying would only involve me in the situation, I decided to head back to the kitchen and prepare dinner.

The half-naked woman dashed past the kitchen door towards the front door. Thankfully, it was nighttime.

After eating the dinner I had prepared, I lingered in the living room, lost in thought. I would be eighteen in two days. I wondered how it would feel. Not that I had felt anything special about my previous birthdays.

Yawning, I stretched and stood to go to my room. Carrying Aunt Martha and her husband's food, I walked cautiously towards their room.

As I reached the door, I hesitated when I heard them whispering.

"It's either her or us, and you know that," Richard said.

"But she's all we've got," Aunt Martha argued.

"She was never ours," Uncle Richard cut her off. "It will be for a good price. If we die, she'll be taken as repayment anyway."

The tray trembled in my grip as I stood still.

I had grown up on the streets, I knew what it was like. I understood the behavior of the people, and I certainly knew what 'repayment' meant in that context.

Steadying my racing breath, I quietly retreated to the kitchen to drop off the tray.

Back in my room, my heart pounded against my chest. Despite being sleepy earlier, not an ounce of sleepiness remained.

I glanced at the clock. Eleven minutes to five in the morning. I couldn't believe I hadn't slept a wink.

I felt exhausted, my muscles aching. But the adrenaline coursing through me was enough to keep me going.

Grabbing my crossbody bag hanging on the wall, I packed three pieces of clothing. I lay on the ground and crawled under my bed to pull out a box. Carefully opening the box, I counted my life savings. A total of $560 was missing from my $3550.

Knowing they were fast asleep at this hour, I tied my long black hair into a ponytail and tiptoed out of the house.

Cold wind whipped through my bones despite the cardigan covering me. My destination wasn't decided yet, but for now, I was heading straight to the church. My aunt would never suspect I would be there.

As I walked under the dark sky, feeling suddenly fearless, I sensed movement not far behind me. My braveness instantly evaporated.

My nervous heart began to race with each step I took. I could hear the low footsteps of the person following me.

Playing it cool, I continued walking at a normal pace. Until I walked under a tree and the leaves rustled, shattering my last hint of bravery.

With impulsive fear, I yelped and began to run, turning my head to see if someone was following. My grip tightened around my crossbody bag.

Someone was following. His footsteps were now very noticeable.

Oh my- Jesus!

My foot caught in a pothole, causing me to lose my balance. I quickly stood up, ignoring the pain in my leg and continuing to run with all my strength.

I didn't want to die.

My heart was pounding so fast, I was sure I would have a heart attack if I was startled.

I ran towards the church, which was now in sight. Turning my head to see if the creep was still following, I was relieved to see no one behind me.

Overcome with... ugh!

A sudden movement caused me to lose my balance again. My body landed on the ground, facing my stomach. Tears pricked my eyes as I blinked. Pain shot through my body.

"Oh God..." I whispered, wishing the throbbing pain would disappear.

I felt a foot near my face, a presence behind me. I mustered the energy to shout for help, but he was too quick for me. He covered my mouth with a soft cloth.

My feet struggled to get away from the suffocating feeling. That's when I heard him mutter to himself.

"Didn't take you for a wild one." It almost sounded like a chuckle. "Thank God Richard warned me..."

That's when I felt my consciousness fade away.