A Transactional Mom: I Collect Payment Ten Years Later

The day the SATS were over, I tallied up my estimated score; it was 20 points higher than my best-ever practice test. Harboreal College was practically in the bag.

When the acceptance letter arrived, Mom happened to be out. My hands trembled as I took the envelope stamped with "Harboreal College" from the mailman. I hid it at the very bottom of my backpack, then picked up the mop and started cleaning the floor as usual.

I didn't pack a single thing until the day before classes were set to start.

That day, I slammed the acceptance letter and train ticket down on the dining table.

"I'm leaving for Harboreal to start college after this meal."

Mom was cutting steak for Arnold when she heard me. Her fork jerked, and the meat dropped onto the table.

She picked up the acceptance letter in disbelief, staring at the school's name for a long time before finally looking at me.

"Harboreal? Why would you go all the way out there? Are you insane? Do you have any idea how expensive the travel fare will be? What's wrong with the state college I told you about? It's close to home, and it costs less."

"I'm going to Harboreal, and that's that."

"What about your tuition?" She sneered, certain she'd found my weak spot. "I'm not going to give you a single cent! Let's see how you manage then."

Arnold gloated from his seat. "Yeah! How are you going to pay for college with no money? You think you're Harboreal College material? Please."

I ignored him. Instead, I pulled out a heavy metal box from under my bed. Inside was a mountain of crumpled ones, fives, tens, and twenties, with only a few hundred-dollar bills mixed in.

My total savings came to 8,365 dollars and 50 cents. It was everything I'd earned since elementary school through blood, sweat, physical wounds, and my own dignity.

"When did you save all this?" Mom stared at the pile, her eyes wide.

"Starting the day you told me I had to earn every single cent myself." I stood up and slung my already-packed bag over my shoulder. "This is enough to cover my first year's tuition and my travel. I'll earn the rest myself."

"Emily!" Mom shot up from her chair, her expression livid. "Don't you dare leave! If you do, who's going to take care of us and do the chores?"

That was the funniest joke I'd ever heard. I looked at her enraged face and, for the first time, I smiled.

"Mom, you can always hire a housekeeper. But I doubt you'll find one as cheap and hardworking as me."

With that, I pulled the door open and walked out without looking back.

Behind me, Mom's voice rose into hysterical curses.

"You ungrateful brat! If you have the nerve to leave, don't you ever come back! I can't wait to watch you starve out there! Don't come crawling back to me!"

I'd just reached the bottom of the stairs, ready to rush toward the freedom ahead, when a sudden shriek erupted behind me.

"You want to leave? Fine. But leave the money behind!"

I spun around to see Mom and Arnold charging down the stairs like predators.

"I gave birth to you! Your life belongs to me, so your money belongs to me too!" Mom shrieked, lunging straight for the money-filled backpack.

Arnold circled around from the other side, reaching out to snatch the train ticket from my hand. "You think you can leave without giving us the money? Give me the ticket!"

There were only three hours left until my train departed.

They had me cornered at the stairwell entrance. Behind me was the darkness of the hallway, and ahead of me stood two thieves.

I tightened my grip on my backpack straps. As I looked at their twisted faces, only one thought remained—no one was going to stop me from leaving that day.