One Cent a Day: My Mom's Anti‑Degenerate Plan

I spent the next few days in pain, and my energy levels were at an all-time low. Since I hardly checked in with Mom, I only managed to earn a few dollars each day.

Nonetheless, Mom didn't seem to care or wonder whether a few dollars were even enough for a student's daily expenses.

I suddenly found it all so pointless.

After that realization, I began checking in less and less each day. I would survive even with just a dinner roll a day anyway. Whenever I got too hungry, I would drink some water. A dollar could buy me a big bottle that could then last me a week.

I started looking for odd jobs around the campus to do, asking for food or water in exchange. Surprisingly, I even managed to gain some weight, and my heart felt inexplicably lighter.

However, Mom grew progressively more anxious as the number of times I checked in dipped lower and lower. She went from soothing me to tearfully complaining, and finally, to threatening me, "Charlotte Sander, if you don't listen to me, karma will come for you!"

Still, I ignored her.

One afternoon, while eating a sandwich a classmate had given me, I reached into my drawer to feel for my bracelet out of habit.

It was gone!

I immediately broke out in cold sweat. That bracelet was the only memento my father had left for me.

Dad had loved me deeply. Back when he was still alive, we were quite poor. However, one day, I noticed one of the older villagers wearing a gorgeous pair of silver earrings. I told him that I wanted a pair too.

Mom scolded me for being inconsiderate, but Dad simply placated her with a smile. Then, seeing that I had burst into tears at Mom's scolding, he quickly tried to cheer me up.

Unexpectedly, the next day, Dad had a silver bracelet made for me. "My precious daughter deserves the best that this world has to offer. If I can't provide that for you, that only means that I'm a useless father."

It wasn't until later that I learned that Dad had spent all his savings on me for that bracelet, and he went three whole months without a single smoke because of it.

It was the only thing he had left for me that truly belonged to me. Every time I was upset, I would stroke the bracelet and instantly feel like he was right there beside me. The thought always brought me a great deal of comfort.

Yet, that bracelet was now missing.

I was so panicked that my entire body trembled. My mind was blank, and I didn't know what I should do.

A few seconds later, I realized that there was a surveillance camera at the back of the classroom. Thus, I went to the Student Affairs office in tears to ask for access to the surveillance footage.

At the professor's request, everyone was asked to return to the classroom. It was a Sunday, so everyone was less than happy to be called back.

I entered the classroom after the Mr. Adam Whitclaw, the Student Affairs staff member, still crying as panic rampaged through me.

Mr. Whitclaw began sternly, "Ms. Charlotte Sander here says that her silver bracelet is missing. Whichever one of you accidentally took it, please return it to her."

Upon hearing that, my classmates were even more annoyed and spoke up loudly.

"Who knows who took her lousy bracelet?"

"Just what century are we living in now? Who would steal a silver bracelet?"

"Mr. Whitclaw, Charlotte is so poor that she can't even procure more than a few dollars each day. Where did she even get the money to buy a silver bracelet? Could it be that she stole it?" one of them asked impatiently,

Mr. Whitclaw was visibly surprised at those words. He then turned to me to ask again, "Did you really lose a silver bracelet? What does it look like?"

An indescribable feeling rose in me, bringing a flush to my cheeks.

Nonetheless, I forced the tears back and began describing the bracelet, "It's a small silver bracelet meant for a child, with a pair of fish carved into it. It was a memento my father left for me, so if any of you have seen it, please give it back. I'm begging you!"

Silence descended upon the classroom, but still, no one stepped forward.

After a moment, the guy who suspected me of stealing the bracelet muttered, "Who knows if that's even true? Maybe she's in desperate need of money now, and that's why she made all this up. Why not just call her mother and ask about it?"

Mr. Whitclaw nodded before stepping outside to call my mom.

A short while later, he returned to fix me with a dark expression. "Ms. Sander, there's nothing shameful about being poor, but to be dishonest is another matter? I asked your mom about the bracelet, and she said that you don't have such a thing."