The Last Tear

Seeing Tyler laugh out loud, Roger finally relaxed as he pulled the ID back.

That was when I remembered something that crushed what little hope I had left.

After I came back home, Roger had cut off my waist-length hair while I was asleep.

My parents had also changed my name to Bambi.

Back then, Ollie never allowed me to cut my hair. He said long hair made me look like a little princess.

My foster parents had named me Mia, saying I was their precious girl.

But to someone like Tyler, a low-level enforcer, the only thing he really knew was that his boss's foster sister was called Mia. He had only seen me from a distance a few times.

And men like him were never allowed to look at me too closely.

Once, a small-time boss stared at me for a few seconds too long, and Ollie gouged out both his eyes.

After that, no other men in the compound dared to look me straight in the eye again.

So Tyler only remembered my name and my signature long hair. There was no way he could recognize me now.

When I realized this, despair sank deep into my chest.

Roger flattered Tyler a little more, then hung up the call.

Right away, my parents asked, "They're good for the 40 thousand, right?"

Roger grunted, then turned his cold eyes on me. "You never should've been born 18 years ago. You were nothing but a leech stealing my nutrients in the womb, and you almost killed Mom in childbirth. You owe us, and now, it's time to pay it back."

Bitterness filled me.

It was only recently that I realized my parents had always hated me, just because my mother nearly died giving birth to me, and Roger had been weak and sickly after sharing the womb with me.

To them, I was nothing but an unlucky burden.

So when I was born, my mother let the traffickers take me without lifting a finger to stop them.

And yet, all these years, I kept clinging to the hope that my real family had never given up searching for me.

I thought they would love me the way normal families on TV loved their kids.

So when I finally escaped the compound, the first thing I did was go to the media and the police, begging them to help me find my parents.

I never realized that when they welcomed me back with smiles, it wasn't because they wanted me.

It was only because of public pressure.

They were the ones who had abandoned me in the first place.

Lying on the ground with tears streaming down my face, I saw my mother frown.

"Right. If it weren't for this useless girl, Roger wouldn't have been born weak. And if it weren't for her, I wouldn't have nearly bled to death in childbirth. She's nothing but a curse!"

My father joined in, shouting insults at me.

I forced myself to speak through the tears, "I don't want anyone to get hurt. That's why I'm telling you to let me go. If you take me there, someone's gonna die!"

They froze, then glanced at each other before breaking into laughter.

"Way to jinx yourself. But it's not certain whether you die or not. So, I suggest that you be smart, and maybe you'll keep your life."

My father cursed under his breath and yanked a black hood down over my head.

I wanted to tell them they had it all wrong.

When I said someone was going to die, I wasn't talking about myself.

I meant them.

But staring at this cruel and heartless family, I decided I wouldn't try to save them anymore.

This time, they could experience for themselves what it felt like to live a fate worse than death.