Don'ts Of An Arranged Marriage

14. Don't Have Faith

SHIN

The woman's slap was reassuring, her palms weren't as calloused or merciless as the man's punch. I preferred her mode of torture to the other one. I was starving, the woman was against the idea. But lost to him. An hour more, I don't think I can keep my concious awakened.

My head falls to the side with half of my body hunching with the momentum. Her hand weaves through my hair and I was yanked back- I face him. I should've known. She never touched my hair. Shabby, tall, and grouchy since the day I had opened my eyes. I can't even recognize how many hours it had been since they took me in a hostage. 

I focus on the split, thick brown scar running down his side, from his temple to the ear lobe. His cropped hair damp with grease and dirt, he smelled of burnt coal.

"Listen here kid" he growls, a chill elopes my battered body at the raging threat, if listening was an emotion- I was doing my best to not let him think otherwise. I listened obediently "It's either your mother listens to us, or you die here"

When my mouth thirsted to swallow the fear before I could free my words out, I couldn't. They were parched. So dry that I couldn't feel the texture of my tongue. My gaze darts to the woman- unlike him, she resembled a person one would pass through the street.

Her eyes were always alert, though she kicked and thrashed me around right before each call they made to Mom so I could beg and cry as I spoke. She wasn't as cruel with the pressure she used. I looked at her for solace. My eyes hazing with each blink.

She crossed her arms, looking away. she often did that when the man was around me. Ignored initially, but later stopped him at the right time from damaging me beyond repair,

But tonight it was fruitless, it was as if I was rooting to find a pearl among a bucket of muck.

I breathed through my parted lips, the blocked nostrils too tight as a result of the constant mental breakdowns I was having.

"She won't do it" my voice trembled, an octave higher than me "What you are asking for is too big"

Abruptly I am pushed to the side, he screams in frustration as my temple hits the concrete. Soon my visions weren't vague, but blacking out altogether. For the first time, I took notice of the lady fighting with the man-

"This won't do" it came from far away, her terrified voice screaming in shock as a hand presses against the side of my head, probably to curtail the blood flow. I feel the touch, I hear the sounds. But they slip away the hastier I tried to keep my conscience alive "This kid is not the one we are here to kill"

I wanted to hear, know more of what they had in store for me. To believe that my mother will choose me over her duty.

But I know- even if she choose to do it, our life will be worse than what these two could do to me.

So I slept through it.

Slept through it similar to how I sleep through every good thing that could have happened to me.

My trainers spring against the ground as I ran, the sole bit my toes uncomfortably since the sneakers were new. I ran with the speed, propelling my stamina in a quest to vacate my mind. It was six-thirty in the morning, and the park had infrequent joggers minding their own business. With my hoodie up in order to avoid any social interactions, I fling my priority into planning my day.

I had my calendar full of what I must be doing today. But when I received a call from the alleged designer that the coffee guy had implemented me off- I realized I had entirely forgotten about him too. I can't even recall his name until the woman herself had brought it up.