Most fairytales begin with the soon-to-be princess. Whether she were poor or already rich, she wasn't flawed. She was beautiful, with shiny teeth and perfect skin. Yet, no matter if she were poor, the struggle was never shown. The representation for the majority of the country was put aside, because nobody liked to see struggle. They adored the easy life. The serene thoughts that came with wealth and the ability to comfortably eat dinner every night.
Most people would rather stick their head so far into the sand that they'd never be able to see their financial troubles. They'd rather pretend it wasn't there to begin with. But no matter how far they dug themselves a hole, it'd eventually fill up with water, and they'd drown. Unless they caught the leaky pipe first and fixed it before the small hiccup led to larger problems. If one could spend on only essential needs rather than wishful wants, their tight money problem felt less like a noose around their throat.
Now, as the years continued on, Sarah Johnsen, a young girl in the large town of Glendale, learned about the struggles of being financially shaky. Her mother often taught her how to be grateful, always showing how difficult it was to just keep themselves afloat. Sarah's father was a shaky man, always trembling with the next big score on his gambling addiction. His fixation began to cause a stir within his mind, and many people thought he was crazy. He'd practically be frothing at the mouth at the sight of money, hoping to get his dirty hands on the bills.
His intense craving left him penniless and jobless, forcing the weight of their debt onto Sarah's mother's shoulders. She, at the time when Mr. Johnsen lost his job, was working as a waitress at a restaurant. She'd often come home with aching feet, but with a heart full of love for her only daughter, Sarah, whom was selling small trinkets she found to her classmates at the time. Though her mother didn't know of her daughter's side business.
That night, at the dinner table, when Sarah was only 12, Mr. Johnsen sat down. His disheveled attire was the only thing Sarah could really remember him by. With a greasy face and a slim jaw, he often chewed sideways whilst he was in a conversation, his eyes wide and bulging out of his head as if the words spoken to him absolutely boggled his mind. His skin had a redness to it, his blue eyes often being clouded over with a lust for wealth.
His hands were shaking, but Sarah chalked it up to his usual trembling. Mr. Johnsen sat next to Sarah, his wife on the other side. He eyed her up and down, noticing the way her skin was beginning to acquire wrinkles from years of stress and hard work. Though, she didn't tremble the way he did. Astrid Johnsen was a strong woman who knew what she wanted. She'd wear her dirty-blonde hair up in a bun, a pencil and sometimes a pen sticking out of the mess of hair when she came back home. Astrid Johnsen was often entrusted with the money when it came to making the calls for their financial decisions.
The struggle wasn't always difficult. At times, the three person family felt as if they were the richest in the world, being comfortable with what was in their savings. Though, despite their pride in finally climbing out of the debt hole, they never spent it. They left it in there, hoping that they could keep adding onto the stacks of money they hid away. Their last serene day was sometime before Sarah's 10th birthday.
Now, it felt suffocating. A few months after things hit the fan and Astrid was robbed of all the money in her purse, the bank lost their money due to a malfunction in the system. Mr. Johnsen couldn't contain his anger and ended up in cuffs and downtown in the police station. It was a Friday, and Astrid couldn't get to him in time. He spent the weekend in a cell. But come Monday morning, he was back home with his family, their savings completely depleted and their daughter clueless.
They kept the story that things were fine, maintaining a confident facade to their daughter who already had a clue about the incoming uphill battle. Sarah noticed it in the way her mother hesitated before buying food and how the cupboards started to empty quickly, her favorite snacks nowhere to be found. She never decided to ask, afraid that it'd stir up her mother and father and cause them unhappiness. From there, it seemed, things only got worse.
YOU ARE READING
The Grean Household
Romance"It was a mistake..." She told her mother, folding her hands into each other. "Marrying him..." Her mother said nothing, she simply sat there as her only daughter stood across from her, on the verge of collapsing from bruised ribs and cracked shins...
