*PART TWO OF 'A True Indian Cinderella'*
Meeya continues her struggle as a neglected child. Hoping one day to find her true love! Farim struggles hard to battle loneliness and suffers bad things.
WILL THEY GET BACK TOGETHER OR WOULD THEY CONTINUE T...
I dragged my feet as I slowly made my way upstairs to face my mom.
When I got to her room, she was pacing back and forth, her face red with anger. "Where is my money?" she demanded. "I know you took it, you good-for-nothing thief!"
What money? Where is this coming from?
She twisted my ears, not gonna lie I was feeling excruciating pain.
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but I didn't show an ounce of it. "You sneaky little piece of shit. What are you gonna do with my $500 cash? Huh? Did she ask you to steal? That beggar from India?
I tried to explain that I hadn't taken it, that I didn't know what happened to the cash. But she wouldn't listen. She started verbally berating me, calling me horrible names and saying I was a liar and a disappointment.
I felt my face get hot with shame and my eyes started to sting with tears, but I refused to cry in front of her. I just stood there and took it, wishing I could disappear.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally stopped yelling. "You better find that money, or else," she threatened before storming out of the room.
I let out a shaky breath, my shoulders slumped in defeat. It didn't matter that I was innocent - she was never going to believe me. This was just one more way she could make me feel worthless. I wiped my eyes and trudged back to my room, dreading the next time I'd have to face her wrath.
Even after the confrontation, the tension in the house remained thick. My mom would glare at me suspiciously every time she passed by, muttering under her breath about the missing money.
I tried to avoid her as much as possible, staying in my room or finding excuses to be out of the house. But eventually, she would corner me and demand answers I didn't have.
"Why won't you just admit you took it?" she'd yell. "You're always so selfish, always taking things that don't belong to you!"
I'd plead my innocence, but she refused to listen. She was convinced I was lying, no matter how earnestly I tried to convince her otherwise.
The verbal abuse escalated. She'd call me a "worthless brat" and say I was "nothing but trouble." Sometimes she'd even get physical, shoving me or swatting at my head. I'd flinch every time, afraid she might really hurt me.
Through it all, I felt powerless. No matter what I said or did, I couldn't change her mind. She had decided I was guilty, and that was that. I started to question my own memory, wondering if maybe I had taken the money without realizing it.
The whole ordeal left me feeling anxious, depressed, and completely defeated. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, but my mom's relentless accusations made me start to doubt myself. I just wanted it all to be over.
The tension in the house had become absolutely suffocating. With my mom's relentless accusations hanging in the air, I felt like I was walking on eggshells, terrified of setting her off again.
