Sunlight streamed through the curtain crack, warming my face. I slowly opened my eyes to the familiar cries of my mother, Erica. In an instant, memories of the moments before I lost consciousness flooded back. Blinking, I realized I had returned to the day after that fateful incident.
Erica and I despised Bobby, a man prone to violent outbursts. He would lash out mercilessly, venting his frustrations on us, yet he refused to use his strength for work, choosing instead to live off others.
I recalled the day I fled with Erica from Bobby. I had warned Erica repeatedly that contacting Bobby would expose our whereabouts. I promised to gather the money for our tickets to leave the city the next day, believing that if we could manage the night, escape would be possible.
But when I returned from buying food, I found Bobby waiting at the hotel room door, a bloodied stick in hand. He glared at me, swinging the stick and nearly knocking me out.
"How dare you take your mom and try to run away!" Bobby growled, his voice like a devil's.
I fell to the floor, curled in pain, and looked up at Erica, only to see a shy smile instead of fear.
"Honey, we're just playing a game. We love you. How could we leave you?" Erica said.
Her words sliced through my heart like a knife.
Bobby's assault soon sent me into unconsciousness.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, and Erica was nowhere to be found. I knew my mother had once again succumbed to Bobby's threats without a fight, never considering my fate when faced with Bobby's wrath.
Disheartened, I decided against saving my mother. She likely wanted to leave Bobby but was too weak to resist, prioritizing her own safety over my well-being.
Determined, I vowed to change my fate and refuse to let my toxic family dictate my life. For now, I needed to focus on my studies to pave the way for my future. To do this efficiently, I realized I had to live on campus and distance myself from home, a difficult task given Bobby's likely opposition.
Instead of giving up, I approached my teacher, Chris Gibson, for help. I explained that I needed an environment where I could concentrate on my studies.
"Raya, did something happen at home?" Chris asked, concern etched on his face.
Taking a deep breath, I replied quietly, "Yes. That's why I can't focus on my studies at home."
Chris met my determined gaze and nodded. "I'll do my best to help, but we'll need your parents' permission."
Soon, Bobby was invited to the school for a discussion. He was greeted by the headmaster, Tanner Dixon. "Mr. Khan, your daughter wants to live on campus for a better environment for her studies. We recognize her potential given her straight-A record and need your approval."
Bobby frowned. "Studying? She can do that at home. Why does she need to live in the school?"
"Mr. Khan, students who live on campus have more access to resources. They can immerse themselves in the library and seek guidance from teachers whenever needed. Your daughter is excelling. If she continues, she could have the chance to attend a top university," Tanner explained patiently.
After a moment of silence, Bobby reluctantly agreed. "Fine, but I expect you to guarantee her safety."
I sighed with relief. This was just the beginning, but I had a long way to go before I could finally break free from my twisted family.
My life improved significantly after I moved onto campus. Finally free from my family's shadow, I could focus on my studies. Rising at five in the morning and working until midnight, I immersed myself in my studies. The pressure of my intense study routine paid off, and my grades skyrocketed.
My daily schedule revolved around studying and a part-time job, the earnings from which covered my basic living expenses. To save money and stay focused, I even stopped using my mobile phone.
Before long, I became well-known at school for my outstanding academic performance.
One night, while working on homework in the dorm, my roommate, Olive Grant, entered with a container.
"Raya, are you studying again?" Olive asked, concern in her voice. "You're always working so hard. Aren't you tired?"
I looked up and smiled. "I'm okay. I'm used to it. What's in the container? It smells amazing!"
"It's steak my mother cooked. Want to try some?" Olive offered, handing me a piece.
I took a bite. "This is delicious! Thank you!"
Olive sat beside me. "Raya, do you have any secrets for your straight-A record?"
I replied earnestly, "For me, studying hard is my only way out right now, and that thought motivates me. I genuinely enjoy learning, but sometimes I worry I'm not working hard enough."
Olive nodded thoughtfully. "I guess I need to learn from you. Let's work hard together!"
I smiled, knowing I had found true friendship and support in this new environment.
As the days passed, I gradually adjusted to life at boarding school. Not only did I excel academically, but I also showcased my talents in various club activities. However, my peaceful existence was short-lived, as new challenges emerged one after another.
One afternoon, while studying in the library, I received an unexpected phone call from Chris.
"Raya, I have great news! You've been selected to represent the school in the science competition!" Chris exclaimed.
I was taken aback. "Really? That's fantastic! Thank you!"
"Your grades earned you this opportunity. No need to thank me. Just get ready. The competition is next week," Chris replied.
After hanging up, I felt a surge of excitement mixed with pressure. I knew this was a rare opportunity and immediately intensified my study efforts.
Three days before the competition, Erica quietly arrived at the school, wearing sunglasses, searching for me.
While other parents visited their children with supplies, Erica's presence made me uneasy.
"Raya, why didn't you answer my calls? I looked for you on the second floor, but they said your classroom was on the third floor," Erica said.
My mind was on my studies and didn't pay attention to Erica's words.
"Raya, can you take me away?" Erica added.
The bruise on Erica's face jolted me back to reality. "Does it hurt?" I asked.
Erica nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Raya, you're all I have. Just run away with me, please."
I fought back tears as I replied, "Do you know what this upcoming competition means to me?"
The competition was crucial for me, a key step in my grand plan.
But Erica dismissed my concerns. "What's so important about this competition? Can't you just take another one?"
When I didn't respond, Erica grabbed my hand, trying to lead me out of the school.
"Mom, you want to escape from my dad, but do you have any money?" I calmly asked.
"Yeah. Your grandmother left you fifty thousand, and I have the bank card," Erica replied casually.
I couldn't hold back my tears at the mention of my grandmother. I took the bank card from Erica and tucked it into my pocket. Then, I discreetly texted my father. "Dad, my mom came to school for me, saying she wants to take me away. Please come and get her."
Bobby arrived quickly. Ignoring the crowd, he grabbed Erica by the hair and dragged her away. "Still wanting to run away after I've scolded you twice? Looks like you need a tougher lesson!"
My classmates gathered around me, concerned. "Raya, is your dad abusing your mom?"
I shook my head, biting my lip as tears welled in my eyes. "My dad says my mom is mentally ill and that she sneaked out. He's so worried that he didn't choose his words carefully."
My classmates, unaware of the truth and fooled by my acting, looked at me with sympathy.
Finally, the day of the competition arrived.
I arrived at the venue with other contestants. Facing competitors from across the country, I felt an overwhelming wave of nerves. However, as the competition began, my anxiety faded, replaced by confidence.
After the event, I met Chris.
"How did it go?" Chris asked, concern etched on his face.
I smiled. "I think I did well."
"That's great to hear! I believe in you," Chris encouraged.
A few days later, the results were announced, and my name appeared on the winners' list. I won second prize, bringing honor to my school and opening new doors for my future.
Upon returning to school, my classmates surrounded me.
"Raya, you're incredible! Your hard work paid off!" Olive exclaimed.
I smiled and replied, "Thank you for your support. I couldn't have done it without you."
Chris approached and patted my shoulder. "Raya, you've made us all proud. You have a bright future ahead!"
The next day, I packed my bags and returned home. The living room was a disaster, littered with broken teacups.
Erica emerged from the bedroom, her hair unevenly chopped by Bobby, hanging messily on her shoulders. "Are you happy seeing me get beaten by your dad?"
I shook my head. "Not enough."
In a sudden rage, Erica lunged at me, and I quickly retreated to my bedroom and locked the door.
Erica grabbed a chair and smashed it against the door, hurling insults at me.
I remained unfazed.
When Bobby returned, Erica started crying and complaining about me.
But Bobby ignored Erica and turned to me. "Is it true you won a prize in the competition? Did you get any money?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. It's not the final round."
"That's fine. You'll do great. Your teacher says you're talented," Bobby replied, more interested in the potential money than my achievements.
Erica tugged at Bobby's sleeve. "Raya said she doesn't mind you hitting me harder."
I interjected, "Mom, you've misunderstood. I'm not happy about you and my dad always fighting. He works hard to provide for us, yet you just complain instead of cooking."
My words struck a chord with Bobby. Though he hadn't been out earning money, he felt frustrated by his gambling losses.
"Don't complain about my daughter to me," Bobby said to Erica. "She could make money for us. Enough of this. Go cook."
Bobby fantasized about the wealth he believed I would bring him, recalling Tanner's praise of my talent.
Reluctantly, Erica went to the kitchen to start cooking.
I took out my phone, registered a new account, and added Erica as a friend.
After Erica prepared the meal, Bobby lost his temper again. "Damn it! I'm not a vegetarian! At least cook some meat!"
He flipped the table, sending vegetable soup splattering all over Erica.
I sat calmly on the sofa, watching the chaos unfold.
Erica snapped back, "You think I don't want to cook meat? How can I afford it with the little money you give me?"
Bobby scoffed. "So now you're blaming me? Do you know how hard it is to support this family? Can't you just make some money for this family?"
Erica rolled her eyes. "That's because you're useless! All you do is hit me and our daughter!"
Bobby slapped Erica again. As Erica cried out to me, I closed the bedroom door without hesitation.
The beatings from my last life were still fresh in my mind. It wasn't just my body that suffered. It was my very spirit that felt tortured. Back then, Erica had leaned against the doorframe, watching me get beaten with a smile, never intervening.
The strength difference between men and women, especially with a heavyset man like Bobby, left me feeling powerless.
I never intended to confront Bobby physically. Instead, I planned to manipulate him into fighting with Erica, buying myself time to execute my own plan.
The door slammed shut, and the living room fell silent, save for Erica's sobs in the background.
Using the new account, I pretended to be Kingsley Mills, a retired man from the neighborhood, and initiated an online chat with Erica.
Earlier, while Erica was fighting with Bobby, I took Erica's phone to change the remark and block the real Kingsley's account, my efforts just to ensure my new account appeared to be Kingsley's.
Once everything was set, I texted Erica, my choice of words deliberate just to sound like Kingsley. "I heard fighting in your house. You live such a bitter life. Do you really still want to stay with him?"
Erica quickly texted back. "I want to leave him, but I have my child to think about."
Smirking, I shot another message. "Maybe you should consider a divorce. With your looks and figure, finding a suitable man shouldn't be a problem."
Erica's reply hinted at her insecurities. "It's not that simple. I'm not highly educated. If I divorce, who would want to marry me?"
Seeing Erica take the bait, I deliberately didn't respond.
Sure enough, within minutes, Erica messaged "Kingsley" again, this time more directly. "Kingsley, your wife has been gone for years. Have you thought about remarrying? Don't you want to find someone else?"
Kingsley, a retired man in his sixties, was quite the catch in the neighborhood. With his wife long gone and his children working abroad, he received a generous monthly allowance of $20,000.
Moreover, Kingsley had a great sense of humor and maintained his figure well, lacking the spare tire common among his peers. His dancing skills added to his appeal.
Given the daily abuse from Bobby, it was no surprise that Erica found herself drawn to Kingsley, who "expressed" concern for her online.
To entice Erica without raising her suspicion, I chose my words carefully in my replies. "Erica, it's not that I don't want to remarry. It's just that the woman I love is still married."
I activated the living room surveillance camera and saw Erica holding her phone with a shy smile, clearly smitten.
To further lure Erica in her trap, I typed. "I love that woman, and I want to save her. I wonder if she would leave her husband for me."
As expected, Erica interpreted this as a confession. She jumped up in excitement, her fingers hovering over her phone as she typed and deleted several messages, seemingly unsatisfied with her words.
Finally, Erica's response came. "I think she would be willing."
I put my phone away, satisfied with my progress. From that day on, I continued chatting with Erica pretending to be Kingsley, charming her with gifts.
It didn't take long for Erica to become fully convinced that Kingsley was serious about her.
