Eight years ago...
Mia's pov.
Rain was pouring down outside, and here my mother's eyes were flooding inside our house.
It was past midnight, and my father hadn't come yet. My mother was cleaning the kitchen for the nth time just to pass the time while waiting for her husband, sobbing in tears.
The sound of a car engine shutting off came, and the car doors opened and closed with a thud, while the sound of footsteps grew louder.
The door was jerked open, and my father's imposing figure came into sight. He was holding a beautiful lady in his arms. I wouldn't say I liked seeing her with my father; she was literally clinging to him.
He entered the house and cast his gaze upon my mother, full of disgust.
“Why are you still here? I don't want to see your face when I come home. Get lost and never appear in front of my eyes. You've spoiled my mood,” he spat out with so much hatred in his voice.
“I was waiting for you. I was worried; it was raining heavily outside, and you hadn't come home,” my mother whispered in a subdued voice.
“You b***h, you don't need to fake it to worry about me. I don't need your concern. Just get out of my way and get out of my life.” My father kicked my mother so hard in her stomach that she fell to the ground, clutching her stomach and crying in pain. I was so afraid to see my father hitting my mother. I wanted to run to her and comfort her, but I kept hiding myself behind the door in fear, covering my mouth tightly with my palm.
“Come, darling, we will go into my room and have fun,'' he said to that lady and took her towards his room.
My mum was crying, holding her stomach on the ground. When they were inside his room, and the door was shut, I ran towards my mum and helped her stand up.
“Are you OK, mum?" I asked in concern, and tears started running down my eyes, seeing her so miserable lying there in pain.
“I am alright, my child. You go into your room and sleep,” she said, smiling despite the pain in her stomach. She was such a strong lady. She always used to hide her pain from me and never said anything wrong about my father, even though he treated her like junk.
"No, Mum, I won't leave you alone here. Where would you sleep? Dad has locked the room so you can't sleep in the room. Come with me and sleep in my room," I said as I gripped her hand and led her into my room. I wiped her wet cheeks with my small hands.
I was only ten, but I understood what was happening in my house. My father hated my mother because my grandparents forced him to marry her, and she came from a poor family.
My father didn't consider my mother equal to his standards, so he also hated me. I never dared to speak in front of him. He had ordered me not to come in front of him unless it was very important.
"Mum, why does Dad hate me so much? Why can't he love me like other fathers love their children?" I asked in desperation.
"Princess, it's not your fault. It's my mistake. If I had not married your father, you wouldn't have suffered like this," she said, tears streaming down her face again.
"No, Mum, it's not your fault. You are so nice, and you are a good mother. You are a good wife," I reassured her as I hugged her tightly, hoping it would ease her pain.
She hugged me securely. Strange voices were coming from my father's room. That lady was screaming my father's name, and my father was groaning. I couldn't figure out what was happening in his room, but then I saw my mother cry even harder this time. I wrapped my arms around her.
"Don't cry, Mum. Please. Nobody can hit you again. Please, Mum, just stay away from Dad, and from now onwards, stay with me in my room. If you don't go in front of Dad, we won't give them a chance to hurt you," I tried to soothe her.
Mum cuddled me to her chest and said, "Listen, Mia, I love you. Always remember that I will always be with you—no matter where I will be. Never lose faith in life. You will have a better life than me." She smiled, looking at me, cupping my face in her hand. "Mia, one day, a prince will come and take you out of this miserable life and place."
"No, Mum. I won't ever marry, and I won't marry a rich man. They treat us like servants. I will be with you forever," I confessed to her the biggest fear of my life.
My mother giggled and kissed my forehead. "Okay, time to sleep, come." She switched off the light and lay down on the bed, making me lie beside her. Soon, we both fell asleep.
Slowly, my mother's health started deteriorating, and she got sick day by day. She hid the illness from me, and she did not seek treatment. The desire to live in her had died a long time before, and one day, she left me alone in this cruel world. I was so angry with her. I didn't want to cry for her. But my heart was hurting so much that I felt like dying with her.
'Why, Mum? Why did you leave me alone? Why couldn't you live for me? Was it so difficult to live that you preferred to die?' I asked her, shouting and looking up toward the sky. No answer came to me from the sky.
Now I had to live alone in this cruel world, waiting for a chance to be free from this miserable life of mine. My father married that beautiful lady, and she became my stepmother. Actually, the worst began after my father's remarriage. My stepmother hated me more than anything in this world, and I didn't know the reason. She brought a daughter with her. My father loved her daughter more. In fact, he also hated me, and I was clueless about my faults.
My stepmother said I should be grateful to them because they let me live in the house after what my mother had done to them, and I was paying for my mother's deeds.
Now my position in that house was no more than that of a servant. Just like my mother, I had to do all the household chores. I was thankful to my father for allowing me to attend school. I waited to turn eighteen so that I could get a job and leave his house. Maybe my bad luck would end when I became an adult on my eighteenth birthday.
But I knew one thing for sure: I would never marry a rich man because they were heartless and treated us like trash.