Trapped In Contract Marriage

Chapter 3

The contract sat there like a curse, a reminder of the shitty choices I had to make. I knew it was time to refuse the offer George Dewsbury offered and let my mom find someone who could actually do something. But it was not as easy as I thought, Mom had already wasted a huge amount on those f*****g lawyers who had not attended the trials. I have no guts to tell her to arrange another one. I know she has left with no money, she is just running a small gift shop in the suburbs of the city.

That’s what she chose to be. She said she loves the smile of people after choosing the best gift for their loved ones. Even though her life was dark, she loved to enlighten others'lives. I am f*****g missing her!

Tonn….. Tonn… Tonnn

The Custodian slammed the metal rod on the bars and I jumped back to reality.

“It’s time for television.” Every evening from 6 to 7, the television screen in front of every cell turns on. Therapy shows played, their overly cheerful hosts preaching about healing. Some news, as if that was gonna fix the messed-up world beyond those bars.

They all gathered like a bunch of zombies to stare at the screen. The people inside prison have adapted to this routine, but I know I have not and I never will. It had been twenty days of being trapped in this hellhole, and I just wanted out. See the sunshine again.

As the yoga program commenced, the peaceful atmosphere was disrupted by the blaring news. "Breaking news: Shocking incident! An early-aged woman was brutally attacked by a group on the street. The assault was captured on video. The victim's condition is critical."

Though the news reached my ears, I didn’t pay any attention to it. Perhaps another way to convey a social message to the prisoner. Amidst it all, a plea broke through. It resonated in my mind.

"Stop... please... someone, help!"

The urgency in the voice spurred me into action, propelling me forward. My hands instinctively clutched the iron bars, my knuckles turning white.

The shocking truth hit me like a ton of bricks—it was my very own mother who was at the receiving end of this brutal assault by the raging crowd.

On one side, someone was pulling my mom's hair, while on the other, another person was giving her a forceful shove. Witnessing this cruelty towards her made my heart ache, and I felt an urgent need to rush to her aid. She seemed completely helpless and vulnerable. No one was stepping forward to help her, people stood around just busy in video shooting. Amidst the chaos, voices filled with fury echoed in the air.

"She's the reason for the deaths of countless people because of her daughter. Why did she even bring her into this world? Let her pay the price!" The vitriolic words stabbed at my soul, a sharp reminder of the blame they were placing on her for my actions. My heart ached as I watched someone cruelly smear black paint across her face, an act that symbolized her public humiliation.

Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the paint and her own agony. The torment she endured from the humiliation was devastating. My hands clenched the iron bars, my own emotions a turbulent mix of anger and despair. The unwavering determination to put an end to this nightmare.

In the early evening, everyone is eager for their share of food. With my plate in hand, I washed it quickly and joined the queue. Patiently, I waited as ten other inmates went before me. Finally, my turn arrived, and I collected my portion before making my way back to my cell. The rice was overcooked, and the gravy hardly had any vegetables, and they could give a reward if anyone found mushrooms in it.

As I took my first bite, an unexpected force knocked my spoon, smudging it with the food. I glanced at the unfamiliar girl ahead of me. Stained clothes, unwashed face and hair, with big stitches on her forehead. She stared at me with her gloomy eyes. I was puzzled for a moment. I hadn't crossed paths with her before, or at least I couldn't recall. More prisoners stood behind her, adding to the confusion.

"Hey! Slut! You f*****g pushed into me!" Her face flushed with anger and I instinctively stepped back. The cafeteria had emptied out, leaving me alone in the wake of mealtime chaos.

No, I didn't," I picked up the spoon and began wiping it with my clothes. The food distribution window had already closed. But their faces were still the same, as if I had failed to convince them. "I might have accidentally bumped into you, I am sorry," I said, with a soft voice to pacify the situation. In prison, clashes were not a big deal. I saw many cellmates scratching each other's hair and fighting like an animal just for the sake of a toothbrush and soap. Sometimes it’s better to apologize than arguing, to save time and effort.

I savoured each bite of the peculiar prison meal, attempting to find a shred of solace in eating. Those odd flavors of ingredients clashed and danced on my tongue. As I raised the spoon to my lips, chaos erupted. With an explosive force, she burst the bubble of my tranquility. She forcefully knocked my plate away, it crashed on the floor. The food on the plate shattered like a broken dream. My fingers clenched around the spoon in sudden frustration.

"Who the f**k you are, throwing my food away?" I shouted, the words tumbling out in a heated rush. It was the first time I raised my voice in prison, perhaps for the last time. In response, the girl grabbed my cheeks with a tight grip. Her friends began hitting and pulling at me, tugging at my hair in an unwilling tug of war.

"You f*****g w***e! Do you know how long I've been here? How many bloody murders have I committed? I'm not going to spare you," the inmate hissed. Her allies joined her against me. Their hands on my back, their feet striking my stomach. I struggled to defend myself, but they were more trained.

My screams seemed to fall on deaf ears as the other inmates merely observed, perhaps fearing the group of five. My head throbbed from the injury, and my foot ached where it had been sprained.

“Help me… Help...” I screamed again. Even when I tried to defend myself, they seemed professional goons who were unaffected by my small punches. Finally, the custodian came and took them away from me.

One with a tall height just gave me a fierce look and whispered ‘we won’t spare you.’ It sent shivers down my spine. I breathed a sigh of relief when they were locked in their cells.

The remnant of the scattered food lay on the floor, now I couldn't eat it anymore. No matter how the food was, it would have been enough to satiate my hunger. My appetite has vanished. Throughout the night, I tossed and turned in my narrow bed,

The cellmates were asleep, snoring softly. I could hear those snatching quick breaths, their snores echoing in the dimly lit room. As I lay there, staring at the cold, gray ceiling, a wave of determination washed over me. I refused to become like them – resigned to life within these prison walls. They had accepted their fate, embraced the monotonous rhythm of jail life. But I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I had picked the contract and already made up my mind. I had decided my fate. Whatever it may be, I can’t imagine a worse scenario than this place. As soon as I felt the dawn through the small window by the up corner, I woke up before all the prisoners and got ready after bathing. I was prepared to change my fate.

“A lawyer has come to meet you.” Those words, I have been waiting since morning to hear. I rushed to the visiting room. Nathan handed me the mobile phone, George Dewsbury was on call.

“I hope you had a better sleep last night. I am asking for the last time. Have you made your…” Before he could finish whatever he wanted to say, I interrupted him.

“I am willing to sign the contract. I am ready to marry you.” I blurted out, my breath uneven from the intensity of the moment.

“Are you not going to regret it later?” His voice had the same vibrations which it had before.

“No.”

“Remember your words.” A warning lingered in the air, Nathan took the mobile phone back from my hand and engaged in the conversation with George Dewsbury. Till now, I have only heard his voice twice, not even seen him. Just his name and age. Apart from that, I don’t even know who he is.

“Here it is. You have to sign here.” Nathan tapped a few columns.