chapter 3 Kassia pov

Kassia went home with Chicago after school, knowing that her shift at the library would start at 5:00 p.m. Working at the library was just one of the jobs she did. Since it was Thursday, she had enough time to tidy up the house before her mother returned—if she even came home that day.

Kassia's mom had not been home for over a month. Her mom didn't have a phone, so Kassia couldn't call her. The last phone her mom had, she had given to her boyfriend when he complained that he didn't have one. Kassia's mom could be clueless at times.

Kassia's mind wandered back to her conversation with Caleb. She had been a little surprised that he had gotten her number. Then she realized that the only person who had her number was Christy.

Kassia and Chicago had different fathers. Their mother had gotten pregnant with Kassia by mistake. She had been drunk at a club after losing her job as a waitress, likely trying to numb her pain with alcohol. However, what had truly unsettled her was the realization that she would no longer have money to buy drugs. She had been a drug addict, and in her vulnerable state, a man had taken advantage of her. Weeks later, she discovered she was pregnant.

She had wanted to terminate the pregnancy but couldn't afford the procedure. She tried taking pills, but they didn't work. According to her, she had never wanted to be a mother. She had once dreamed of becoming an accountant, but those dreams had been shattered when she found out she was expecting. Her mother had disowned her, and her father had abandoned her when she was only three years old.

Kassia tried to understand how her mother had ended up this way—the excessive drinking, smoking, and drug use. When Kassia was fifteen, her mother met Chicago's father. Although he was rarely seen at their house, their mother spent most of her time at his place. Their own home looked as though it could collapse at any moment, and Kassia's friend Shirley always said it wasn't safe.

Chicago's father had seemed to manipulate their mother into getting pregnant. However, during the pregnancy, he stayed with her, caring for her, buying groceries, and even preparing meals for Kassia and their mother. But just a few months after Chicago was born, he was arrested for assault. That was the last time anyone heard from him.

Now, their mother was dating someone else, though Kassia couldn't recall his name. She had never even seen him. Chicago was already five years old—time had passed so quickly.

After tidying up the house, Kassia got ready for work. She always took Chicago along, as there was no one to babysit her. The library job paid very little, so Kassia had asked her friend Catherine to put in a good word for her at the restaurant where she worked.

Catherine had been kind from the start. Kassia and Chicago had first met her when Chicago had been crying for ice cream. Catherine had bought some for both of them, and when Kassia explained her job situation, Catherine had promised to help her find a better one.

There were no neighbours willing to help babysit Chicago, so taking her along to work had become routine. Just as they were about to leave, their mother stumbled into the house. The stench of alcohol clung to her—she was drunk again.

As Kassia prepared to leave the house, her mother's voice stopped her.

"Kassia, where are you going? Why are you all dressed up this evening?"

"Mom, I'm going to work. Remember, I work at the library," Kassia replied.

"Have you prepared something for me to eat?"

"There's nothing in the house to cook. I had to buy cereals for Chicago," Kassia explained.

Her mother's expression darkened. "So you're trying to tell me that I'm going to starve? Why didn't you use the money you had to buy food for me instead of Chicago?"

She moved toward Kassia, grabbed her hair, and yanked it hard before striking her across the face.

"You stupid girl! I'm talking to you, and you have the audacity to talk back at me? What do you even use your salary for? Don't tell me you're spending it on those boys at your school, you useless, foolish girl! I regret ever giving birth to you. If only your useless father had used a condom, it would have saved me all this stress. I wish I had given birth to a son. I always knew daughters were worthless—they don't know how to take care of their mothers!"

Kassia fought back tears as she responded, "Mom, I use my salary to pay for Chicago's school fees, and I try to buy groceries with whatever is left. I haven't even collected my pay for this month yet."

Her words only seemed to enrage her mother further. She continued pulling Kassia's hair before grabbing a bottle from the kitchen and swinging it toward her head. Kassia instinctively raised her arm to block the blow, but the bottle shattered on impact, sending shards of glass into her hand. Blood immediately began to seep from her wounds.

Before she could react, her mother kicked her, and she lost balance, crashing to the floor. A sharp pain shot through her ankle as she landed awkwardly—she knew instantly that it was dislocated.

"You're the one making me hit you," her mother scoffed. "I know you're not my favourite person, but I am not an abuser. Gosh, I need to bathe. You better find me something to eat when I come back down."

Without another word, she walked up the stairs, leaving Kassia on the floor.

Kassia winced, trying not to put pressure on her injured ankle. It hurt like hell, but she refused to cry. She needed to get out of the house before her mother returned. She had no money left to prepare any food for her, having exhausted everything.

Limping toward the kitchen, she checked the fridge and decided to make her mother some cereal. She couldn't bear to leave her hungry, and deep down, she told herself that her mother hadn't meant to hurt her. If she worked harder and saved more, maybe she could afford to buy the things her mother wanted.

Blood continued to drip from her wounds, staining the floor. Kassia knew she needed medical attention. Taking Chicago by the hand, she left the house, determined to tend to her injuries before they got worse. She suddenly remembered that the library had a pair of crutches. Surely, Madam wouldn't mind if she borrowed them—it would at least help her avoid putting too much pressure on her ankle.

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Chapter 3 is complete! please keep reading - it gets better, I promise!

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