Auctioned To The Highest Bidder

Nyssa’s POV:

The night was peaceful, or so it seemed, until a loud bang at the front door shattered the quiet.

My heart leapt into my throat as I turned to look at my mother, who sat motionless on the couch, appearing as lifeless as usual. Her eyes were half-closed, and her fingers twitched faintly—early signs of withdrawal beginning.

“Mom?” My voice trembled more than I intended. “Who’s there?”

She didn’t answer, only kept staring blankly at the TV, though I knew she wasn’t really watching. The knocking turned into pounding, then a harsh voice shouted from outside.

“Open the damn door! We know you’re in there!”

A wave of panic rose in my stomach. Any doubts about the voice vanished when I saw my mother flinch. Slowly, she turned toward me, her eyes suddenly wide with fear—the first real emotion I’d seen on her face in weeks.

“Nyssa,” she whispered, her voice strained and barely audible, “Don’t open it.”

There was chaos outside, sounds of someone stumbling as if ready to break in, along with the thunder rumbling beyond the door.

“Well, I guess we don’t have any other option,” I said, stepping toward the door, my hands shaking as I reached for the handle.

Just as I was about to turn it, the door was violently pushed open, sending me sprawling backward, my heartbeat pounding wildly.

A group of men flooded into our cramped living room, filling the space instantly. Their leader, a tall, broad-shouldered man with an ugly scar from his brow, down his cheek, stepped forward. His dark eyes scanned the room before settling on my mother.

“Where’s our money, Angela?” His voice was low but icy enough to make me shiver.

I glanced at my mother, confusion twisting in my gut. “Money? What money?”

She remained silent, her lips tightly pressed and her hands gripping the couch’s armrest so hard her knuckles turned white.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t tell your daughter, Angela. You didn’t tell her about the debt you’ve racked up that you can’t pay?” the scarred man muttered, shaking his head. “Irresponsible as always.”

I demanded, “What’s he talking about, Mom?”

She bit her lip and looked away. “Nyssa, I—”

“Drugs,” Scarface cut in. “Your mother’s been enjoying our supply without paying, and now we’ve come to settle the account.”

My knees buckled. Drugs? I always suspected Mom had problems, but I never imagined it was this serious. She had been an irresponsible mother, disappearing from home for weeks at a time, only to return and drain whatever savings I had.

“I don’t have it right now,” my mother finally whispered, her voice small and almost childlike.

Scarface’s face darkened. “Wrong answer,” he said.

He motioned to one of the men behind him, who immediately seized a lamp from the side table and smashed it against the wall.

The shattering sound was overwhelming, shards of glass scattering across the floor. I stepped back, gasping, as another man kicked over the coffee table, sending its contents flying.

“Stop!” I pleaded, my voice trembling. “Please, just stop!”

“Then tell your mother to pay us,” Scarface said, locking eyes with me. For the first time, a profound fear crept over me, making my skin crawl. “Or we’ll start breaking things that matter.”

I looked at my mother, fists clenched. “Tell me this isn’t real. Tell me you didn’t drag us into this.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she remained silent. That was all the confirmation I needed.

“How much does she owe?” I whispered.

Scarface smirked. “It’s a big number, sweetheart. Bigger than you can handle. And the thing is... we don’t have much patience.”

He nodded to another man, who grabbed a chair and shattered it against the wall, splintering the wood. I flinched, breathing uneven.

“We’ll come back in a week,” Scarface warned. “If you don’t have our money by then, things will only get worse. Much worse.”

With that, he spun on his heel and strode out, his men following. Before leaving, he glanced back at my mother and shook his head. “You were really fun, Angela. But now, you’re just a crazy druggie ”

The door closed behind them, leaving a heavy silence settling over the room.

I stood there, trembling, my head throbbing as I tried to process everything that had just occurred. Slowly, I turned to face my mother.

“How long?” I managed to ask, my voice barely audible. “How long have you been doing this? ”

She sniffled and wiped her face. “Nyssa, I really didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“How long?” I repeated, raising my voice.

She exhaled shakily. “For a while. A couple of years.”

It felt like a punch to my gut. I had been with her my entire life—shared everything—and now this.

"You let them into our home," I said, my body trembling. "You've put me in danger."

"I never wanted it to come to this," she murmured softly.

"Then do you ever really mean anything?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. My mother recoiled, but I didn't care. I was furious—too hurt and betrayed. "How do you plan to pay them off? Do you have any idea?"

She tried to respond, but no words emerged. That silence was all the answer I needed.

Though tears blurred my vision, I refused to let them fall. For years, I had clung to her, making excuses, convincing myself things weren’t as bad as they seemed. But this... this was unbearable.

I looked away, clenching my fists tightly. "I can't keep doing this, Mom. I can't keep lying to myself."

"Nyssa, please—"

"No," I cut her off sharply, turning my gaze back to her. "You caused this. Now you need to fix it yourself."

With that, I stormed out of the room, my heart racing wildly. I had no idea what I would do next, but one thing was certain:

 Everything had changed. The relationship between my mother and me would never be the same again.