Chapter 4 The Price of My Future

The autumn wind was bitterly cold.

However, a seed called ambition still took root and grew wildly in my young heart.

…

After I graduated from middle school, I was admitted to the best elite private high school in the entire state because I'd scored the highest grades in the city.

The night my acceptance letter arrived, my mother and father didn't sleep a wink as they held the embossed envelope with wide eyes.

I heard them sighing over and over in the living room through the thin crack of my bedroom door.

After all, that school was filled with children from wealthy and influential families. Just the first semester's tuition, fees, uniforms, and dorm costs came to a whopping 50,000 dollars.

"50 grand… We couldn't come up with that kind of money even if we sold everything we had."

My mother wiped away her tears, despair filling her voice.

My father took a hard drag on his unlit cigarette, his fingers trembling.

"The money's one thing. I'll sell my blood or work under the table on shady construction sites if I have to. What I'm really worried about is Shawn showing up in worn-out clothes and getting laughed at by those rich kids.

"It's one thing for us to suffer, but I refuse to let our son be looked down on at school."

Before dawn, my father changed into a freshly washed, but clearly threadbare shirt that was so faded that it had nearly turned white.

For the first time in forever, my mother dug out a cheap tube of lipstick and put on a little makeup.

"Shawn, stay home and study. Don't worry about the money." My father rested his calloused hand on my head and forced an awkward smile on his lips. "Your mom and I will take care of the tuition. You should just focus on school."

As I watched them walk away with steel in their eyes, I knew exactly where they were going.

The floating comments told me they were going to beg George for money. The same cousin who had thrown my father out of the family years ago and taken over the old house.

George had struck it rich as a construction contractor. Now, he was a small-time boss and drove a luxury car.

Back when my father had been so desperate he dug through trash cans looking for food, George had passed by without even giving him a second glance. Even worse, he'd also spat on the ground in disgust right in front of my father.

My mother and father had once sworn that they'd rather starve to death than ever ask him for help.

Yet, here they were, willingly lowering their heads and knocking on their enemy's door all for the sake of my future.

They came home around noon. Neither of them looked well, and my father's fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white.

"That bastard George deliberately splashed hot coffee all over Frankie. He even made Tanya wash his wife's feet before agreeing to give Frankie a job. Frankie swallowed every bit of that humiliation for the sake of the 50,000 dollars."

My heart clenched in fury as I read the comment.

From that day on, my father took the hardest job at George's construction site.

He left before sunrise every morning and would only drag himself home well after midnight.

His already slight shoulders became a little more hunched each day due to carrying loads weighing hundreds of pounds.

My mother pushed herself even harder after that visit. During the day, she would haul goods at the wholesale market. Then, she would wear herself out making grilled cheese sandwiches to sell at night.

They worked like two tireless pack mules, scraping out a living any way they could just to give me the chance to attend that elite high school.

I silently gritted my teeth as I watched their faces grow gaunter by the day.

Three days before school started, my father was brought home at dusk on the back of a battered three-wheeled cart that hauled bricks.

He was covered in blood, and his dusty work clothes had turned a dark crimson.

His right leg was twisted at a horrifying angle, the broken bone nearly piercing through his pant leg.

The moment my mother saw him, she let out a piercing scream and threw herself at him, sobbing. "Frankie! What happened to you, Frankie? Please don't scare me!"

Cold sweat poured down my father's face, and his lips had gone pale from the pain. Even so, he still managed to grin at us, flashing us a mouthful of his white teeth.

Then, he shakily pulled a plastic bag from inside his shirt.