SOLD

"You’re late,” my father rasped. His voice was a ghost of the man who used to read me bedtime stories. Now, it was just a jagged edge.

“I was working,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my knees. “I have prepared food. Eat, Dad. Please.”

My mother let out a sharp, mocking laugh from the sofa. “Food? She brings us bread when the walls are closing in. Do you have the money, Amelia? The rent? The… other things? What about the drugs?”

I swallowed hard, the secret of my firing burning in my throat like acid. “I lost the job at the shop. Mr. Lloyd… he tried to touch me. And when I refused, he fired me”

The silence that followed wasn't sympathetic but rather, it was hungry.

“You had to leave?” My father staggered toward me, his eyes wide and bloodshot.

“You had a golden ticket, and you threw it away because of a wandering hand? Do you have any idea what we owe? What they’ll do to us if we don’t pay?”

“I have two other jobs!” I shouted, the resentment finally bubbling over. “I am twenty-two! I am starving! Look at me! I am the only one keeping this family from the gutter, and you’re mad because I wouldn't let a predator ruin me?”

“We are in the gutter!” my mother shrieked, lunging off the couch. She grabbed my arm, her nails once manicured, now yellowed and sharp sinking into my skin like that of a tiger. “You think you’re so much better than us? With your books and your 'dignity'? Your dignity doesn’t pay the interest, Amelia! All you had to do was to give him a piece of you and you'd be having the money right now”

“I hate you,” I whispered, the words coming out cold and rough. “I have sacrificed every second of my life for you, and you look at me like I’m a broken ATM. You are even suggesting I whore myself out? I understand that you guys can't let go of the past but it's about damn time the two of you grow up. I’m your daughter.”

My father’s face contorted. “A daughter provides. A daughter saves her father's life.” He stepped into my space, the stench of stale sweat and chemicals overwhelming. “If you won't work for the money, then you are the money.”

“What does that mean?” My heart skipped.

“Dad, what did you do?”

“We did what we had to!” he bellowed, and his hand swung but not a slap this time, but a closed-fist blow that sent me spinning into the kitchen counter.

The world shattered into white light. I tried to scramble up, but my mother was there, her hands pushing me back down. “Just stay still,” she hissed, and I couldn't tell if it was a command or a mercy. “It’s over now. The debt is gone.”

"What did you do? Mom! Dad! Answer me" I shouted.

"Well the black market was looking for people. And with your picture, they promised millions. Since my genes are what got them interested in the first place, we sold you to them. And they will be coming for you in an hour, "he said ruthlessly.

“You sold me?” I gasped, blood copper-sweet in my mouth. The realization was worse than the pain. “You sold your own blood?”

“You were always meant for more than a burger shop, Amelia,” my father muttered, looking away as he reached for a discarded syringe on the table. He couldn't even look at me while he destroyed me. “Think of it as a career change. At least someone will be interested in the good looks you inherited and will bid for you”