EATING FROM THE TRASH BIN

CHAPTER 2: EATING FROM THE TRASH BIN

VENUS:

It has been days since I had my last meal..

It was probably gastric irritation but I threw up a yellow-green bile before I could stop myself. Thank goodness Cynthia already left, otherwise, they would've made me lick it up.

I quickly cleaned my mouth with the back of my trembling hands.

My stomach twisted at the thought of what would have happened if Cynthia was still here. So I quickly began to clean up the mess.

I still had a lot to do but the hunger remained a constant ache in my stomach, making it hard for me to work faster.

Not working fast enough means receiving more whips from my uncle.

I shuddered at the thought of that and hurried off to the kitchen after I was done with Cynthia’s room.

I gasped at the sight before me. Someone had spilled some greasy substance on the floor and smeared the entire kitchen floor with it.

This was going to take me hours to clean up. But I went to work immediately, anyway.

The kitchen smelled heavenly as if someone had just made a meal. But I dared not wish to have any of it.

My stomach growled even more.

I finished cleaning the kitchen an hour later and headed downstairs. I summoned the courage and walked toward the dining room where my uncle and his family sat, eating.

My stomach growled at the sight of the sumptuous meal spread on the dining table.

“Uncle… please,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely above a whimper. “I’m so hungry… I just need a little food.”

He was silent for a moment and I thought he was about to let me have some food. But, suddenly, he rose from his seat and came toward me. My heart jumped in terror. Before I could react, he used the whip on me again..

The level of pain I felt on my back cannot be described with words as the whip’s cruel tip met my already bruised flesh.

“Shut your filthy mouth, you wretched girl!” Uncle Raymond’s voice was thick with disgust as he gave me another lash. I felt acute pain across my arms and I cried out, unable to hold back the agony.

“Please, Uncle Raymond, please stop..”

“You dare whine at me?” he snarled, bringing the whip down again. I curled up, trying to shield myself from the onslaught, but it was impossible to escape his wrath.

I wondered what I had done to deserve this. Why couldn't he just love me the way he loved Cynthia? After all, I was his niece and we had the same blood.

“You think you deserve to eat? You useless, ugly little burden! You should be grateful I even let you breathe under my roof!”

His words hurt deeper than any whip ever could. This building actually belonged to my parents but uncle Raymond inherited it when they died mysteriously.

“I— I’m sorry,” I stammered, as my body trembled in agony. Tears continued to flow down my face and I was too tired to stop the tears.

He scoffed. “You disgust me, Venus. Look at you. Filthy, weak, pitiful. You should have just died with your parents, because on this earth, you're just useless.

“But don't worry, I will make sure you become useful to someone. At least, the money I spent raising you won't be a waste. I have to get it back somehow.”

I gripped my heart as a fresh wave of pain shot through me, this time from my heart. My parents died when I was ten years old and I was left behind in the hands of this monster.

It's hard to believe we're family.

Uncle Raymond grabbed a fistful of my tangled hair and yanked me up to my knees. My scalp burned, but I dared not cry out again.

“You want food?” he laughed coldly, the sound hollow and cruel. “Go dig in the trash, like the rat you are.”

My stomach clenched. “No… please… I—”

The back of his hand met my face, hard enough to send me sprawling onto the ground. “I said, go find your food in the garbage!” he snapped. “That’s all you’re worth.”

I lay on the floor for a moment, my body throbbing, and my soul shattered. I had no choice. Either I ate from the trash or I starved.

I pushed myself up slowly and staggered toward the back of the house where the garbage bins stood. The stench of rotting food filled my nostrils, and bile rose in my throat again.

But I suppressed the urge to throw up again.

I knew Aunt Margerate and her daughter Cynthia followed me. So if I threw up now, who knows what might happen?

As I stood near the trash bin, Aunt Margerate and Cynthia stood behind me, laughing.

“Look at her,” Cynthia giggled. “Like a stray dog. Oh, wait—dogs have more worth than she does.”

I felt humiliated and my fingers trembled as I lifted the lid of the trash can. Inside, among the scraps, I spotted a half-eaten piece of bread, covered in dirt. My stomach growled.

Tears blurred my vision as I reached for it.

How has my life come to this?

Cynthia didn't stop taunting me. She obviously enjoyed my humiliation. “That’s where you belong, Venus. In the dirt. Eating scraps.”

I forced myself to take the bread, my fingers shaking. I dusted off some dirt and took a hesitant bite. It was stale, dry, and disgusting. But my hunger didn’t care.

I just had to eat this. I had to survive.

The sound of a car approaching made them turn around and walk back in.

Are they expecting a visitor?

And why do I have the feeling that my life is about to take a turn for the worst?