Downstairs

After the school cafeteria for elementary school kids shut down, I decided to offer meals for all the kids in our building at my home. At the end of the month, when it came time to settle the bill, one of the neighbors wasn’t happy. “The new caterer downstairs only charges $2.50 per meal, but you’re charging us $5! That’s an extra $75 per kid per month. Do you have no shame?” she accused me. I calmly explained that I only used free-range meat and organic vegetables in my meals. But no matter how patiently I tried to reason with them, the parents insisted I refund the difference and demanded I charge no more than $2.50 per meal moving forward. When I lowered my costs to meet their demands, they started accusing me of mistreating their children. They went online to expose me and even reported me to the authorities. The online attacks were relentless. I was fined, and my husband lost his job because of the controversy surrounding me. The stress pushed me into depression, and in the end, I jumped off a building to end it all. When I opened my eyes again, I saw those same parents being swayed by others in the neighborhood to send their kids to the new daycare service that only charged $2.50 a day. What they didn’t know was that the lunch caterer next door did serve meat every day—but it was frozen, diseased pork that had been sitting in storage for two years.

The night I find out I'm pregnant, my family's villa suddenly goes up in flames. I endure the suffocating smoke and run the risk of being disfigured as I run to my son's bedroom. However, it's empty. Just then, I hear his excited exclamations outside the window. "Monica, you look so cool when putting out fires! I bet you'll get first place in this upcoming Firefighter Challenge!" I'm about to head downstairs to lecture him when a wall collapses and crushes me. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I hear my stern, stoic husband praise Monica Sloan for her courage. If I'm guessing correctly, my husband and son have started this fire to please her. I stare at the door, which is so close and yet so far. I send out one final text before dying of asphyxiation.

"Look, Kristine, there is no need to make a fuss about all of this," Jared finally said, his tone calm and dismissive. He met my eyes with a cold, indifferent gaze, not remorse in anyway. "We have guests downstairs. If you could just go and talk to them, Sophia and I will join you in a bit," he added, waving his hand as if to shoo me away. I scoffed, my hands shaking with anger. "Are you kidding me right now? Is that all you have to say? I just caught you in bed with my sister at our engagement party, and that's all you have to say? Have you lost your mind?" Tears welled up and spilled over, streaming down my cheeks as I clenched my fists in frustration. "You expect me to go downstairs and entertain our guests after catching you with my sister? What is wrong with you?"

"Get up, I'm hungry. Cook for me NOW!" The authoritative tone jolted me awake, not giving me a moment to freshen up or even change. We don't sleep side by side; he stays in the master bedroom while I occupy the guest room. He can't stand being near me. It hurts deeply when those words come from him, but it's a recurring pattern. I hurriedly made my way downstairs, still tying the robe around me. In the kitchen, I began preparing his breakfast. You see, I'm his secret wife. No one knows except our parents and a few friends. Since we got married, not a day goes by without him reminding me that he doesn't love me. Not a day goes by without him hurting me. But that's alright because, as I've mentioned, I love him so much that I'm willing to do anything just to earn his love in return. A single tear escaped and fell onto the clove of garlic I was chopping. I quickly wiped it away. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Manang watching me. I took a deep breath to regain my composure before turning to her with a forced smile. "I'm sorry; I got emotional over garlic." I lied.