Lowlife Poppy Novels & Stories

"If you can't pay, you can always use your daughter as collateral. She's quite pretty, after all." Terrified, Ruby dropped to her knees, pleading. "Please, Dad, don't sell me to them!" Dad's eyes flickered as if he'd just thought of something, and he forced a smile. "Don't worry. We'll definitely come up with the money." In the end, they'd signed the house over to pay off the high-interest loan and had moved into a modest two-bedroom apartment. Things were that bad, but Dad kept streaming anyway. With a topic this hot, he could still make a little money, and every bit counted.

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I proffered. “That's highly unlikely, I'm afraid. The drug she's addicted to is quite rare and difficult to get. It's made from the seeds of the Papaver Somniferum, commonly known as the Poppy plant. The problem is, this isn't regular opium, it's a different derivative, one that's lesser known and is most commonly made by hand. So there's no way it could have just found its way into her diet. Since Jaselyn wasn't consciously taking this drug and her doctor hid this fact despite knowing, there can only be one explanation.” The doctor said and paused.

*Poppy* The air in the car felt heavy as we bounced along the dirt road, the rhythmic bounce of the wheels barely covering the chaos swirling in my mind. I couldn't shake the image of Dante's lifeless body, now shrouded in white silk and adorned with calla lilies and black roses. Each flower seemed to mock the tragedy, a haunting reminder of our failure. I gripped the edge of the seat, trying to steady my raging heart. The news we carried was more than just the death of a warrior; it was a ticking time bomb, threatening to ignite a war between kingdoms.

✧FAITH ZEICAN LEE✧ "It's okay, Poppy. We won't force you to share—" "Daddy used to love me so much," Poppy whispered, causing Mommy to fall silent. Poppy lowered her gaze, fiddling with her fingers. "When I was little... he was always with me. We would always eat together. Whenever I was sick, he would be restless. When I was sad because I missed Mommy, he’d do anything to make me happy. B-But… ever since Mommy Jody brought Chloe to the mansion…" Poppy's voice hitched, "—he stopped paying attention to me. He was always angry with me. He’d always scold me even when I hadn’t… d-done anything wrong. And… from that point on, he stopped calling me his daughter. It was always Chloe. He didn’t want

“It’s the only way to keep our name. Our standing. The family depends on this.” That was it. Their name. That was worth more than her. Poppy fell to her knees. Her fingers curled at his feet, her tears soaking into the hem of his robe. “Please,” she begged. “I’m your daughter. Don’t make me do this. I don’t want to be touched by that man. I don’t want to be hurt. Please. Please... I’m not garbage. Don’t throw me away like this.” She wailed, holding his legs tightly. “I haven’t done anything to deserve this. I’ve always been quiet. I’ve always listened. I never asked for anything! Please, Papa... please... just this once, protect me.”

Sterling’s eyes had widened in shock at Poppy’s audacity. “Are you done?” he asked, trying to keep calm. Poppy glared at him. “Never. I’ll make sure your life is a living hell. I might not be strong physically, but the things I can do with technology can ruin your life.”

Poppie went through so many withdrawal symptoms I didn’t know if she would make it - she was going through itbad. She had tremors, convulsions and even hallucinations. She looked like she was dying right in front of me. Shespaced outat times that I had to check on her to see if she was still breathing. I cried for her because she was in so much pain and discomfort, I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t take it away and I felt horrible. It had gotten so bad, that I found myself praying to God that she would wake up the next day feeling just a little bit better. Seven days went by and Poppie emerged from the bedroom one night as I was watching tv.

"What ails you? You look so... unhappy." Poppy let out a bitter laugh. "Unhappy? Oh, Francis, you have no idea. I am a prisoner of my own desires, a slave to my appetites. And now, as I grow old and weak, I find that those appetites have abandoned me, leaving me with nothing but the bitter taste of regret." Francis reached out, taking Poppy's hand in his own. "Your Highness," he said, his voice gentle. "You have lived a life of great pleasure and indulgence. You have tasted delights that most can only dream of. Surely that is worth something?"