Chapter 1
Margaret
Nothing is truly mine anymore.
My thoughts, desires, and my dreams are all hanging by a thread to be owned by someone else.
When did it become like this?
At one point, it seemed that someone at some point decided to place a pack of batteries into us in the form of a salary, to keep us working to oblivion.
As I lay on my hard mattress, I thought, are we just puppets for the rich?
The orchid purple satin bed cover was gentle on my naked thighs and forever cold. It seemed that no matter how long I lay under the smooth fabric, I couldn’t get it to warm up. How peculiar. Maybe I was just like this satin? Or maybe, I had no warmth to give anymore.
Ray of sunlight, mockingly inviting me for its friendship, was the only visitor that I have been having. But for the twenty-four hours that I have spent laying in my bed, it never quite reached. Instead, it warmed up the rug on the ivory floor, or the pine green walls depending on the time of the day. Warmth was always something reserved for someone else. Moonlight is the daughter of the sunlight, however, it always gave me the impression that it never wanted to be there. Rather, it followed the steps of its mother, trying to catch up, but never quite successful.
I could move my bed to be in the position of both, but I don’t want to chase warmth that will never come. And not in the form of rays of sunlight or moonlight, but the warmth of her. Long gone, and memory forever aching.
Particles of dust unseen in the darkness were only showing themselves in the rays, graciously made their way down, but then as if they grew fickle, they swirled in a different direction. Mesmerized by the dance of the aerosol, I let melancholy overtake my being.
I haven’t moved a muscle for hours, and I am still tired.
My glass sheet phone rang, and whenever it did, it was a sign that an angel of death might knock on someone’s door.
“Hello?” I answered tiredly.
“Have I reached...the service?”
A male voice. Desperate and old, but still hesitant to speak. If I did not know why he called, I would feel bad.
“Yes?” I responded cautiously.
“Please! Please! Help me!” There was a strain in this man’s voice, an unmistakable cry for help indeed.
“How did you get my number?” I asked not bothering to disguise my suspicion.
I wasn’t quite unreachable, but I was far from easily accessible too. It’s surprising how resourceful humanity can be, utilizing every means necessary to keep themselves alive. But that didn’t matter, as long as they paid me.
“My friend gave it to me, he said that you saved him and his family. Please... I will give you all of my remaining credits.”
“How much?” I hated it when they tried to catch me on sympathy. He was not any better than those people who would hunt him. Hiring me would also take a husband, a mother, or a brother, from someone else.
“Around 200? Please....”
Desperation in the voice of a man was felt clearly, but it was not enough to move me. This world did not care about that. Neither did I. I was not a charity. Each universe out there knew that mercy was not shown to me when I needed it the most.
“Call back with a better offer.” I hung up, letting the phone slip through my fingers, and shifted in my bed. 200 credits was not nearly enough to take a life. In my line of work, life has a price, and it is much more expensive.
Needlessly to say, he never called again.
The board refreshed on my secondary device, and I saw an offer that made me dizzy. 100 million credits, an offer higher than any other.
And I will be damned if I miss out on it.
