WHY ME

Annie's point of view The world felt too heavy for Annie’s small shoulders. Her mother’s soft laughter was now just a memory, faint and fragile like a song she could no longer recall the lyrics to. Cancer had stolen her warmth, her hugs, and her voice. Annie had been barely twelve when her father started drowning his grief in bottles, and alcohol slowly replaced the man he once was. She still remembered the night he stumbled out of the house, slurring promises he never returned to fulfill. Hours later, flashing police lights confirmed what she already feared. A major road accident. He was gone too. Now, all Annie had left was her ten-year-old brother, Caleb, and a pile of unpaid bills. She cooked for him, helped him with homework, tucked him in at night, and forced herself out of bed every morning to attend college because, somehow, she still believed she could make something out of this broken life. But even hope was expensive. “Look at her,” a girl’s voice sneered from across the campus yard. Annie stiffened. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The mocking tone belonged to Sasha, one of the campus “princesses.” Designer bags, glossy hair, rich father, spoiled to the core. “Poor little orphan,” Sasha continued loudly, her friends giggling around her. “Always acting like she belongs here, when we all know she’s only here because of charity scholarships.” The laughter that followed echoed like knives cutting into Annie’s back. She adjusted her grip on her old, fraying notebook, eyes fixed on the ground. If she ignored them, maybe they’d get bored. Maybe they’d leave. But bullies were never satisfied with silence. “Hey, Annie!” one of the boys shouted, his voice dripping with mockery. “Tell us—did you even have breakfast today? Or did you spend it all feeding that little street rat you call a brother?” The mention of Caleb made her chest tighten. Her jaw clenched, but she stayed quiet. Caleb didn’t deserve to be dragged into this. “What? Cat got your tongue?” Sasha stepped closer, her perfume heavy and suffocating. “Or maybe you’re just used to begging and staying quiet. That’s what people like you do, isn’t it? Beg and survive.” Annie’s knuckles whitened around her notebook. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she couldn’t afford detention, or worse, suspension. One wrong move and she could lose her scholarship. Caleb’s future depended on her finishing school. Still, the words cut deep, reopening wounds that never had time to heal. Her shoes were scuffed, her clothes plain compared to their flashy designer outfits. She wasn’t one of them. She didn’t belong. And life had a cruel way of reminding her—every single day—that she never would. “Say something, Annie!” one of the boys jeered, shoving her shoulder. She stumbled back, nearly dropping her notebook. Laughter erupted again, cruel and sharp. Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. Not here. Not in front of them. For a split second, she wished her father was still alive. Even in his drunken haze, at least he had been there. At least she hadn’t felt so invisible. But reality was merciless. as alone. Utterly, painfully alone. “Pathetic,” Sasha hissed, stepping forward as if to push Annie again—when the roar of an engine cut through the air. A sleek black car pulled up to the curb, its tinted windows reflecting the afternoon sun. Every head turned. Even Sasha froze, her hand suspended mid-air. The car door opened, and out stepped a man in a dark suit, tall and intimidating, his gaze cold as ice. He didn’t spare Sasha a glance. His eyes fixed straight on Annie. Whispers spread quickly. “Who is he?” “Look at that car…” “Is he… mafia?” Annie’s heart hammered. She didn’t know him. She had never seen him before. Yet the weight of his gaze pinned her in place, stealing the air from her lungs. The man walked closer, each step slow, deliberate, powerful. The crowd of bullies parted instinctively, their arrogance shriveling under his presence. When he stopped in front of her, Annie’s breath caught. “Annie Dawson?” His voice was low, commanding. Her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed hard. “Y-yes?” He studied her for a long moment, unreadable. Then his lips curved into the faintest, most dangerous smirk. “Your life is about to change.” Before she could react, he gestured to the car. Another man—broad-shouldered, silent—opened the back door. Annie’s pulse raced. Fear coiled in her stomach. She looked from the car to the stranger, then back at the bullies who were staring wide-eyed, their earlier confidence completely gone. Every instinct screamed at her to run. But her legs wouldn’t move. And deep inside, a small, desperate voice whispered the question that would haunt her forever: Why me?