A Second Chance to Love You

“What the hell is wrong with you, girl? Can’t you let this family have a single peaceful day?” My stepfather’s voice echoed throughout the small house, as though I had just committed some unforgivable crime. I lowered my voice and replied, “Dad, I just want to continue my studies and go to university. With my grades, I can get into any school I want. Why won’t you and Mom let me go?” “Do you seriously think this family has enough money to support you in a big city, you stupid girl?” my mother snapped. “Mom, Dad, I can study and work part-time at the same time. You won’t have to send me much money. I promise.” My stepfather’s expression hardened. “I said no. No means no. That money is for your younger brother. Even if you go to university and get a degree, you’ll just end up getting married someday. What good will that do for this family then? Your brother, on the other hand, can study, make something of himself, and take care of us when he grows up. You should just go find a job like the other girls in the village and help us pay for your brother’s education.” And just like that, my dream of leaving the countryside behind and going to university in the city was crushed by my own family. While girls my age were packing their clothes and belongings, preparing to embark on a new chapter of their lives, I could no longer hold back my tears. I ran away to the top of the mountain, where no one could see me in my weakest, most helpless state. I kept telling myself that I was only seventeen, and that was why I had no say in how my life turned out. But someday, when I had earned enough money and was old enough to make my own decisions, I would never let anyone dictate my life again. I stared down at the houses scattered beneath the mountain, then lifted my eyes toward the endless blue sky above me. The ache in my heart only grew deeper. For twelve years, I had worked so hard at school. Even when we were poor, even when my clothes and textbooks were hand-me-downs, even when I had to study while helping my aunts and the other women at the market to earn a little extra money for my school fees, I never complained. Because I knew that getting into university was my only way out. It was my only chance to reach the city. My only chance to escape this deeply rooted preference for sons over daughters. My name is Fora. By now, you probably have a pretty good idea of what my life was like. There was nothing particularly remarkable about being seventeen. I was a pretty girl with fair skin, a slender figure, and long hair that I always kept neatly tied back. But my hands were rough and calloused from working at the market day after day. Sometimes, I even had to admire myself for making it through those dark days, one after another. What could anyone possibly expect from a seventeen-year-old girl? Apparently, my parents expected everything. --- Every morning, they made me wake up early and go to the market to help clean and set up the stall so that my younger brother could sleep in. After that, I would rush to the textile factory and work there. The same routine repeated itself every day. Only when payday came did I finally get to see a smile on their faces. “Fora, you’re still young. You shouldn’t be keeping such a large amount of money yourself. Just let Mom hold on to it for you. If you ever need anything, I’ll give it back to you.” If I had been fourteen or fifteen, I probably would have believed her. But I had already celebrated my eighteenth birthday. I was no longer that naive little girl who blindly believed that things were always as innocent as they seemed. “Okay, Mom. Then let me keep my salary. If I ever need anything in the future, at least I won’t have to come asking you for money.” My mother’s expression immediately darkened. Then she raised her voice and began shouting. “You think this house is some kind of charity? What money do you think you eat with? What money pays for your daily expenses? What about the electricity and water bills?” I had grown far too accustomed to my mother’s way of making a scene. But this time, I was simply exhausted. “I give you part of my salary every month. Have you forgotten? If you’re still unhappy with that, I’ll just move into the textile factory. The employees have dorm rooms there anyway, so I won’t have to pay for accommodation.” My mother’s attitude changed immediately. “Oh, no. I was only saying. Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything?” She turned and walked away. I sank down onto the floor. My mother wasn’t afraid that I would leave. She was afraid that once I left, no one would send her money anymore. My stepfather spent his days drinking, while my younger brother spent his days playing video games. The only ones who worked were my mother and me. I helped contribute to the household expenses, thinking that at least it would ease some of the burden on her. But perhaps my mother had never understood me. Maybe it had always been too difficult for her to love me. Or perhaps, from the moment I was born, she had carried nothing but resentment toward me. Because I was nothing more than the daughter she had accidentally had with my biological father. Because of me, my mother had been forced to abandon her dreams, return to this rural village, and give birth to me. As for my biological father, everything I knew came from the stories my grandmother had told me. He had gone abroad and disappeared without a trace. No one knew where he was or how to find him. He had simply left my mother behind and walked away. And somehow, all the resentment she carried toward him was poured onto me, day after day. My grandmother had raised me from the time I was little. Those years were the happiest part of my childhood. Later, my mother remarried and had my younger brother with my stepfather. After Grandma passed away, I was finally brought back to live with my mother. But perhaps I had made a mistake back then. Perhaps I was wrong to ever wish for a family.