Episode 1 - The Unplanned Arrival!
I was never part of the plan. Not for my parents, not for my siblings, not for anyone.
Before I came along, my family lived in a cramped one-room apartment with peeling blue paint curling at the corners. The ceiling leaked when it rained, so Dad would place old pots and buckets around the room to catch the steady drops. Our kitchen was barely big enough for one person to stand in, and the sound of the neighbor’s television was sometimes louder than our own voices.
Life was hard. Dad worked two jobs — a factory clerk by day and a grocery store assistant at night — just to keep the lights on. Mum washed clothes for neighbors, standing for hours at a plastic basin until her fingers wrinkled. Responsibilities were high, money was low, and dreams were a luxury my parents simply couldn’t afford.
Then came that night.
I don’t know all the details, but from the way Mum’s eyes soften when she remembers it, I know it was different. It was one of those rare evenings when everything felt lighter. Dad had just been paid, Mum had saved a little from her laundry work, and they decided to celebrate in their own small way. No fancy dinners or wine — just laughter, the warm glow of a kerosene lamp, and an old radio playing songs from their youth.
For the first time in a long while, they weren’t talking about bills or debts. They were talking about life, about silly things they did when they were younger. Maybe it was the music, maybe it was the relief of forgetting their worries for a while, but that night they let go.
And from that night, I happened.
When Mum found out she was pregnant, she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh. My eldest brother was already sixteen, my sister was fourteen, and the youngest — at the time — was twelve. Another baby? At their age? With the little they had?
They called me an accident at first. A mistake. Another mouth to feed when they were already drowning in bills. They didn’t hate me at least I hope not but I wasn’t a child they had prayed for. I was the child who simply showed up.
But life has a strange way of rewriting its own stories.
The day I was born, Dad got a phone call offering him a better job at a company he had applied to years ago and forgotten about. The same week, Mum’s laundry business suddenly exploded with customers. She gained three new clients in a single day, each one paying generously. Within two months, they had saved enough to leave that tiny apartment and rent a bigger house with actual bedrooms.
It became a quiet family legend: Salem came, and blessings followed. Some called me lucky. Others said I was blessed. My mother’s friends even told her I was a gift from God to change their destiny.
But my siblings? They didn’t see me that way.
By the time I could talk, they were already living in their own worlds — school, friends, early jobs, and relationships. They saw me as the extra child who didn’t quite belong. And maybe I didn’t.
We barely spoke. They were busy with their lives, and I was the quiet little sister who spent most of her time in her room with a book. I was smart — at least that’s what every teacher said. I brought home perfect grades, trophies, and certificates with my name in bold letters.
But nobody really celebrated.
Sure, Mum would smile and say “Well done, Salem,” and Dad would pat my head before returning to his paperwork. My siblings would glance at my awards like they were nice decorations but nothing worth discussing. Sometimes I wondered if they were proud of me or if I was just… there.
Still, I kept my achievements to myself. My thoughts. My dreams. My fears. Everything stayed inside. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share — I just didn’t know how.
The truth is, I felt invisible. Loved, yes. But seen? Not really.
And yet, for some reason, I never stopped trying. Maybe I believed that if I kept doing better, if I kept winning, they’d finally look at me like I belonged.
I didn’t know it then, but change was already on its way. It would come quietly, folded inside an envelope, with my name written in neat black ink.
A letter. Just one letter.
It hadn’t arrived yet, but in a few days, it would be in my hands. And when it came, it would start the shift that turned my life — and my family — upside down.
That would be the day Salem, the mistake, began her journey to becoming a masterpiece.
After all these thoughts, I didn’t even know when it got dark. Few minutes after, I dozed off
