Engagement
515 Words
“Tara… Tara… get the f**k out of your bed!”
Talia’s voice tore through my sleep like a whip.
“It’s my engagement day. How dare you still lie there? Get up!”
I forced my eyes open, my head throbbing, my body screaming in pain. Every muscle ached. I was exhausted—yesterday I worked until my hands trembled and my feet bled. I worked like an animal.
No one asked if I was tired.
No one cared if I ate.
I dragged myself up from my old, broken bed inside the smallest room of the house—the room that proved I didn’t belong. The walls were cracked, the ceiling stained, and the air always felt heavy, as if even the house knew I was unwanted.
We were a middle-class family, but my sister lived like royalty.
Talia Williams—beautiful, brilliant, flawless.
The pride of the family.
The daughter worth loving.
She studied in an elite college filled with billionaire heirs. She didn’t just belong there—she ruled it. Famous, admired, worshipped. And now, one of those billionaire heirs had chosen her.
My parents were glowing. Not because their daughter was getting married—but because their escape had arrived. Money. Status. A future where they would never have to work again.
And me?
I was the reminder of everything they despised.
“Look at your sister,” they always said.
“Look at her grades.”
“Look at her beauty.”
“Look at her future.”
Then they looked at me—with disgust.
No grades worth praising.
No beauty worth noticing.
No intelligence worth acknowledging.
I paid my own tuition. I bought my own clothes. I earned every breath I took in that house. And yet, even that wasn’t enough.
To them, I wasn’t a daughter.
I was a burden they couldn’t wait to get rid of.
I studied in a college where most students came from middle-class or poor families—people like me. No designer clothes. No flawless beauty. No fantasy lives. Just tired eyes, worn shoes, and dreams held together by hard work.
Most of us worked. Some part-time. Some full-time. All of us struggling just to pay tuition fees and survive another semester. We weren’t admired. We weren’t noticed. But we were strong.
I worked two jobs alongside my studies.
One in the morning.
One late into the night.
While others slept, I cleaned, served, lifted, and smiled through pain. I studied under dim lights, my eyes burning, my hands shaking from exhaustion. I didn’t have time to dream. Survival didn’t allow fantasies.
I wasn’t beautiful like my sister.
I didn’t wear fancy dresses.
No one ever turned to look at me twice.
But I worked harder than anyone I knew.
Every mark I earned came from sleepless nights.
Every fee I paid came from bleeding hands.
Every breath I took came with effort.
And still… none of it mattered.
Because no matter how much I tried,
I would never be enough in a house that had already decided I was nothing.
- Writer
