Forget Me Not

Price of Peace

Mavys clutched her bag tightly as she stepped off the bus, her head pounding with every movement. The night was unusually heavy, the alley she always passed through darker than usual. The loud crash of bottles and drunken laughter echoed from afar, and her gut twisted

something was wrong.

By the time she reached home, the sound became clearer: shouting. Her heart dropped.

The front door creaked open to chaos. Plates were shattered on the floor, chairs overturned. Her father, reeking of alcohol, shouted slurred curses while her mother screamed back, just as intoxicated. In the middle of it all, her siblings were trembling—little Sofia clutching Stefan tightly as he wailed, while Glen crouched beside them, his small arm bleeding from a fresh cut.

Mavys’s vision blurred with anger and tears. She dropped to her knees, rushing to her siblings, pulling them close.

“What the hell are you two doing?!” she screamed at her parents, her voice breaking. “Look at them! Look at what you’re doing to your own children!”

Her father sneered, waving her off. “Don’t meddle, Mavys. This is none of your business!”

“None of my business?” she shot back, her voice rising. “I break myself every day so you can eat! So they can live! And this is what you do? You hurt them?!”

Her mother scoffed, reaching for another bottle. “Don’t talk to me like you’re better than us! You’re just a child!”

Mavys’s hands trembled as she reached into her bag, pulling out the bundle of cash Mr. Han had slipped into her locket. With tears streaming down her face, she threw it at them. The bills scattered across the broken floor like fallen leaves.

“There! That’s what you want, right? Money?!” she shouted. “Take it all! If it means you’ll leave us alone for one night, just take it and go!”

For a moment, silence hung in the room. Then, without shame, her parents bent down, gathering the money with greedy hands. Not even sparing their children a glance, they stumbled out of the house, still muttering drunkenly to each other.

As the door slammed behind them, the weight of the moment crashed onto Mavys’s chest. She clutched her siblings tighter, whispering through tears, “I’m here… I'm here.”

Mavys’ hands trembled as she opened the small first-aid kit, the only thing in their house that seemed untouched by chaos. Glen winced when she gently pressed the cloth against his bleeding arm, but he didn’t complain—he never did. His eyes were tired, far too old for a boy his age.

“Hold still, Glen,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she cleaned the wound. “It’s just a scratch, but it could get worse if we don’t take care of it.”

Glen bit his lip and nodded, not wanting to add to her worry. The room was quiet now except for Stefan’s soft sobs muffled against Sofia’s chest as she rocked him to sleep on the old mattress. Sofia’s small hands brushed Stefan’s hair, whispering lullabies she’d heard from Mavys before, trying her best to be strong like her sister.

Mavys wrapped the bandage tightly around Glen’s arm, blinking away her tears. She wanted to break down, scream at the unfairness of it all, but she couldn’t—not when her siblings needed her.

“There,” she said softly, tying the last knot. “You were brave out there, thanks for holding on.”

For a moment, Glen just stared at her, and then his lips quivered. “Sis… why do they hate us? Why do they only care about money?”

Mavys froze, her chest aching at the question. She cupped his cheek with her clean hand, her eyes burning. “They don’t hate us, Glen… they’re just lost. But listen to me—you have me, you have Sofia, and you have Stefan. We have each other. That’s what matters.”

Glen nodded silently.

“And what’s this issue I’ve heard about—you punching your classmate?” she asked, her tone firm but gentle.

“Oh… it wasn’t my fault… he started it!” Glen muttered defensively.

“Still, you should’ve walked away.”

“Then what?!” Glen snapped, his voice rising. “They’ll just bully me again and call me a coward!”

“No, Glen,” she said, shaking her head softly. “Walking away isn’t being a coward. It’s being strong enough to rise above their childishness and face things with maturity.”

“It’s easy for you to say that!” Glen shouted, his hands trembling. “You weren’t in my shoes! You don’t know what it feels like to be bullied, to be called names, to never fit in! You didn’t struggle like I did, so you don’t understand! You don’t know! Because just like our parents—you’re never around either! You always choose your stupid job over us, your siblings—the ones who have to be the punching bags of those monsters we call parents!”

Before he could continue, a sharp sound cut through the room.

Sofia had slapped him.

“That’s enough,” Sofia said coldly, her eyes filled with tears.

Glen stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him. The echo lingered in the silence that followed.

Mavys placed the first aid kit back on the shelf, her hands trembling slightly. She turned to Sofia, who was still standing frozen, her palm stinging from the slap she gave her brother.

“You should rest now, Sofia,” Mavys said softly, her voice calm despite the heaviness in the air.

Sofia nodded, her eyes downcast, and quietly retreated to her room with Stefan.

Once the hallway fell quiet, I dragged myself back to my room, my head pounding like it was about to split in two. I opened my diary, the only place where I could empty the chaos of my thoughts.

“This morning started with a text that almost crushed me—the reminder about the bills piling up. I could barely breathe after reading it, but I didn’t even have time to process because Glen got himself into another fight. I had to rush to the principal’s office, my nerves frayed and my head aching even then. As if that wasn’t enough, the due date for the debt is creeping closer, suffocating me more each day.”

My hand trembled as I kept writing, the ink smudging slightly.

“The penthouse was no better. Trouble followed, noise and fear clawing at me until my migraine grew unbearable. Lex gave me medicine, but it only dulled the edges. I haven’t eaten anything all day—I couldn’t. My body feels like it’s shutting down, and this pain in my head—it feels like my skull will break apart.”

I closed the diary slowly, the words blurring in my vision. The throbbing in my head grew harsher, stealing the air from my lungs. With what little strength I had left, I lay down on the bed.

The migraine swallowed me whole, the darkness pressing in until I collapsed, my body finally giving out.