Worth Any Price (Novella)

Chapter One: Offer

Anri

I TUCKED the stray hair behind my ear and held my book close to my chest. I close my eyes and I imagine myself being carried to the field of daisies by the man I love. He's a faceless man in my mind, but I don't really care. Everytime I read the final page of a book, I'll always end up daydreaming like I'm the heroine and that my knight in shining armor is holding me, kissing me. How does it feel like to be kissed? To be touched by warmth of another person's skin?

I heard my mother mutter obscenities and my father's grunt as the two of them fill the house with the bed creaking and the loud orgasms from them. I don't mind them, though. I usually wear my noise-cancelling headphones when my parents are having s*x but this time, it doesn't do anything to block the noise. They're noisier than usual. That only means that they're both horny and in need of a rough s*x.

I understand that s*x is good. I touched myself a few instances just to take the edge off. I'm only a human being with urges. I learned that from books and from the internet.

It also broadened my perspective in life. I knew within me that I just don't want a prince charming. I knew deep inside me—in the darkest part of me—that the prince charming I want is a devil.

I want a prince charming who f***s hard. A prince charming who will take me to the fields and f**k me under the blue skies. I want to grasp the daisies on the field as I orgasm hard. I want it all. Everything.

Nobody knows how messed up my fantasies are. Because I'm considered beautiful by the majority, they see me as a woman with no flaws. It didn't help that my doe eyes seemed to sparkle innocence when in fact, I'm far from being an innocent. I have fetishes. I may be technically a virgin but I don't consider myself that. I've touched myself in the thoughts that someone is doing it instead of my hand. I sometimes imagine being f****d in the barn on top of a hay pile.

I sighed. Of course, I write each of my fantasies in my diary but they are censored. Instead of writing, My dream is to be f****d against the door, I write, I wish someone will kiss me as my back is pressed against the door.

Instead of writing, I want someone to f**k me anywhere he likes without a care if the whole world sees it, I write, I wish that a man would kiss me whenever and wherever he wants.

Nothing about me is innocent. I'm f****d-up. Sometimes, I blame genetics. My parents are wild individuals, having s*x whenever they want. I refer to them as "bunnies" in my diary because they f**k like bunnies. I even ponder how come they only had one child throughout the years of being together.

Even though my parents are shitty, they didn't neglect me. They ignore my presence in the house, yes, but they always make sure that I have my daily necessities. Maybe because they saw me as a maid; cleaning after them and doing every house chores. But I don't mind, though. They buy me books and pay for my k****e unlimited, too. As long as I keep the house clean, I'm good. As long as I keep doing my side hustles as a cleaning lady around my neighborhood, then there won't be a problem.

I heard a knock from the front door and because my parents are still going at it, I decided to answer the door myself.

A young woman smiled at me and handed me a flier, saying "Hello" as I smiled back. Judging by her accent, I think she's from Australia. "I heard from the neighborhood that you do side hustles as a cleaner?"

I tried to appear more friendlier when I noticed that the woman is a little tense. I can see her clenched fist on the side of her hip. "Yes. Who's asking?"

"I really need a caretaker for my vacation house in the village near the border of East Texas. I'm Asian and we have this belief that if a house is inhabited for a long period of time, entities such as ghost can take residence. If you're interested, would you be a caretaker for a year? All expense included. I will even provide your needs, even toiletries."

Well, that's a straightforward offer. I like clients like her. They don't beat around the bush.

"How much is the salary?"

"Sixty thousand a year. Plus, we will pay you extra if the contract ends."

My jaw dropped. The offer is too good to be true.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck is rising. It is as if someone's staring at me.

I started to look around the dirty neighborhood but all I see is a tinted car parked near the sidewalk. It might be this lady's car.

I squinted my eyes a bit, wondering if I'm just imagining things.

"Well, I have to ask my parents for permission. Is your house far from here?"

The lady nodded. "Yes. A hundred miles, at least."

Really, it's not a bad offer. It's generous, considering that I just finished Senior High and still doesn't have any plans for college since I don't have the money to pay for tuition and the dorm. I'm not planning to pursue any serious career at the moment so...

I bit my lower lip, pondering what to do. I really want the job. With that money and the small fortune I set aside from my small inheritance— thanks to my late grandfather— I could buy a small house in a peaceful village just like what I dreamed of. Maybe, I'll be content with a peaceful life, enjoying my books as I sit in front of a great view of the fields in the morning.

I told the lady that I'll be thinking about the offer and she said that she really needs my answer by today or she'll have no choice but to find someone else. She even emphasized the word "today" like she's so desperate and is running out of time. By the looks on her face, I can tell that she's panicking because I replied that I will think about her offer.

I brought it up to my parents over dinner but they don't seem to care. They just nod and nod as if I'm not talking.

"Do what you want. Just don't drag us into your mess," my mother said with an annoyed look. I know that she hates a dirty house and with me leaving, no one will do the cleaning around here anymore.

"Tell your man to not go here ever again," my dad whispered under his breath. His right eye has a slight bruising around it and I don't know where he got it from. I just saw it on his face yesterday when I came home from the market and they're giving me nasty looks since then.

I frowned. Man? What is he talking about? Did I hear him right? As soon as my parents went inside their room, I cleaned up the kitchen so I'll have plenty of time to pack.

I'll take the job. There's no future here, anyway. It's not as if I'm losing anything here.