A $50 Allowance and a 2000-Kilometer Escape Novel – My mom’s message arrived even before my $5000 paycheck did. [My dear, it’s payday today, right? Remember to send Mom four thousand for living expenses.] I paused, the reply suspended for a long moment. [Mom, my wisdom tooth is infected. I need to get it removed. Can I keep an extra five hundred this month?] A second later, my phone lit up with her call. “My dear, Mommy knows a tooth extraction only costs three hundred.
You really need to watch your spending. We have plenty of expenses at home.” “Tell you what, just transfer thirty-six fifty. I’ll let you keep fifty extra so you can buy something to help you recover from the tooth extraction” After hanging up, I went on Instagram to look for budget-friendly dental clinics. But instead, I found a photo of our dinner table, covered in piles of seafood. The caption read: [My son’s exhausted from soccer today.
Time to give him a good meal to recharge.] I tapped the profile, and all doubt vanished. It was my family’s account. Post after post showed my parents and younger brother living in easy, comfortable luxury. So I didn’t hesitate for another second. When the headhunter called, I accepted the offer and moved to a city two thousand kilometers away, determined to build a life far from home. …… My mom’s Instagram account named “Happy Family” had updated again half an hour ago. The photo showed Australian lobsters, live abalone, and scallops split open and drowned in garlic sauce.
My brother, Sinclair Collins, was holding a crab bigger than his entire face, grinning like the world adored him. My dad sat beside him peeling shrimp, while my mom held up her phone, the camera overflowing with affection. I locked my screen, the throbbing pulse from my inflamed wisdom tooth hammering against my skull, a fitting soundtrack for a family that treated me like an ATM and my brother like treasure.
Only my grandma, living far out in the countryside, still cared about me for real. I scrolled through my contacts and found the HR recruiter whose name I had saved as “Faraway–HR.” Then I sent a message. [Hello, may I ask if the Cloudville position you mentioned earlier is still available?] He replied instantly. [Miss Hope Collins? Our boss was very impressed with you, we’d be thrilled to have you anytime!] [Thank you. I can come next week to complete the onboarding process.] After setting down my phone, I opened my laptop, created a new document titled Resignation Letter, and sent it to my manager once it was done.
Three hours later, I was sitting in the chair of a tiny dental clinic. No anesthetic, since that would cost an extra one hundred fifty. I thought about my bank balance, hesitated, then shook my head. “Doctor, just pull it,” I said. “I can handle it.” The pliers went into my mouth. I heard a dull, sickening crunch as the pliers began to pry at the root. Pain seized every muscle, locking my jaw and tightening my chest. Cold sweat ran down my temples, stung my eyes, salty and sharp.
When the tooth tore free with a chunk of flesh, my vision went dark. The whole world spun, and only one thought screamed in my head. Endure it. This is step one. This is the price of escaping them. The dentist set the bloody tooth on the tray and gave me a thumbs-up. “Girl, you’re the toughest patient I’ve ever seen.” I rinsed my mouth and walked out of the clinic. The moment I stepped back into my tiny partition room, my mom’s rapid-fire calls exploded onto my screen.
I answered. Before I could speak, her voice slammed into me like a hammer. “Hope! What do you mean? How dare you quit your job!” I figured my manager must’ve told her about it, he was some distant relative of hers. “No special reason,” I said calmly. “I just didn’t want to work there anymore.” “You ungrateful brat, you think quitting is that simple? If you’re unemployed next month, what about the money for the household expense?” “Do you want the whole family to starve? Your brother’s about to start college, where do you expect the money to support him to come from?” Listening to her rage, I suddenly found it all absurd. “Mom, my salary is five thousand. Not fifty thousand.” “So what? Five thousand isn’t money now? Before you started working, you ate my food and lived in my house.
Now giving a bit to your brother is your duty!” “And that job — I found it for you! Are you trying to cut us off now that you’ve crossed the river?” I had been paying four thousand a month in “living expense” ever since I moved out after graduation. When I stayed quiet, she kept cursing. “You heartless thing! I raised you for nothing! Your wings got hard and now you want to fly, is that it?” “Let me tell you—you’re not shaking us off! You’ll support me, your father, and your brother for the rest of your life!” I listened quietly, letting her scream until she ran out of breath. When she finally paused,