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I stared at my scuffed shoes. Mama had tried to make them look better with some permanent marker, but there was only so much you could do.
A flash of blonde, and I saw her—Mama—laughing and smiling at a man I could have sworn was at the meeting this morning. What was she doing?
I’d never seen her like that…so happy. She was never like that around me.
Minutes turned into what felt like hours, and I watched as my mother eventually took the man's hand, leading him away from the bar and deeper into the dimly lit restaurant. My stomach was growling–I was so hungry, and I wanted to leave…something about this place made me feel nervous.
I continued to wait in the dimly lit corner, feeling like a forgotten piece of furniture as I sat there. The low, unfamiliarmusic played on, and I glanced around uneasily, wishing that she would return soon.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they came out from wherever they had disappeared to. Mama’s hair was messy, and her lipstick was smeared, the edges of the red visible on her perfectly powdered skin.
But it was the smile on her face that scared me. There was something unsettling about it, something that made me fidgety. Although I didn’t quite know why.
The man leaned in to kiss her, grabbing her butt as he did so, and my belly churned as I watched in confusion. After a minute, she slowly pulled away and winked at him before striding towards where I was sitting.
Her smile was gone once she got to me. She grabbed my arm, her grip strong and painful like it had been all day, and she dragged me out of the restaurant and back to the car.
We started to drive, and then finally Mama turned to me, her voice low and menacing. "You're getting another chance tomorrow," she said, her words cutting through the air like a razor.
I nodded, unsure of what to say. How had she gotten me another chance? I couldn’t ask though, she’d just get mad at that.
“Look at me,” she growled, and then, without warning, she backhanded me across the face. It was a sharp, stinging pain that brought tears to my eyes. She’d screamed at me before obviously, dug her nails into my skin, shook me to get a point across…but she’d never hit me.
The shock of it twisted something inside me, leaving a strange, tingly feeling that spread throughout my chest.
Mama’s eyes bored into mine, and her voice was cold and threatening when she spoke again. "This is just the beginning,Olivia. If you mess up again, it won't be just a slap. You hear me? I’ll make you wish you were dead."
I nodded, the tears I’d been doing my best to hold in all day now streaming down my cheeks.
She scoffed at the sight of my pain, and the rest of the drive was done in silence.
The next morning found us back at the same place, and I couldn't shake the numbness that had settled over me since she’d slapped me. But maybe that was better than the scary feeling I’d felt yesterday.
Maybe.
Just like before, there was another knock on the door and the same assistant was there, her eyes widening when she saw us. "I’ve never seen someone get a second chance," she commented as she gestured us out into the hallway, clearly trying to get answers from my mother. “Lucky girl.”
Mama simply hummed, a slight smirk on her lips as we walked.
We were led into the same room where I had failed so badly the previous day, but this time…something had changed within me. The nerves that had bothered me were gone, replaced by that odd sense of detachment, like I wasn’t really standing there, and they weren’t really watching me. The men in suits stared at me with blank faces, the expectation from yesterday completely gone, like they were ready for me to fail again. The man from last night was seated on the right, and I saw him shoot my mother a wink.
I studied it all for a long moment, until my mother shifted, panic starting to creep into her features.
And then I opened my mouth…and I sang.
The notes flowed effortlessly from my lips, filling the room. I could do this. As Mama always told me, I wasn’t smart, and I wasn’t good for much else.
But I could sing.
I closed my eyes as the song flowed out, allowing the music to carry me away. I was singing “I Dreamed a Dream.” It had been Grandma’s favorite song, and she’d taught it to me when we would sing together at her house. She cried every time I sang it.
When I finally opened my eyes, I saw a glimmer of approval in the faces of the men who had watched me so closely. The man from last night nodded at Mama, and her whole body seemed to slump in relief.
Did that mean I’d done good…that she wasn’t going to be mad at me anymore?
The rest of the room got up, and just like yesterday, they started to leave.
The man from last night stopped in front of us, though. He was really handsome, with nice combed black hair and a suit that was sharp and crisp, like the fancy ones you saw on people in the movies.
