Chapter 3: The weight on my shoulders

I was sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs, with trembling hands and a pounding heart, as I waited for my turn with the bank manager. I would never have imagined that my father would sacrifice our house to pay for my studies, which I didn’t complete because my father got sick. It wasn’t his fault chose to dedicate all my time to working and taking care of him.

When I was called into the office, the man behind the desk greeted me with a formal and direct manner.

“We can only give you a two-week extension. If you can’t pay at least a thousand dollars by then, the bank will proceed to collect on your property, as indicated in the document I just handed you. That’s the best we can offer.”

When they called me early today, I didn’t think much of it and went to see my father to ask him about the supposed mortgage. Dad couldn’t hide it any longer; he admitted that he had put up our house for money more than two years ago. He told me he had kept up with the payments, but after he got sick and lost his job, he no longer had the means to continue paying.

My father, always so protective, always so strong. He never told me anything about the mortgage. He wanted to protect me; he wanted me to focus on my studies at that time. But now, that protection has become a heavy burden.

Flashback to the hospital moment

“Dad, is it true about the mortgage?” I asked, hoping it was all a misunderstanding.

“Yes, Emerson,” he whispered weakly. “I did it to pay for your studies. I wanted you to have a better chance in life. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” My voice broke with each word. “We could have found a solution together.”

“I didn’t want you to carry that weight,” he said, closing his eyes as if the effort to speak was too much. “I’m sorry, daughter.”

End of Flashback

“But that’s such little time…” My voice cracked as I was pulled back to reality.

I didn’t even have a hundred dollars in my pocket. How was I supposed to give them that amount? I also had no way of getting that money so quickly.

“I’m sorry, miss,” he said with a serious expression. “It’s the bank’s policy. We can only help you with the extension; we can’t do anything else for you.”

As I left the bank, a sense of suffocation filled me. Every step I took toward my car felt heavy, as if I were sinking and the ground was slowly swallowing me. For a few seconds, I stood in front of my car when I reached it.

“Two weeks. If I don’t get the thousand dollars, we’ll lose the house.” The words echoed in my mind.

I felt the tears wanting to escape, but I forced myself to hold them back. I didn’t want to cry in the street. Suddenly, an idea formed in my mind. It might have been desperate, but it just might work. I looked at my old car—this was my only option.

I got in and started it up. I drove quickly toward the city center, to a place where I knew I could get some money in exchange for… When I arrived a few minutes later, I looked up and read the large, wide sign: Lot for Buying and Selling New and Used Cars.

After parking, I got out and walked to the office, hoping to get at least some money for my sedan. There was a sign on the door with some information. It said I could borrow money using my car as collateral.

I felt a bit relieved at that moment, since I didn’t want to sell it. It might just be a material object, but to me, it was more than that. Besides, my dad had given me that car.

The man behind the counter gave me a strange look when I walked in, then smiled in a way that made me feel instantly uncomfortable.

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” he asked, his eyes running over my body inappropriately.

I swallowed hard and tried to keep my composure.

“I need to pawn my car. How much could you give me for it?” I explained, avoiding his gaze.

The man got up from his seat and walked out with me to the parking lot to inspect the car. He circled the sedan several times, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

“This car is junk, you know?” he said, looking at me with a crooked smile. “I can give you three hundred dollars if you pawn it. But if you decide to sell it, I might be able to get you three hundred more.”

I felt a knot in my stomach. Three hundred dollars wasn’t enough, but six hundred would be a good start. I clenched my fists and tried to ignore the feeling of disgust his gaze caused me.

“Can you guarantee me that you’ll give me six hundred dollars if I sell it?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

The man smiled lewdly.

“Yes, I can guarantee it. You’ll have six hundred dollars in those pretty hands when you sign the sales contract.”

I took a deep breath and nodded. I had no other choice. I believe a good can be used to fix a bad situation; I just hope this helps.

“Alright. I’ll sell it.”

He led me back to the office, and after a few minutes of paperwork, he handed me the cash. I put the six hundred dollars in my purse and quickly left the place, feeling an enormous weight lift from my shoulders. Now I had part of the necessary money, but I was still missing a bit more than half to save my home.

I returned home to store the money, then left again to go to the hospital. They had called me while I was waiting at the bank. They didn’t tell me exactly why they wanted to see me, just that I should present myself at the administration office.

As I crossed the pediatric hallway, something unexpected happened. I stumbled upon a little blonde girl with green eyes; her face was pale, and she seemed to have difficulty breathing. I reacted instinctively and grabbed her arms before she could fall to the ground.