2 – Alethea (2)

Alethea wasn’t a money-printing machine. She was just an ordinary girl in her early twenties. Compared to her peers, she had already sacrificed so much. She refrained from buying things she wanted, eating food she liked, purchasing clothes she desired, or even hanging out with her friends—all so she could fulfill her parents’ needs.

It wasn’t that Alethea was stingy, nor that she didn’t want to be dutiful. She simply couldn’t keep up with her parents’ constant demands, especially those of her mother.

She wasn’t exceptionally smart academically, though she was diligent in her studies. Her parents’ hope for her to pursue education through scholarships didn’t align with reality. In the end, she didn’t earn scholarships for academic excellence but instead became a student receiving aid because of her family’s financial struggles.

Ashamed? No. Alethea understood her parents’ situation and accepted it, even though she was often looked down upon. She knew she couldn’t attend extracurricular classes like her friends. But when her educational aid came through, and she asked to use it for a skills course, her mother refused.

“What’s the point of taking a cooking class? Watch and help me in the kitchen. You’ll learn naturally over time. Paying for an expensive course using our own ingredients—what’s the use?” Hera said when Alethea expressed her desire to enroll in a cooking course.

“You want to take a sewing class? Have you thought about where the money will come from? From the government’s education aid? Do you think that’s enough?” Hera asked sharply. “Sure, it’s enough—but only for the registration f*e. What about the rest? How about a sewing machine, pattern-making materials, fabric, thread, and everything else? Do you have the money to buy those?

“And what do you plan to sew? Are you thinking of starting a business that will compete with Mrs. Quentin’s? Do you want to stir up trouble between me and her?” That was her mother’s response when Alethea expressed interest in taking a sewing class.

“Find a business that doesn’t require capital,” Hera ordered at another time. And Alethea did just that.

Since graduating high school, Alethea had never been unemployed. Even during school, she had worked as a babysitter, taking care of a neighbor’s child after classes just to earn pocket money. Alethea never received any allowance from her parents.

When she couldn’t afford transportation to school, she walked. For meals, she always brought whatever food was available at home—a piece of bread, a fried egg, or leftover dinner reheated in the morning.

And Alethea never complained. She didn’t demand anything because she understood her parents’ limitations. Still, there were moments when she felt envious—especially of her younger brother, Teon.

For Teon, their parents seemed willing to do anything. They would go to any lengths, even pawn off what little they had, to provide for him, making the impossible possible, even if it was beyond their means.

Futsal shoes. Futsal uniforms. Class jackets. Even language courses and other expenses—her parents were willing to pay for Teon.

While Alethea was only given a single egg, her parents made sure to provide sausages and nuggets for Teon. And do you know what her mother said when Alethea protested?

“Teon is a boy. He needs more food than you. He has to grow up strong and smart to have a bright future. He needs to get a well-paying job because, later on, he won’t just be supporting his wife and children, but he’ll also have to help me as I get older.”

“Meanwhile, you, in the end, will just get married and follow your husband. You won’t help us at all. And I’m not even sure you’ll find a husband better than your father,” she said, casting a glance at Darius, Alethea’s father, who was testing a saw in their yard.

Why did she have to be treated this way? Why was she being neglected? Who knew what the future held for Alethea or Teon?

In their parents' eyes, everything they had given to Alethea so far was a debt. But for Teon?

“Teon needs money for his study tour. Don’t forget to give him his pocket money, too. Don’t let his friends be able to buy snacks while your little brother is left out,” her mother said when Teon had an event at school. Meanwhile, whenever the same thing happened for Alethea, her mother would always claim there was no money.

Alethea wanted to close her ears. She wanted to stop fulfilling her mother’s demands. Why did it always have to be her who took care of Teon’s needs? Why was she the one responsible for her brother?

But up until now, Alethea had never spoken up about it directly because if she did, she might receive a ‘hard slap,’ in the literal sense.

To avoid any more insults from her mother, Alethea had already started working as a store clerk before receiving her graduation certificate. And despite her small salary, her mother still found a reason to criticize her.

 “I sent you to school not to become a lowly server. Find another job with a higher salary. Or get a uniformed job so that you’ll look more respectable and not embarrass me.”

Fortunately, after receiving her diploma, Alethea was able to get a “uniformed” job, even though it was only as a waitress at a fast food restaurant. But once again, her mother was not satisfied.

“Do you know how embarrassed I am because of Mrs. Clementin’s gossip? She said that when she came to the restaurant, she was served by you.”

“Of course, I served her because I work there,” Alethea replied as gently as she could, though she was struggling to hold back her anger. What else was wrong? What else was lacking? What more did she have to do?

“When you said you were working at a restaurant, I thought you were working as an admin or cashier. At least something that doesn’t make you a target to be pointed at or treated like a doormat by others. It’s shameful. Why don’t you just hide in the kitchen and become a dishwasher?!” her mother sneered as she walked away. “Do you really want to see your mother continuously humiliated and degraded by the neighbors?”

“Mom, I can’t just pick the job I want. The position available was for a waitress, and I can’t just ask my boss to transfer me to another team,” Alethea tried to explain.

“I’m ashamed in front of my friends. Anton saw his sister working as a waitress when he went out to eat with his family. The next day, he embarrassed me in class,” Teon joined in.

“Then where should I work? Besides, why should you be embarrassed? Is working as a restaurant server really so beneath you? My job is better than serving those wealthy men with bad intentions out there.”

“For me, it would be better if you served wealthy men with bad intentions out there. Look at Caroline, everyone knows she’s a mistress, but no one dares criticize her openly because she has a lot of money.

“And that’s what will happen to you too, if you serve the right people. Not only will your life be better, but we’ll live well too.”

“Have you lost your mind? Shouldn't you forbid me from doing such a thing?” Alethea screeched in annoyance.

“What for? If there's a man who wants you, even if he's an old man, I'll sell you to him.”  Hera said, causing Alethea to stare at her in disbelief. “Even if the rumor about Lord Eulogio looking for a new wife is true, I will gladly nominate you as a candidate.

“As long as you're willing to be his young wife, you'll be known as the palm oil magnate's wife. Our lives will be prosperous, even richer than Caroline's.” Her mother continued as she walked away, leaving Alethea to stare at her mother in horror.

Marrying a sixty-year-old man? Would her mother be so willing to sell her?

Then should Alethea do it so that her mother would stop suing her? Should Alethea really sell herself? After all, she wasn't too ugly either, as long as she dressed up properly, she was sure she could attract the attention of men. Her body was also not too skinny so if she wore revealing clothes, she was sure she could invite men to touch her body. Alethea just needed to raise her selling price.

But she didn't. Alethea was not willing to sacrifice her soul. At least, if there was no pride left, there was at least one thing she was proud of. That was her virginity.