The Slave of Pleasure
Chapter 3

Rachel

I got home not sure how I managed to put one foot in front of the other. The door closed behind me with a sharp click, the sound echoing through the small apartment that now seemed emptier than ever. I threw the bag on the floor, not caring where or how it fell, and let myself collapse onto the couch, feeling the weight of the world crush my chest. Hot tears fell from my eyes before I could even try to stop them. It didn't make any difference; I was alone, with no one to see how broken I was.

The sun was still high outside, but inside, everything seemed shrouded in a dark fog of despair. My eyes wandered around the apartment, seeing things in a blur: the vase of dried flowers in the corner, the framed photos of my mother, smiling on better days, and the papers scattered on the table-bills, hospital forms, constant reminders of everything. what I was about to lose. Every detail seemed to mock me, reminding me of the failure I had become.

I stood up with effort, going to the small coffee table where the papers were stacked in a disorganized manner. My hands shook as I tried to organize the mess, but it was useless. The tears continued to fall, and the feeling of helplessness only increased. I knew I needed to stop, I needed to breathe, but all I could do was cry, sob in the midst of a whirlwind of thoughts.

"How am I going to pay for the hospital now? How am I going to keep my mother alive?" The questions echoed in my mind, each one more painful than the last. I needed that job. I needed the salary, the stability, anything that could keep me on my feet while I fought for it. But now... now, everything was falling apart, and I had no ground left.

My fingers clutched one of the hospital bills, and I stared at it as if it were a death sentence. Seven thousand dollars. Seven thousand dollars just for this month's meds. As if that were possible now, as if there was any chance of me getting that money in time. Once again, tears filled my eyes again, and I tore up the paper, feeling frustration explode inside me. I tore up another, and another, until all the papers were in shreds on the floor, as if that would bring me some kind of relief. But he didn't bring it. It only increased the emptiness that was already growing inside me.

I sat on the floor, surrounded by the torn pieces of paper, and hugged my knees, feeling more lost than ever. "What am I going to do? How am I going to get out of this?" I whispered to myself, as if the words could bring me any answers. But the only answer I found was silence. The apartment, the world, seemed to be abandoning me, as well as my willpower.

I laid my head on my knees, letting the tears flow freely now. I was exhausted, destroyed, with no idea how to move forward. All I knew was that somehow I needed to replace a way out. I needed to save my mother. But the question that continued to haunt me was: how far would I be willing to go to do this? And would I be able to live with the consequences?

My phone rang, snapping me out of the daze I was in. The screen glowed with the name of Melissa, my best friend. It took me a few seconds to decide whether to answer or not, but deep down, I knew I needed to hear her voice, I needed any kind of support at that moment. I quickly wiped away the tears and answered.

"Hi, Mel," my voice was low and broken, and I knew she would notice immediately.

"Rachel, are you okay?" The concern was evident in her voice, and it made a lump tighten in my throat even more. I tried to respond, but the words stuck on my tongue.

"No... Mel, can you come here? I really need to talk to you." My voice was shaking, but I managed to force the words out.

"I'm on my way," she replied without hesitation. Melissa has always been like this, ready to help me, to be by my side in good and bad times. And now, I needed her more than ever.

I hung up the phone and sat down on the couch again, trying to organize my thoughts. How was I going to tell Mel that I had been fired? That the only source of income I had to keep my mother in the hospital simply evaporated before my eyes? I felt so ashamed, so useless, but I knew I needed to tell her.

Time seemed to drag by until I finally heard the soft knock on the door. I opened it, and there was Mel, with that worried expression that made me want to cry again. She walked in and wrapped me in a tight hug, without saying a word. That simple gesture was all I needed to feel a little less alone.

"Rachel, what happened?" she asked gently, pulling me onto the couch.