The sun beat down mercilessly as I hunched over, balancing two buckets filled with a pungent, foul-smelling slurry on a rough yoke. Limping, step by painful step, I trudged toward the vegetable garden. My eyes were hollow, my movements automatic as I diligently spread manure on the cabbage plants.
I hadn't been allowed to eat lunch by my foster parents and to make matters worse, I had been severely beaten. After finishing the task in the garden, the world around me went dark, spinning uncontrollably. With a loud thud, I collapsed right there in the soil.
If I hadn’t somehow managed to drag myself out of the field, I would have likely stayed unconscious all day, possibly even slipping away quietly without anyone noticing.
From the moment I was born, my foster parents had schemed to swap me out. They brainwashed me from a young age, teaching me that my purpose was to support them and my fool of a sister so they could live the high life once I was recognized by a wealthy family.
But I severed ties with them without hesitation.
My foster parents despised me for abandoning them in pursuit of a life of luxury.