The bus rocks from side to side as it travel the familiar roads, allowing passengers the time to daydream or rest. Some chatter over phones or with those sitting next to them. Some let themselves relax into the music they're listening to.

It was a surprisingly relaxing atmosphere, that had formed in the public transport… yet, despite all reasons, Mari could not find it in her to be anywhere near a state of relaxation.

The reason for it was very simple. She was late.

The reason, her having to take the next bus on the schedule due to the previous one's tire popping, didn't matter. Quite frankly nothing really mattered other than the fact that she was late, or it wouldn't to her parents. Meaning punishment.

Mari knew that, she'd accepted her fate, but it didn't stop the stress. Nor did it stop the speed of her feet rapidly twitching and tapping from increasing for every passing minute over the curfew.

To make matters worse, the sound of the tapping was rather clear over the general sound of chatter in the bus. Something that only caused Mari's anxiety to heighten as her mind kept telling her that she was bothering people, that those around her were annoyed, that she should stop tapping, which only caused the intensity of the tapping to increase in proportion to the anxiety.

So it was that, by the time her stop finally became visible in the distance, Mari's foot was all but vibrating.

Then the bus pulled up to her stop and all Mari could do was rush out the bus to try and get out before a queue of elderly passengers built up at the single exit. She failed of course, the medium heels she was made to wear—her mother's voice telling her that she needed to prepare for her future husband and promises of foot binding if she didn't wear them still sent shivers down her spine—did not lend themselves to fast movement and she was near the back half of the bus.

So she had to… talk. To the people in the queue that is.

"Excuse me," her heart pounded as she said that, "sorry, I really need to get through," she could feel the heat rushing to her head as she squeezed past, "I'm really late…"

Then, with heart beating wildly and her mind racing—constantly telling her that someone was looking at her and judging her—she was out of the bus.

A short five-minute speed walk, she couldn't manage much faster without going barefoot, and she was outside her home… and could see through the window that her father was sitting in the living room seat.

The TV was off, and he had no newspaper or tablet.

Her heart, previously racing from the forced social interaction and the speed walking in heels, was suddenly all too slow and deliberate as it jumped to her throat.

For just a moment she considered just not returning home.

She was twenty-one, she could get a job and just live by herself. She could just leave and never need to return.

Her shoulders sank.

That would never work. They had anything she could use for ID, they had full access to her bank accounts, and she remembered what happened the last time she tried it. When she had just turned eighteen.

… she still had the scar from that.

Better to accept what was going to happen now.

With that conviction made, Mari took a deep breath and walked up to the house that seemed so towering and rang the doorbell… she tried not to let the tears show as she heard the sound of footsteps through the door.

It'd really only make it worse.


"-and he offered us a hundred thousand for you!" she flinched as her mother shouted in her face, spittle flying as she waved the rolling pin in her face, "We could have taken the offer but we didn't, and this is how you repay us?"


Sitting curled up on her bed, trying to get her sobbing under control, Mari took deep shuddering breaths. Each one caused the ache in her ribs to flare up, the probable bruise from an unexpected punch she couldn't brace for. It made her attempts all the harder.

She looked at herself, the bruises on her upper arm and the nail scratches on her stomach, the tear in her shirt and her ruined textbook, the ones with the notes for tomorrow's test.

She tried to focus on the positives.

Her face wasn't damaged in any way, her parents wouldn't hurt the only thing her father's friend said he wanted to give money for, so all of it could be covered with some thicker clothes, and most of her coursework was available online too, even if it wasn't the same as her annotated notes.

"Alright Mari, calm down," she told herself, wiping her tears as she tried to do just that, "just focus on one thing at a time. You have a test tomorrow, you need to study."

The words weren't much in the way of reassurance, but they were enough. If barely.

Enough for Mari to be able to ignore the purposefully loud phone call of her fathers, of him talking about the price for her wedding with someone forty years her senior and-

"-and next time I'll snap your legs so you can't go meet those whore friends of yours."

- also ignore the empty threats from her mothers, focused on her friends that her father had cheated with. As if her friend had willingly allowed Mari's father to try and assault her. As if her friend, her former and only friend, hadn't cut contact with Mari after that incident.

… but ignoring past grievances, that she was too afraid to voice even in the confines of her room, Mari focused on studying for the coming exam.

Which she did… until a loud noise from outside the house distracted her.

Then there was just loudness, pain like she'd never felt before, why did it hurt so much, why was she burning? What was going on? Wha-


Myra shot up from her desk, her heart pumping wildly as fear surged through her body, looking around wildly. It was only when she took in her surroundings, and remembered where she actually was, did she calm down.

She had just seen Votusax's insane status sheet…

… wait, where was she at?

Oh right, she had seen that status sheet and had been writing down her plans in the journal, after putting up all privacy measures of course. Speaking of which…

Myra blandly looked at the notebook, the drool stain on it that smudged the ink, and sighed before ripping out the affected page and disintegrating them. Then she got back to re-writing everything on there.

… both parts of her quietly just suppressed the memories associated with that nightmare again.