Melanie had long come to terms with the fact that her family did not like her. They often "forgot" to wake her up for school, so she became a light sleeper in order to get to school on time.
As a kid, she got amazing grades, but they only praised her siblings, who barely put in the work and got average grades.
When she burnt out and started slacking in school, they reprimanded her. But when her homeroom teacher suggested therapy following her recurring anxiety and panic attacks, they brushed it off with the classic "we can't afford it" card.
They then proceeded to buy her little sister a pony and her older brother a new car despite his old one being in perfect condition, all in the same month. Her brother was tired of his old car, and her sister wanted to live a Disney life.
When she attempted to end her life and was found lying in a pool of blood, they admitted her to the hospital out of responsibility only to drag her back home after a day because the doctors had been asking too many questions.
No one asked her how she felt and just proceeded on with their lives like nothing had happened. Of course, they gave her a few dirty looks here and there and even lectured her about family pride and whatnot. Somehow, that was still not the worst way they had treated her.
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"Melanie!! Get down here!" Her mother had screamed one Saturday afternoon. She usually avoided her family by staying in her room all day and only coming downstairs when no one was around. She had been moved to the attic when she was ten because her little sister wanted a room of her own and they had no more bedrooms since the parents had only "planned" to have two kids.
They lived in a three-bedroom house. The master bedroom was Miles's; the oldest, he had his own room. Melanie had her own, too, until Mikayla came along when she was five, and so they had to share a room. However, five years later, little Miss Mikayla wanted a room of her own, so Melanie had to move out. Her only option had been the attic. She cleaned and organized it herself. They only helped with moving her bed. Mikayla even took her wardrobe because she wanted a bigger one.
So, Melanie had to use hampers and suitcases to store her clothes. If those people could, they'd have charged her rent.
Anyways, Melanie hurried down the stairs before the woman got any angrier. She was met with a scene of everyone around the dining table.
Her mother sized her up and down and clicked her tongue in disapproval. She hated Melanie's style so much.
Everything Melanie did annoyed her. She was clumsy, short, insecure, and so many other things she didn't like.
Melanie stood awkwardly by the table until her father said in a rare good tone, which was rarely directed towards her.
"Take a seat; we have something to tell you." He even added a smile. He always seemed like he couldn't care less about her.
While her mother quarreled and lectured her, her father merely glanced at her once every so often. He was so indifferent and let his wife do as she pleased half the time. The other half, they were arguing about the presence of his illegitimate children.
Melanie occupied the only free seat, which was by her brother, who was busy texting. She had a terrible feeling about the whole situation. She last sat by these people when she was ten. It had been six years since then.
"So, Mr. Dechanmilla is sending someone to pick you up tomorrow morning. You're going to go shopping with your mother this evening. Remember to behave yourself as you live with them, and don't shame us. Be a good wife and leave your irresponsible habits in this house, okay?"
Melanie was so confused. Who on Sarah was Mr. Dechan—or whatever his name was—and in which world was a 16-year-old getting sent off to marriage? It's the 21st century, for crying out loud.
"I'm sorry, what?" She said, scanning the faces of the people around her. Her mother rolled her eyes, Miles didn't even look up from his phone, and Mikayla actually chuckled. She tapped her manicured hands on the table as she watched, genuinely amused.
"Which part of what I said did you not understand?" Her father started to look impatient. Without waiting for her to respond, he continued, "Look, I know you don't really do much in this house except steal food and live comfortably under our roof, but it's okay; this is your chance to make it up to us, okay?
I took out a loan about two years back to cover some expenses, and this house ended up tied up in that mess. Of course, we can't live on the streets, and thankfully, the other party was kind enough to offer the option of marrying you off to them to have the debt cleared. They also bubbled some nonsense about me working for free for a year or something like that. Whatever they saw in you, I don't want to know; you're their problem now."
Melanie was beyond flabbergasted. What on earth was this man saying? So he married her off to clear a debt? In what world is that acceptable and normal?
"You don't have any decent clothes, so get your hopeless self up, and we'll go shopping so that you don't make us lose whatever face we have left in front of those bastards." Her mother added for good measure and proceeded to yank Melanie up. Dazed, she followed her out the door, and that was the last thing she remembers from that day.
She blacked out on the way out and only woke up two days later in a fancy hospital room.
Waking up, she found her surroundings extremely odd. She tried to get up but felt a bit weak. Just then, a woman walked in. She was dressed in a three-piece suit. Noticing that she was awake, she smiled warmly at her and approached her.
One thing people commented about Melanie was that she was a slow reactor. She didn't register the stranger until she was asking how she was feeling.
"I'm fine, thanks." She responded.
"That's good to know. My name is Claire Bailey, and I've been assigned as your personal assistant."
"Oh, ok .....h-huh?!"
The lady smiled once again and turned on her iPad. She must really like smiling. Melanie thought.
Claire, on the other hand, found her amusing. She scrolled on her iPad for a bit before turning her attention back to Melanie.
"You lost consciousness a few days back, most likely due to stress or shock, or both." She paused, watching for her reaction. When she got none, she continued, "Mr. Dechanmilla had a marriage agreement with your family following the failed collection of debts. He has planned for you to marry his son when you're of age, but for now, you have to be integrated into a new world. Your new world. You will be trained to become a true elite and the future wife of the only son and possible heir to Decha Group. Any questions?"
Melanie wasn't shocked that she had fainted. Surely, neither had her family been shocked. They were used to it. They called it one of her attention-seeking tactics; she called it a coping mechanism. All credit goes to the numerous hours spent doing psychology research to enable her to live a more normal life.
What shocked her, though, was how nonchalant everyone happened to be concerning the whole marriage situation. She had a lot of questions but didn't ask any of them. She rarely got answers when she did ask anyway.
Claire stared at her for a while. She felt bad for the girl. Through a bit of research, they had gotten an idea of what her life was like.
Her boss didn't seriously consider marrying a 16-year-old off to his 17-year-old son. He only says that to his debtees because he's sure no one would agree to such an odd demand. They usually gave up the pledged property or worked for free for a certain amount of time. The approval from Melanie's parents had surely shocked him. He decided to go through with the marriage.
However, he was going to raise her like his daughter until she turned 18, and if she wanted to marry his son, she'd let him, and if she didn't, she'd officially be adopted, and he would look for another suitable person for her when she desired to get married. After all, arranged marriage was the tradition in his family.
They first had to heal her and make her forget her unfortunate past.