JANICE POV
"Mummy, stop! Please, stop! Don't do this!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face, pleading with my mother to stop slamming her head against the wall.
She didn't hear me. She kept striking the plaster, a horrifying rhythm that didn't cease until blood began to stream from her forehead. My heart hammered in my chest; my hands shook so violently I could barely stand. She had a knife gripped in her other hand, and I didn't dare get close enough to intervene.
"Mummy, please stop…" I sobbed.
"I didn't want them to die! I never wanted them to die!" she yelled, her voice raw. "They died because of me. I killed them! I killed them! They both loved me, but I killed them!"
"Mummy, stop! It wasn't your fault! It was an accident. You tried your best. You stayed alive, you saved me. You stayed alive for me, Mummy. You fought so hard, you tried your best…"
"But my best wasn't enough!" she screamed back, the sound slicing through the air. "I should have tried harder! I should have saved them!" She dissolved into deeper sobs, hitting her head even more forcefully.
"You tried," I insisted, desperation tightening my throat. "You saved me, and you have to live for me. You can't leave me here."
It was useless. She didn't pause; she didn't look at me. A desperate idea flashed in my mind. I sprinted into the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the block.
"Fine, Mummy," I shouted, my voice trembling. "Since you want to take your life, I guess we'll do it together."
I immediately raised the knife, threatening to plunge it into myself if she didn't stop.
It worked.
Her eyes finally focused on mine. She dropped her own knife and slowly, haltingly, stopped hitting the wall. I instantly dropped my weapon, rushed forward, and caught her as she collapsed. I sank to the floor, holding her tightly, the urgency of her emotional state overshadowing the physical injury on her head.
"My head hurts," she mumbled.
"Hold on a second." I quickly stood up and fetched the first aid box. I was already late for work—again. I knelt beside her, opened the box, and reached for the cotton wool and antiseptic spirit to clean the wound.
She snatched the materials from my hand. "Hand it over. I'll do it. Go now, so you won't be late for work," she insisted, taking the scissors next.
She is a strong woman, but I couldn't leave her like this, not while the threat of another breakdown loomed. "Don't worry, Mom. I already talked to Eva; she agreed to cover my shift."
She didn't answer right away.
"Your manager threatened to sack you, didn't she?" she asked, finally turning to look at me.
My face fell. "Yeah," I nodded.
She gave me a reassuring, but tired, look. I stood up, retrieved my bag, and walked slowly out of the room, looking back after every step.
Just as I stepped out the door, her voice, steady and quiet, followed me.
"Don't worry, I will be fine."
I walked slowly on the road trying to get a cab
"Thank God you're here! The manager has really pissed me off. I don't know what she thinks she is," Eva said the moment I walked in, busy clearing a table.
"What happened?" I asked, moving to help her.
Then she noticed my shirt. "Is that blood on your sleeve?"
"Oh, shit, I didn't even notice," I mumbled. "I'll just go and change." I hurried to the staff bathroom, changed into my work uniform, and rejoined Eva.
She was instantly curious again. "Janice, are you okay? You didn't answer me before."
I nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks so much for covering for me."
"You're avoiding the question, Janice."
I sighed. She wouldn't let it go until I told her something. "Mom tried taking her life again."
"What? Oh my God, is she okay?" Eva gasped, dropping the cloth she was holding.
"Of course she is. It was nothing serious," I lied, forcing a smile.
Eva moved closer and rested a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, everything will be fine."
I heard the familiar phrase and simply forced another smile. I'd been hearing that line ever since I was a child, but things were never fine—they always got worse. I was constantly faking a smile; it never came naturally. Sometimes I felt like it was all my fault. My mother lost everything trying to bring me into this world, and now she couldn't stop feeling guilty.
All these thoughts ran through my head as I fell into my daily routine: cleaning chairs, wiping tables, and waiting for customers to arrive.
"Janice! Janice!" Eva shouted, running toward me. "Guess what?"
"I'm not ready for your guess game," I replied flatly, still focused on cleaning a stubborn spot on the table.
"You're such a killjoy," she pouted.
"I know," I said casually. "Are you ready to tell me, or not?"
"Okay, fine. The scholarship! You won the scholarship!" she burst out, practically vibrating with excitement.
I couldn't believe my ears. "That's a lie, Eva."
"No, no, no, Janice! Harvard just announced the winners. Look, I've been checking for days! Check your phone!"
I quickly pulled out my phone. And there it was. I had won the scholarship.
For the first time in a decade, I didn't have to fake a smile. I didn't smile for Eva, or for the imaginary customers at Evergreen Restaurant. I smiled for myself.
The feeling didn't last. While Eva eagerly read through the details, her voice suddenly dropped.
"Rule number ten: All scholarship students must stay at the university dorm."
She slowly raised her head and looked at me. My smile vanished. "School dorm? No. I have to work. I have to take care of Mom. I can't accept that, Eva."
"No, don't do that! You earned this! You've worked so hard, and you can't just throw it away!"
"But there's nothing I can do," I said, defeated.
"No, Janice, there's always a way out. Nothing is impossible. This is your future we're talking about. Do those words sound familiar?"
"Yeah," I nodded, remembering all the times I'd said them to my mother.
"Now we will find a way out," Eva declared. "Together…"
Before she could finish, the bell above the door chimed, and three handsome guys walked into the restaurant
Prince Charming and his friends.....