I kill my tyrant husband

y, frighteningly regular and monotonous, like repetitive pages in a boring book. She adhered t

search for information seemed to progress at a snail's pace. This

aff, Clara felt an overwhelming weariness wash over her. It wasn't just physical exhaustion from a day of maintaining proper compos

er day clothes, Clara stepped into the bathroom and immersed herself in the hot jacuzzi tub. The warmth spread through her body, temporarily pushing away the c

en more pronounced. Anna had been all too familiar with loneliness in her cramped rental room, but the loneliness amidst this dazzling lux

s felt heavy. The exhaustion from both lives – the old life full o

everythi

thin blanket not enough to keep her warm. The familiar musty smell filled her nostrils. Her mother's dry cough came f

, but a full, genuine recreation of her old life, her pai

ugh to cover expenses. The pitying (or sometimes contemptuous) gazes of wealthy customers as they bought things she couldn't even drea

d to do small chores, just to not feel useless. Anna's heart ached for her mother; she wan

ldn't talk, and locked himself in his room. Anna tried to reach him, tried to comfort him, but every effort was like punching cotton. Her brother's distance was

a traffic accident. Her mother's world and hers collapsed. The family's pillar was gone. The burden fell onto her mother's shoulders,

ushing loneliness. She saw herself searching for work after graduation, sending hundreds of applications only to receive hars

w herself standing outside her brother's door, listening to the silence from within, her heart heavy. Saw herse

s, helpless before her brother's depression, helpless before poverty, helpless before a society that of

arkness and despair. The sleeping pills are on the table. They weren't her mother's medicine anymore; they were her esca

down her throat. The weariness enve

dream v

nt room of the Goldsmiths' mansion. Gentle morning light filtered through the

that had shaped who she was. The poverty, the loss, the helplessness, the loneliness. All those things

rn. It wasn't just a reward; it was salvation. Salvation for her mother, for her brother,

ath for her to escape both this gilded cage and the tragedy of the past. The dr

bably preparing to appear to announce the new schedule. But in Clara's mind, th

succeed. At