Just to Live

For the past three weeks, Tabitha remained in her dungeon-like room, sitting there, bathing in guilt. She wondered gravely how her mother and little sister were surviving with that little amount of money for food and water. She began to cry again, wishing she could see her family once more.

Matthew sat in his office, letting out a stressful sigh. He couldn’t fathom why Tabitha hadn’t confessed to spying yet. ‘Maybe Brian’s wrong,’ he thought to himself, rubbing the side of his face.

“No, he can’t be,” he muttered, standing up. He checked the clock on the wall, signifying it was around the time to escort Tabitha to a bathroom so she could take a shower and then have her meal for the day. He truly hated treating her in such a slave-like way, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Fuck all this. I’m forcing the truth out of her,” he suddenly decided, stomping down the stairs. However, before he reached the basement door, the doorbell rang. He walked solemnly to the door and opened it. He met a dirty beggar woman holding a young girl’s hand.

“Yes?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I-is my Tabitha here?” the woman asked quietly.

Matthew gulped. “Excuse me?” Inside, his armor was breaking, and he had an abrupt feeling that he had done something horrible all along.

“M-my daughter,” the woman replied. “She hasn’t shown up for three weeks and she told me she works here. Please tell me she isn’t dead.”

All of Matthew’s limbs stood stiff and he felt cold, unbearably freezing. ‘I almost starved an innocent girl,’ was the thought echoing in his head.

“Yes she is here. Please come in, I’ll have some of my maids look after the two of you,” he said softly, ushering the woman and girl into the house, towards the direction of the kitchen.

Eleanor and Vanessa were the only two in the kitchen at the time. Before Matthew opened his mouth, the two women decided to aid the newcomers. Vanessa could tell the young girl gripping her mother’s hand tightly held a slight resemblance to Tabitha. Guilt panged at Vanessa’s heart. She shouldn’t have told Tabitha about the security system. If she never opened her mouth, the poor girl would have never seen the basement.

Leaving Tabitha’s mother—and he insinuated her younger sister—in the kitchen under safe care; he jogged down to the basement where Tabitha was. His anger immediately ceased. He didn’t even have to ask to know that Tabitha escaped the house at night to visit her family, possibly her only family left. He shook his head in dismay. She never told anyone she had a mother and sister.

When he opened the heavy metal door to the four-walled space Tabitha occupied, he watched her sit there, hugging her knees, and face gaunt. He wanted to punch himself in the face, but restrained from the action.

“Come on,” he said softly.

Tabitha followed weakly, in strength and spirit. She was now aghast of Matthew and Brian. Although both men hadn’t harmed her in any such way, she anticipated the actions to happen eventually.

The two ended up in Matthew’s office. He allowed Tabitha to walk in first and shut the door behind him soundlessly.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you have a family to look after?” Matthew interrogated, waiting for the fragile girl to look into his eyes. When she did, he voluntarily forced her to keep eye contact with him with just a single glare. Her eyes did widen in fear though.

“W-what? That’s s-some lie someone m-made up,” she attempted to say earnestly, stuttering all over the place.

“Tabitha, your mom and sister are down in the kitchen eating. Don’t lie. I despise liars. Tell me the truth.”

She held her tears, realizing that she lost the battle. “I need to provide an income for my mother and younger sister,” she answered with sheer territorial indignation.

Sympathy shined in his eyes. For a person so young, she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t had a nervous breakdown yet.

“How old are they?” he inquired, in a much amiable tone.

“My mom is 45. Erika is nine.”

“Is that where you’ve been going? To them?” he prompted, despite having known the answer.

“Yes,” she responded humorlessly.

“Do they have a home?”

“No. They still live on the street. But at least now they have clothes to keep them warm and food and water.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? We would’ve taken them in.”

Tabitha laughed melancholy. “How was I supposed to know? Do you how guilty I’ve felt? I get to have a room in a beautiful house. I make money and I have a place to shower, eat, and sleep. They have to fight for these luxuries.”

Matthew was beginning to feel alarmed. He hadn’t seen Tabitha in such a morose state. “You shouldn’t feel bad. You gave all your money to them.”

“So? I promised myself I would never leave them, and what did I do? I left them on the street while I’ve been living comfortably. Am I a good person? Hell no,” she went on, fresh tears falling from her eyes.

“Tabitha, stop crying,” Matthew demanded, rolling his hand to a fist.

“They can’t see me,” she said urgently.

“They have to. Come on. It’s an order.”

He found it amazing that she listened to him and went with him down to the kitchen. That wasn’t on his mind as much as how worried he was for the girl. In barely 15 minutes, he witnessed Tabitha going through dangerous mood swings. She began as an empty shell, to one of depression, to anger, to intense sorrow, and back to depression. He was terrified that he was the cause of how much she had changed in three weeks. He knew he could never forgive himself if he was the one who corrupted her so horribly.

Maria and Erika were now clean and adorned with new clothes (the women’s work uniform). Erika was practically tripping all over the kitchen, trying to hitch up her pants.

Motherly instinct told Maria that her daughter was in her presence. She craned her neck, waiting anxiously to see her eldest daughter. At the sight of Tabitha, Maria gasped, tears shining in her eyes. She hopped out of her seat and hugged her daughter. “Tabitha! I thought you were dead!”

“I’m so sorry mom. I am,” Tabitha whispered, wrapping her meek arms around her mother’s shoulders.

“Sis!” Erika cried, hugging her leg. “Don’t disappear anymore.”

Tabitha smiled, overly joyous to see her little sister’s innocent face. “I won’t. I have to talk to Matthew please.”

Erika was the first to let go, understanding that her elder sister had an “adult matter” to attend. Maria was the reluctant one. She knew there was something about Matthew that seemed…not right. She couldn’t point out what it was, but he intimidated her. Still, she let go of her daughter.

“I quit,” Tabitha declared, walking up to her old boss.

“W-what?” Matthew sputtered.

“I have to look out for my family and staying here won’t do that. I quit.”

“Tabitha, no,” Matthew pleaded.

“I quit. Stop it.”

“No,” he said more forcibly. “Your family can stay here.”

“So they can work like I do? No. They’ve been through too much to have to do that.”

“But-”

“Matt, let her go. It’s her choice,” Brian said passively, rolling his eyes.

Matthew looked at his best friend, perplexed by his words and apathy. “Dude!” he uttered.

Brian shrugged his shoulders. “She wants to go, you can’t keep her prisoner.”

Tabitha smirked. For once, Brian was on her side about something. Of course, it resulted in her absence at the mansion, but by his show of impeccable emotion, he did not care. Well, she did not either. “Come on guys,” she said, walking out the door with her mother and sister.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” Matthew growled, giving Brian a murderous glare.

“What are you making her stay for? Fuck, she was telling people our private business!” Brian countered.

“She was giving food and clothes to her fucking family you douche bag!” Matthew boomed, shaking his fists in fury.

“Oh…Shit,” Brian muttered.

‘Yeah “Oh shit.”’ Matthew thought irritably to himself, walking to his best friend. With as much animosity as humanly possible for himself, Matthew raised and swung his fist to the left side of Brian’s jaw, watching as the man fell down to the floor, yelling in agony at his broken jaw.