Chapter Two

On his way back home, Callisto met an ugly girl whom he thought was insane because she was trying to get herself killed in the road. Callisto fortunately stamped on the brakes just in time, forcing the car to stop before it could hit the girl. Then, he stepped out and approached her.

"Are you crazy?" Callisto asked in a mad tone.

The girl didn't say anything. She didn't move either. She looked so scared, as if she had seen a ghost. Her head trembled like she had tics. Some of her hair stuck to her lips.

Callisto heard the honking cars and impatient shouts of people behind them. It caused heavy traffic, but the girl wouldn't get out of the way no matter what he said, so he was forced to carry her. He brought her inside the car and continued driving.

After a few moments, the girl cried out like a hungry infant looking for her mother's breast. Frustrated, Callisto stopped the car and shoved her out.

"Piece of shit! Can you shut up?" Callisto turned to leave, but he stopped when the girl said something.

"You shit! Why didn't you just let me die?" She exclaimed.

Callisto halted, thinking about how ungrateful this girl was—that after saving her from the brink of death, she still had the audacity to complain.

"I will teach her a lesson," Callisto said to himself. He went back and grabbed her arms.

The girl stood up, tears slowly forming in her eyes. Callisto wanted her to know why he didn't let her die on that road, but before he could say anything, she collapsed.

"What the—" Callisto was about to say something unpleasant, but then he realized that there was no reason to say such a thing, as it wouldn't help the situation anyway, so he just brought the girl with him.

After a few moments, the strange girl woke up. She immediately chided Callisto, saying that he wanted to do something wrong with her, that he was a pervert, but that was absolutely not in his vocabulary.

"Why did you bring me here?" The girl finally asked a sensible question.

Callisto didn't say anything. He wondered what the reason was for why he brought a strange girl into his house. Was he already out of his mind? He could be accused of sexual assault even though he didn't do anything like that, especially to a girl like her.

Her face was filled with sweat, dust, pollution, and tears. Her hair wasn't properly tied and knotted, as if someone had fought with her and they rolled around the streets. Both her face and eyes were round as a guava.

Callisto couldn't find anything beautiful in her because even her personality wasn't good.

The girl noticed him looking at her, so she scratched her head and turned to leave as if nothing had happened. She acted like she didn't know how she got there, like a lost girl.

"Hey, wait!" Callisto stopped her. "Where are you going?"

"Why do you have to know?" The girl turned back but continued stepping backward.

"Have you eaten? And please don't get yourself hit by those cars!" Callisto reminded him as if he cared.

"And who are you to ask me that? Are you my boyfriend?" The girl asked as if it were the first time she heard someone who cared about her.

"No, I'm just a concerned citizen. And don't you see that you can do many things with your life? Why do you want to end it here?" Callisto asked.

"That's not your business anymore, so don't interfere." She turned around and continued walking.

"If that's what you want. By the way, I'm Callisto."

The girl didn't mind him. She just continued walking like someone who didn't care about anything until she disappeared from Callisto's eyes.

"Who is she?" Ruth asked.

"No one. Just a new friend of mine," Callisto replied.

"Will you invite her to play with us, please?"

"She's busy, so we shall not bother her. Just play with me, baby girl." Callisto carried his sister, and they went inside the house to forget about everything that happened.

On the other hand, the strange girl couldn't forget what happened. She wondered if that boy would show his face to her if she didn't want to die. Perhaps not, she thought, because she was ugly. She had zero self-esteem because even her own mother despised her.

"Oh, my dear Stalin, where have you been?" Linley asked. "Your mother is looking for you. You will be scolded by her again, for sure."

"I just went around, and do you know what happened?" Stalin asked, ready to share her stories with her friend.

"No? Of course not; how would I know anything if I wasn't with you?" Linley replied.

"Okay, then I'll tell you. I've met a handsome and cute guy. He has those pretty, sparkling brown eyes and—" Stalin hadn't finished her words when Linley interrupted.

"Please wake up, my friend. I know you're just dreaming. You can't even comb your hair. Look at you; you look so—I don't even know how to say it to make it sound harsh, as I don't want you to be offended," Linley said.

"And do you know what happened next?" Stalin continued. "That handsome guy kissed me."

Linley chuckled. "You must be hungry, my friend. Go home now and eat something before you die from hunger."

Stalin’s face showed the weight of her disappointment. Linley didn't believe her at all, although she was telling the truth. Her brows knit tightly together, she looked at her feet, as if looking for answers she couldn’t find.

Linley already left. Stalin had no choice but to go back home. Then she met her mother, who treated her like a dog and hit her with a belt every time she went outside.

Stalin fell to her knees, begging. "Mother, mother, please forgive me! I will never do that again!"

"You don't even have a job to buy your own food, but you have the time to go outside and play? Who gave you such permission to do that, huh?" The woman scowled. She continued hitting Stalin, treating her like she wasn't her own daughter.

Stalin couldn't prevent the tears from falling down her eyes as she realized that nobody really cared for her. Her beloved father, the one who always defended her from the people who tried to hurt her, was hit by a car and died on the spot, the reason why she just wanted to follow him. She couldn't take it anymore. Her life was so miserable, she wondered where she would go. Should she go right when nothing's left or go left when nothing goes right?

But despite how much pain she got from her mother, she never thought of taking revenge. She still hoped that maybe someday, he'd change and treat her with a little care and consideration despite her insanity.

"Now go back to your room!" The woman commanded.

"But—" Stalin wanted to protest, but she didn't want her mother to hit her again, so she just followed her order like a good dog. She went inside her room, closed her eyes, but tears kept streaming down her face.

The pain was so deep that it pierced through her soul. That kind of pain she couldn't explain, but it whispered something in her ears to do things a normal human would do—like taking her own life. She didn't know what she had done wrong to deserve such a kind of punishment.