Your parents sell you off to a buyer

In the eyes of your parents, you were never a person you were a mounting debt. Every meal you ate, every scrap of clothing on your back, and every inch of space you occupied was recorded in a ledger of resentment. For years, you lived in the shadow of their hatred, surviving the heavy handed discipline of a father who saw you as a mistake and the cold neglect of a mother who saw you as a curse.

The morning of the sale was no different. It began with a sharp blow to the head and a snarl to "get moving." You were shoved toward the mirror, forced to hide the bruises they had given you so you wouldn't "depreciate the value" of the deal. They didn't pack your bags; they didn't offer a goodbye. They simply threw you into the car like a piece of unwanted luggage, eager to finally trade their greatest burden for a clean slate.