Chapter 4

Born in Hawaii, Dahlia grew up with just the love of a mother. A mother who struggled to make her who she was today through sheer determination. Whenever she had money, she said that she would take care of her mother. She didn't know who her father was and she didn't care to know anything about the man. The last time they had ever mentioned his name in the house was the day she had asked her mother who the man was and why he hadn't been around to care for them. At the time, she was only seven years old but she had understood her mother's broken cry when she had explained to Dahlia that her father had left when Dahlia was only two years old.

She had grown up hating her father for that single offense. Even if he hadn't wanted her mother anymore, why couldn't he have wanted her? She was his daughter for crying out loud. And she had suffered as a little child just because the man who called himself her father had woken up one day, decided that she and her mother weren't good enough to be his family anymore, and threw them out of the house. Even though Dahlia had been too young to remember that part or the part where she and her mother had spent the night wherever it met them, she remembered most of her agonizing childhood.

She remembered a particular time when she couldn't be more than six years old. She had returned home from school that hot afternoon, happy to be home like any other child her age would be. Dahlia had run into the house, eager to be with her mum. She had met her mum crying softly as if she was afraid of letting anyone hear her sobs. As soon as she saw Dahlia, her mother had wiped her tear-filled eyes and smiled at her like all was well. Young as Dahlia was, she had known immediately that something was wrong with her mother somewhere, and the fact that the woman wasn't happy. Dahlia knew it to be so because she always cried over things that hurt her, especially at school. Just the other day, she had cried when a guy from school had taken her lunch from her. Dahlia had thrown her school bag down and hugged her mother tightly as a way of comfort, just as her teacher had done with her when she had cried over her lunch.

Another time, she had rushed home from school feeling famished. She had culminated through the house but there was nothing edible. No cereal, no bread, or even potatoes that she loved boiling to eat as an afternoon meal. She had waited for her mother to arrive from where she went, and by the time the woman was back, Dahlia had felt like she could faint any moment if she didn't put anything into her stomach. Her mother had rushed out back when she saw her daughter writhing in pain due to hunger. Her mum had resurfaced later with some bread in hand which she handed over to Dahlia. Dahlia had eaten the bread with water alone.

Sometimes she left for school without breakfast with a promise from her mother that there would be a delicious meal on the table served for her when she was back. Most of the time, her mother's definition of a delicious meal was cooking for Dahlia her favorite food of boiled potatoes, boiled eggs, and a peppered sauce. Dahlia ate each food her mother placed before her with love, knowing just how much trouble the woman must have gone through to provide the meals for her daily. Sometimes, her mother resorted to begging their neighbors for ingredients they weren't interested in using anymore. Other times, she would have to plead for bread from them. Dahlia remembered a time she had food poisoning from eating bad bread. For two days, she had crossed the portal of heaven multiple times and returned. And the bad part was that they had no money for the hospital. So, her mother had only ensured that she stayed hydrated at all times. And the woman cleaned her up every time she soiled her dress.

After a while, the neighbors started avoiding either of the mother and daughter anytime they saw them, thinking that they were coming to ask for leftovers. Then her mother had moved on from pleading for leftovers from the neighbors to buying bread on credit from the bakery down their street. The bread loan ran for a week each, and once they settled their previous debts, they got another bread on loan. The grocery store owner had been a lot more lenient than the bakery had been. She would let them have groceries on credit and pay back at the end of the month when her mother had gotten her salary.

She recalled times without numbers when she would get back from school only to see that their electricity and water supplies had been cut off because they had exceeded the pay dates. Those were the times she dreaded the most of all their hard times. While her mother rushed to pay for water supply since they couldn't do without water, they could however stay for days without electricity. Sometimes the days stretched into weeks, and weeks into months. She remembered a time they had gone without electricity for two whole months. Every day, her mother would heat water for her on the stove with a kettle and Dahlia would stand in a bathtub, pouring the heated water on herself with a cup.

At those times, her mother worked as a teacher in a school for a meager salary that wasn't enough to care for even herself alone, not to talk about having a daughter to cater for. Worse, the salary might have been delayed for a month before her mother was paid. And by that time, they would be up to their neck in debts. So, as soon as the money was coming in, it was rapidly going out again. It got to a point where Her mother began to wash people's clothing or help clean their home for a fee just to meet up with the care of Dahlia. Her friends at school had mocked her when they found out about her mother's new occupation. Most of them had even desisted from hanging out with or around her. And even though it hurt her feelings back then, she hadn't minded their betrayals.

Instead, she had poured all her energy into her study, determined to excel and make it In life. Determined to do well and leave the little town she grew up in for a chance to make something out of herself rather than just a poor girl. Everyone, including her mother, had been shocked the first time she came third in her class. Her mother had been extremely happy when she had handed her result to her. Her ex-friends at school and some of their neighbors had begun to gossip about how she had risen to the top in such a short while. Some of her classmates had even claimed that they saw her cheating during the exams. She hadn't listened to all their gossiping about her but added more efforts to improve even better than before. At the end of her eighth grade, she had been announced as the second-best in her class. By the time she had finished her grading school, she had stayed at the top of her class.

As soon as Dahlia was old enough to start working, she helped people get groceries in exchange for money. At first, no one had paid her any attention because of her young age. She would cry and plead for hours, yet, they would turn her away. She hadn't let that stop her from going back to ask if they needed her services. It had taken a while, but when they saw how determined she was about the whole thing, they had reluctantly let her help. Sometimes, she would go around the town looking for jobs that could fetch her some cash for the day., she had been lucky enough to get jobs cleaning and running quick errands for people during her tour. And sometimes, she would find where events and parties were taking place during the weekend to work. She could work as a server or help in cleaning up after the party for a fee. Sometimes, when they were desperate for cash, Dahlia would push herself and work as both.

She couldn't count or even remember the number of times she had gotten insulted or cheated by people during the job. She remembered a time like that she had been a server and a woman had beckoned her over, telling her she needed a drink. Dahlia had rushed over to get the woman the drink, only for the woman to pour it all over Dahlia. When asked by the people around why she had treated Dahlia like that, her excuse had been that she was in a bad mood and needed someone to vent her anger on. Sad as she felt, she hadn't let that deter her from completing the job for that day. All she had chanted in her mind was that they needed the money. Another time, a woman had refused to pay her the full wages for her service after Dahlia had helped her clean up after an event. Her excuse was that Dahlia was too young to have such an amount of money with her. Dahlia had told the woman point-blank how she felt about what the woman had done to her. The fact that the woman should have thought hard about why such a young girl as her was working but hadn't made Dahlia know that she was a callous woman who exploited those beneath her. And that was the last time she had ever worked for her.

There were other times men who were old to be her father or even grandfather had made such awful advances at her during her serving job. The first time it had happened, she had balked at the man who had done it, and ran home without getting her pay for that day. The second time, she had warned the man of her and returned to her duty. The third time, she had reported theman to her employer who had taught her the method of ignoring such men. The trick the woman taught her had worked on the men and she had continued with the method until she had met another woman who had taught her how to flirt with men in a subtle man to get some extra cash from them. Dahlia had scoffed at the woman with the words that it was not possible for those men to drop their hard-earned money just because a young girl of sixteen had flirted with them. But she had soon realized the errors of her thinking when a man had given her a tip just because she had innocently complimented his tie.

When Dahlia had gotten admission to the college of nursing with a scholarship, she and her mother had been very happy. But their happiness had soon turned to worries when they realized that they still needed money for her accommodation and feeding. She would also need to get the required textbooks herself since her scholarship hadn't covered any of those. Dahlia had worked three different shifts just to meet up with at least the basic things she needed. Her mother had supported her with the little she had also. And that was how she became a college student. People had always wondered why she chose nursing as a career while at the college despite her academic performance. She would laugh and shrug off the question, crushing their curiosity.

But she had made that decision one day when she had returned from school and met her mother lying on the floor, barely conscious. Dahlia had rushed to get a nurse around who told Dahlia frankly that she wouldn't treat her mother without funds. Despite her pleas and promises that she would look for the money, the nurse had left without even a backward glance. The other two she had reached out to had claimed to be too busy with work and so, they couldn't attend to her mother. She had resorted to treating her mother by herself by boiling herbs for her to take. Then she would go out and work, buy food for her mother on the way back, so the woman can have something to eat. Whenever she had enough money with her, Dahlia would get medicine for her mother from the pharmacy after describing her mother's symptoms to them. The sickness had kept her mother down the whole of a month. Sometimes, her mother's loud cough would wake her from her sleep and Dahlia wouldn't be able to get back to bed out of fear that her mother might die before daybreak if she closed her eyes. The sickness had kept her mother down the whole of a month, and then she began to get better. It was at those points in her life that she had decided never to feel so helpless again when it comes to her mother's health. That was when she had decided in her heart to become a nurse.

That was how poor they were. She had lost count of the number of times her mother had gone for days without food just so Dehlia could have something to eat later. No, they weren't just poor. They were broke. Broke to the extent that they needed people to patch them up multiple times if they wanted to have a chance to survive. And it was all because the man who had fathered her had left them alone on their own. Whether they had survived or not wasn't even his concern. And Dahlia was determined to make it, then throw the success into the face of her father. The man could ride on the back of Lucifer and go to hell for all that she cares about him. SilverCrest was only the beginning of the many successes she would account for.

Dahlia laid on her bed, a book she had picked up after waking up in her hand she was deeply engrossed in. The event from the hospital replayed in her mind and her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't had anything to eat since she came back from the hospital the previous night. Though she had loathed leaving the unconscious man, her body had resisted any more torture she had wanted to give it. She had left the hospital for her duplex in one of the suburbs of L.A and she had promptly fallen asleep the moment her body hit the bed, only to wake up the next morning. Dahlia got up and walked to her kitchen to prepare something for breakfast since her shift wasn't until the afternoon.