Chapter 1 My Life Is Hell

• Amanda’s POV
• My tummy was making loud noises like a growling engine.
• I felt super hungry, and the cold was making it worse. I hugged the factory wall to try and get warm.
• I felt like my bones might crack from how hungry I was. I knew I had to do something, fast. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about how hungry I was. I went to check the dumpsters behind the factory.
• Maybe I could find some food there. I sighed, feeling the ache in my belly grow stronger with each passing moment. "I'm so hungry," I whispered to myself.
• "You and me both," a raspy voice replied from behind me.
• I turned to see an old man hunched over a pile of trash, his hands digging through the debris in search of something edible. He looked up at me with tired eyes, and for a moment, our gazes locked in shared desperation.
• "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
• The old man shrugged, a weary smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Just looking for something to eat, kid," he replied, his voice hoarse with hunger.
• I felt a pang of guilt wash over me. Here I was, complaining about my own hunger, while this old man struggled just to survive.
• Without a word, I turned and walked away, leaving him to his search. But as I made my way back to the factory, his words echoed in my mind, reminding me of just how dire my situation had become.
• I felt sorry for him and decided to leave him to it even though I was eyeing a discarded takeaway with remains of chips and some leftover bones of chicken wings that he was holding.
• Back at the factory, I mustered up the courage to approach the manager. He was a stern-looking man, with a no-nonsense attitude that intimidated a lot of the factory workers.
• "Excuse me, sir," I said, my voice shaky with nerves. "I was wondering if there's any food available in the cafeteria. I'm... I'm really hungry."
• The manager glanced at me with a mixture of pity and annoyance. "We don't just give out food for free, you know," he said, his tone clipped.
• "I-I understand," I stammered. "But I don't have any money..."
• He arched an eyebrow. "So what do you propose?"
• I hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. But hunger pushed me forward, forcing the words out of my mouth.
• "I'll do anything," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just need something to eat."
• A flicker of something crossed the manager's face, something dark and predatory. "Anything?" he repeated, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my skin crawl.
• I swallowed hard, my stomach churning with unease. "Y-yes," I replied, my voice barely audible. "Anything."
• A cruel smile twisted the manager's lips. "Well then, how about we make a deal?" he said, his voice dripping with malice.
• "I'll give you some food from the cafeteria. In exchange, you do something for me."
• I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew where this was going, and I didn't like it one bit. But hunger clouded my judgment, pushing me to agree to terms I would later regret.
• "O-okay," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "What do you want me to do?"
• The manager's smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth that sent a shiver down my spine. "Let's just say... I have needs that need to be met," he said, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my skin crawl.
• I felt bile rise in my throat, disgust warring with hunger for dominance. But in the end, hunger won out, drowning out the voice of reason in my head.
• "Fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do it."
• As tears streamed down my cheeks, I followed the manager into the less busy depths of the factory. I knew that I had made a deal with the devil himself, but hunger, it seems, can drive even the strongest of us to do unspeakable things.
• But as we reached the secluded corner of the factory, I found myself unable to go through with it. Tears blurred my vision as I pleaded with the manager.
• "I can't do this," I sobbed. "Please, I just want to eat. I don't want to die or get sick."
• The manager's expression hardened, his eyes cold and calculating. "Looks like you're not really hungry then," he said, his voice dripping with contempt.
• "Or maybe you're just not ready to do what it takes to survive."
• I felt a wave of despair wash over me as I realized just how desperate my situation had become. But even in the face of such cruelty, I refused to give up hope, there should be something I can do but it’s already late at night.
• And so, with tears still streaming down my cheeks, I turned and walked away from the manager and his empty promises.
• I may have been hungry and homeless, but I refused to sacrifice my dignity for a mere scrap of food.
• As I walked away from the manager, I felt really sorry about what I'd agreed to. Tears kept rolling down my cheeks, and I couldn't stop them.
• I was mad at myself for getting into such a bad situation. Why did I let hunger make me do something I didn't want to do?
• But then my head started hurting really bad, like it was going to explode. I felt sick and dizzy, like I was going to pass out. I held my head, hoping the pain would go away, but it just got worse.
• That's when I knew I couldn't go on like this. I needed food, or I was going to get really sick. So, even though I hated the idea, I went back to the manager. I knew I had no other choice.
• As I got closer, I felt really scared and angry. I didn't want to do what he asked, but hunger was making me desperate. I took a deep breath and told him I'd do it.
• The manager grinned, but it wasn't a nice grin. It was creepy and mean. "I thought you'd change your mind," he said, sounding all smug.