“It is my fate to live for others.” — Esmé Purie Lapointe

His cold eyes swept through the room. One girl, with blonde curls, stared back at him, her mouth half-opened, her brown doe eyes wide. Her lips were parted, and her cheeks were dusted pink. The young woman looked as if she had been caught doing something illicit, or perhaps she had only been shocked.

“You,” he said, pointing at Esme, his oldest. “Come here.”

She rose slowly from her seat, taking one last look around the group before coming over to where he stood. She took hesitant steps closer to the desk until she couldn't take another step and waited for him to speak again, her shoulders hunched slightly forward, as though bracing herself against an attack. She had to know what it was going to sound like, but she couldn—

WHACK.

His hand flew out, connecting hard with her cheek. She cried out, stumbled backward, and fell to her knees. She curled in on herself, hands covering her face, as tears began to flow down her cheeks.

He moved away from her then, turning so she wouldn't see his face while he spoke.

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” he asked, his voice low and cold. “Doing this in public? In front of your classmates?” The words echoed off the walls of the empty classroom.

I know I'm a disappointment. I always have been. No matter how hard I try, it's never enough. But I can't help feeling like it's my responsibility to make everyone else happy.

Then papers started raining. Papers falling everywhere, like water from a broken tap. Papers clattering across desks, falling onto the floor. The sound caused Esme to whimper quietly in pain, and she raised her head to stare at him helplessly, her fingers still pressed into her reddened cheek.

99%

99%

Ninety-nine percent.

“After all that studying, you missed one question? You’re such a disappointment. And now your classmates are laughing at you. They think it’s funny.” His words came out in harsh, short bursts of air, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Get out.” He gestured toward the door with his free hand. “Get out now. I don’t want to have to deal with you anymore.”

“Father, I-“

“NOW!” he snarled, his face flushed red. He grabbed hold of her upper arm, forcing her to stand. Esme tried to wriggle away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

That was the day she fully understood her fate to live for someone else.

***

In middle school, Esme hit puberty. Her breasts swelled, and her hips filled out. She became more beautiful. More popular. More attractive. She began dressing in different clothing styles, different colors and patterns, so many of them she lost count. She spent hours every single day in the library, reading books and learning about makeup and fashion. She wore her hair long, and it curled naturally whenever she brushed it, and made her skin glow.

Drip.

Drip.

“Wh- what’s wrong with you?” Bella and her friends gaped at Esme, a red mark dragged diagonally across her elegant features. Crimson red blood dripped down her chin. She wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.

Esme’s lip quivered. “Are you happy?” She smiled. The corners of her pretty face twitched ever so slightly.

“No!” Bella screamed, “I am not happy! How.. How could you do that to yourself?!”

“You asked me to.”

“I- I was joking!”

“But I wasn’t.”

The two girls glared at each other. “Well, you should never have said anything! This isn’t funny!”

The bell rang.

As Bella rushed off to class, leaving Esme alone in the hallway, Esme lowered herself to the ground. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her palms.

“Please be happy.. please,” Esme whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying desperately that the tears would stop falling. “If you’re happy…then I’ll get to live. Just a bit longer.”

I can't stop thinking about what happened before that. It's like I'm stuck in this loop, replaying it over and over again in my head.

99 things.

This makes the hundredth.

Eat that cigarette butt.

Undress yourself.

Lick my shoes clean.

Drink that toilet water.

Stop crying, you're ugly.

You're weak.

So are we.

***

In college, Esme's father's health was in poor condition. As a result, Esme, being the oldest and the one to inherit the property and wealth, went on ninety-nine blind dates, all of which ended with ninety-nine ignored feelings, except for one.

"Living for others is my destiny," Esme said to the man sitting across from her.

"But that's not true," the man replied. "You have the power to make your own choices and live for yourself."

Esme's heart raced as he spoke. She had never heard anyone challenge her beliefs like this before. Could it be true? Was it possible for her to prioritize her own happiness instead of constantly trying to please others? Could she really—

CRASH!

The sound of shattering glass jarred Esme from her thoughts. She looked up to see the bartender frantically mopping up the spill. The sound of the broken bottle echoed loudly in the empty bar, and Esme felt her heart racing in her chest. The memory of her reddening cheeks and maddening creeps came flooding back, and she felt herself withdrawing from the conversation with the man.

Right, her destiny cannot be changed. It is predetermined for her. It is her fate.

Just like that, one hundred dates and one hundred failures. Esme sighed, feeling defeated. With a heavy heart, Esme accepted that her destiny was to forever live for others in a cruel, unforgiving world.