"Get out! And don't come back till you learn what living is! " Jiya's dad shouted as he pushed Jiya out of the front door with the suitcase he had packed in advance.

"Honey! Please don't be like that !" Jiya's mother pleaded. "How will she survive like that?"

"She has to learn to live on her own, be it now or in the future! Better now than tomorrow."

"Please don't be like that! She is our only daughter."

"I know! You don't interfere in this. "

"Please honey, she is still too young to be on her own."

"She is old enough to be on her own. When I was her age I had already started earning."

"But that was diff-"

"It's ok mumma! " Jiya cut her in between, a frown on her face. "If 'I' am the trouble, it's better that I leave."

She adjusted her luggage and started walking towards the gate of their estate. 'Will he call me back' Jiya hoped somewhere deep within her.

As Jiya slowly walked to the main gate. Her mother wanted to follow her to the gate but her father held her back.

She once looked back at them: the mother, on the verge of tears, and the father, who was no longer in the mood to even look at her face, stopping her from running towards Jiya. 'I can't help it', she thought. 'I guess I'm homeless now.' she sighed as she walked out.

Jiya's mind went as silent as the night in the rich neighbourhood. The frown was clear on her glum, dull face.

'What now? ' a thought appeared in her mind.

'Where should I sleep tonight? ' Tired from the whole discharge procedures and then the commotion at home, sleeping was the first thing Jiya could think of.

'Maybe at the bus stop?'

Well, generally, people think about staying at a friend's place. However, Jiya had no friends to turn to in times of need, and the few who stuck to her at school were there for her money. No way they'll help now.

She started walking towards the bus stop, dragging her suitcase filled with God knows what!

Her white, knee-length satin gown fluttered as a soft breeze passed by, slightly shimmering in the light of the designer streetlights, which were present at small intervals.

Her hair was long and black, tied into a messy bun, which was coming undone from the breeze as she walked by.

She couldn't be called an absolute beauty, however, the melancholy of the night perfectly resonated with her looks.

If that red suitcase were to be removed from the frame, it would look as if an angel had fallen on Earth, walking by, heartbroken.

The sidewalk on which Jiya was walking was lined with shrubs making a hedge, beyond which were estates of various other Nouveau riche.

She walked in silence till she reached the bus stop, and only the noise of dragging the suitcase and occasionally the voice of the wind could be heard.

The bus stop was as deserted as the road she followed here; this somewhere relieved her that she wouldn't have to be embarrassed explaining to other people her strange purpose for visiting the bus stop*.

She sat down on the bench. 'Now how should I sleep?' She thought as she stared at the bench.

The bench was made up of steel bars; the thought of sleeping on it was surely uncomfortable for a sheltered girl like Jiya.

She was staring at the bench with a frown as a thought crossed her mind.

'If only I had something to cover it with, then it wouldn't be as uncomfortable'

However, the reality of not having something of the sort saddened her.

She lay down on the cold steel, using her arms as a pillow, facing the blank, dusty inside of the shade, which added to her uneasiness.

Facing the cold metallic backrest was just as uncomfortable. She finally decided to turn towards the road.

The road was deserted, and the hedge on the other side was visible. Beyond the hedge was a beautiful garden of some estate.

'It seems I never noticed that garden.'

She thought as she realised she had passed this road multiple times but never had the leisure to notice the surroundings.

The view calmed her, as she tried drifting off to sleep. But these conditions were too harsh for a princess.

She woke up multiple times and went to sleep only to walk up again. This cycle continued, and the uncomfortable night felt like an eternity.

'Maybe it's almost dawn'

The thought crossed her mind as she woke up for the Nth time.

She checked her wristwatch only to realise that not even thirty minutes had passed since she lay down.

She jerked up irritated. Her head in her hands, facing down in frustration. Her hair unravelled to the point that it looked like they were never been tied. The hair tie was knotted somewhere in her hair, however, Jiya took no notice.

"...Ugh"

She growled in frustration.

'What a mess, I can't even sleep now!'

Reality suddenly hit her; tears started to flow from her eyes, covered by her hands.

She cried for a while in silence, then held her breath and tried to stop herself.

After calming down a bit, she stood up determined and declared:

"I have finally come out of that place where I was unloved, now I should live my new life"

Suddenly her eyes fell on her suitcase.

'Aha, way to go, girl!' She praised herself with a smug look as an idea crossed her mind.

She reached out to her suitcase and pulled it towards herself.

'I can find something in here that will allow me to sleep comfortably.' She thought while grinning ear to ear.

She stood up then picked up the suitcase and placed it on the bench, bent down and pushed the chain open.

The suitcase was packed diligently. Every cloth was neatly ironed and folded.

"He packed it way too good for someone whom he didn't want in his home", was what she murmured. However, her thoughts didn’t match her muttering, 'Maybe they still love me? Will they come to get me?'

As soon as Jiya realised her thoughts she got rid of those thoughts forcefully.

She started to search through her clothes for something like a sheet. However, her hands stumbled upon some kind of card.

She grabbed it and pulled it out, and there was 'it'. The thing she hated the most but needed the most. Money.

To be more precise it was her bank account holder card*.

She flipped the card with a frown. The sight of the seven-digit amount widened her eyes. Slowly her eyes dropped as tears started to flow again.

"Who am I fooling? They were never the cause of my distress. They were never wrong." she mumbled

'It was always me.' The thought broke her. This was the thought that always broke her.

God knows why she had such thoughts when she had such a good life. But I guess it was fair; the thing she wanted was never money, to begin with. At this point, money was equivalent to rejection for this young girl.

As a child, whenever she wanted her parents' time, they handed her money and left her. It's obvious now why Jiya hates money, but still needed it anyway.

She sat on the bench heavily as her knees went weak, with her head dropped in disappointment.

Her hand reached out to her eyes instinctively, but the presence of the card annoyed her. She glanced at it giving it a disgusted gaze, before throwing it to the ground in anger, as her cries became louder.

"You say I waste your money then give me more of it... money is the only thing you know to give", she mumbled as she continued crying, sitting at the bus stop, as that sad, silent night continued for what felt like an eternity to Jiya.

...

A young man dressed in formal was pushing a wheelchair. His moment was quite robotic and coordinated as if he had been doing so for many years, at the same time, a bit gentle.

The blond man in the wheelchair looked quite young himself; God knows how such a young fellow ended up facing such a horrible fate.

The man pushing the wheelchair halted as they reached the giant glass door facing east to the garden. The scenic beauty of the rising sun could be viewed.

"Sir...?" The man in formal asked in a low, gentle and hopeful voice; however, it somehow hinted at a sense of anxiety.

The blond man shook his head in denial.

The man in formal sighed as he turned the wheel of the wheelchair and started pushing it towards the wooden door opposite the glass one leading to the corridor from where they entered.

#Note 

*All the statements in the double quote "..." are dialogues spoken aloud.

*All the statements in a single quote '...' are the dialogues that are thought.

* There is no such thing as a 'Bank account holder card' that exists, to be clear. It's just a thing in this story because it's set in a future where the civilisation was once destroyed and then rebuilt. It's like a replacement for bank books or passbooks.