Chapter One: The Day We Said GoodBye
A/N: The Italics is mention of past child-molestation and rape that occurred to the main character. If you wants to skip it, feel free.
Pointed fingers, raised eyebrows, and fearful eyes swallowed me as I stood in the middle of the classroom, running my nimble fingers through waist-length black tresses. The desks were pushed away as the terrified children shivered in their seats. One lone boy had anough courage, despite his young age, to say something.
"Murderer! Hana is a murderer!"
My golden eyes turned on him in confusion, but by the way he suddenly paled, he might've thought that I was glaring at him. I didn't understand why he was scared. All the pointing and whispering... what was it for? Had I done something wrong?
My eight your old eyes looked around, as if searching for some hint as for what was happening. All I could see were a couple upturned desks and shivering classmates. And then... something was cold- right on my hands.
I looked down and saw the red liquid covering my fists. I didn't cut myself, did I? No... that can't be it... Then I saw it... Or more specifically, her.
My teacher was a batty old lady with an ego the size of the gaping hole in her childhood. Ms. Bownam wasn't very pretty, but she sure was cruel. I'd often come home with tears running down my face from her vicious verbal abuse.
But why was she on the ground? Ms. Bownam often wore six-inch heels, but her height alone kept her balanced, not to mention the fact that she didn't move around much. Her over-the-normal-limit body was much more accustomed to sitting and glaring at us with her beady eyes.
But Ms. Bownam's eyes were tilted in their usual angry stare. They were wide and terrified, just like the childrens'. Not only that, but her body was covered in the same red liquid that covered my hands. With ragged breathing, the woman started yelling for the teachers next door to our small classroom. Two male teachers ran into the room with worried expressions on their faces, which swiftly turned to horror at the sight before them.
I understand now, I thought. Ms. Bownam was attacked. Attacked by... me.
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I stood above the quivering teacher. She was gasping for air and screaming her head off. Large puddles of water flew from my eyes and I saw the male teachers rush to her aid. One held me in his arms while the other called the police.
"Are you alright!?" The man holding me yelled.
Sobs wrenched my tiny body as I shook and cried. "I want my mommy!"
"Get her out of here!" The other teacher said, looking at me in both fear and disgust. "She's scaring everybody else."
Without responding to his coworker, the teacher holding me ran out of he classroom. Children screamed as I passed them, cowering away on all sides, desperately trying to escape. I let the sobs take over as the man took us into an abandoned classroom.
"I w-want my m-m-mommy!" I screamed.
The teacher had stopped altogther before standing near his desk. The classroom was eerily quiet as the children outside ran towards either Ms. Bownam's classroom, or the front office. And every teacher in the building was trying to round them up. Hysterical eight year olds were not to be trusted running around a big school during a crisis.
I felt a hand petting my black hair and sobbed even louder. He rocked back and forth on his heels as his arms tightened around my tiny little body, perched on his hip.
"Hana, Hana, Hana," he cooed. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"
I clutched his shirt and cried into his shoulder.
"That's alright, sweetheart. You can cry all you want. I understand. Don't be angry at yourself."
"Wh-why n-n-not?" I asked.
He set me down on his desk and I saw his face. Mr. Lamitino. He was a nice teacher who help me extra with my tests or questions. I always felt more comfortable around him because he wanted to talk to me more then any of the other kids. He would give me presents and drive me home, and even give me hugs and kisses like a daddy would.
It felt better when his hands started to caress my cheek. "You don't have to be mad at yourself because that bitch deserved it," he smiled.
I nearly cringed. Mommy had told me never to say those awful words, and I was sure not to because she said that they were for mean people. Even hearing them from a nice guy like Mr. Lamitino was hard to handle.
His hand brushed past my cheek and started skimming down my neck, and then to my chest. My tears quieted from the foreboding feeling I was getting in my gut. When his hand pushed down my stomach and towards my skirt, I knew that something was wrong.
I looked into his eyes and saw his staring directly at me. His face was virtually emotionless, but I could see some signs of excitement in his eyes. I pushed his hand gently as I sign to stop.
"I'm okay now, Mr. L. Can I go call my mommy now?" I asked as politely as I could. I didn't fully understand the situation, but I knew that I had to get out of there.
He continued to show no emotion while shaking his head 'no'. I tried pushing myself off of the desk, but he only maneauvered his body to block my escape.
"You can't leave now, Hana. You have to stay. I'll make everything better, I promise."
Something in his eyes told me that he was lying.
"No, I wanna see mommy," I argued, trying to run again.
He grabbed my hips and pushed me down into the desk with more force than necessary. My small little body was stinging from the impact. He hard hands enveloped my waist, pulling me against his chest. I gasped and screamed, punching his chest with my tiny fists, but he grabbed them and banged them against the desk, causing me to shriek.
"L-Let me g-gooo! I want my mom!" I cried, tears rushing down my cheeks.
He grabbed my face in his hands and tilted me up so I was staring at him. His face wasn't emotionless right now. It was... happy? No... that's not right... He looked...
Hungry.
Hands expertly flew threw my hair. A blanket of soft, black tresses was left from the brushing. The eyes were a deep golden, a compliment to milky white skin. Blending in with the snow-skin was a small, button nose resting above pink lips with a rosy texture.
I raised a hand to touch the girl in front of me but was stopped by glass. Yes, a reflection. But how could a mirror image be so false? The girl staring at me through the glass was the complete opposite of myself. She was beautiful and flawless. I was broken and disgusting.
It has always been this way. I am a lie down to the very last strand of hair.
I fought the urge to punch though the glass, but withheld it when I remembered how much a new mirror would cost my economically downtrodden family. Instead of letting out my anger like I wanted, I turned and marched into the living room with blank eyes.
The small one-bedroom apartment was kept neat and tidy, but the lack of space made it seem dirty. I detested our poor living conditions, but it was all that I could afford.
Yes, I said "I". Primarily, I am the caregiver of my family. Mother's been fighting a serious depression that had caused many other illnesses. Four years ago, I told her to stay in bed, and she just never got up. I had to get jobs, and lots of them.
I suppose it's worth it if mother is safe and as healthy as a woman going through heartbreak can be.
On instinct, I immediately started getting everything into shape- more so than it already was. Dusting an already dustless coffee table, I tried to keep myself busy for the thirty minutes before I had to be at work.
"Hana..." I heard from mother's room.
I looked at the white door with a sigh before getting up and walking towards the darkened hole. Mom, since going into depression, hadn't come out of that room in years. She hid herself from the world and didn't care for herself and the daughter that reminded her of the man that didn't return her love.
I opened the door, making a "creaking" noise and cringed. Mom was laying on her unkempt bed, laying lifelessly as she stared at the window. I almost cried at the sight, but I'd learned to turn off those emotions long ago.
She looked up from her position when I walked in to give me a small smile before she beckoned me over with a frail hand. I pushed myself to her side and grabbed her hand in both of mine.
"Did you need something, mother?" I asked in a masked voice.
She nodded with a smile. "Just a little water, Hana. I'm getting tired again."
I didn't respond, but offered her hand a squeeze, trying to convey the love I couldn't quite voice. Mothers understand, and she squeezed back with a smile.
I walked out to grab her some water before walking back in, only to find her sitting up on the bed. I gasped and ran to her side, putting my arms around her to keep her steady.
"Mama!" I yelped- the loudest voice I'd used in nearly a five years.
She waved me away with a frown. "I'm fine, Hana. Just let me have a drink of water and help me to the living room."
"But, Mama-"
"Please, Hana," she asked, her soft voice swaying my better judgement. "I just want to see the sun."
I looked into her begging eyes before sighing and helping her up. "Lean on me, Mama. You haven't used those legs in a very long time."
She frowned. "I know. And I'm sorry."
Why is she apologizing? She hasn't done anything wrong. It's my job to take care of her.
I help her to the couch and hesitantly opened the curtains. She gasped and hid her eyes for a moment, so I moved to close them.
"No, Hana, keep them open. It'll just take time for my eyes to adjust," she said, beckoning me closer to her.
I looked at her worriedly before looking at the curtains, and then back at her. I gave up with a soft exhale before sitting beside her on the small couch. She grabbed both of my hands before kissing them motherly. I cocked an eyebrow, confused by the action.
"Mama," I said emotionlessly. "What is wrong? Are you feeling alright? I can take the day off of work to be with you."
She nodded. "That would be nice, but I'm feeling quite fine."
Her smiles had be very unnerved. "You are not acting yourself, Mama. Tell me what's wrong with you."
Her gaze softened. "You are a good girl."
WHAT!? "I'm sorry, Mama. I don't quite understand."
"I said you're a good girl."
"I heard what you said. Could you please clarify? Are you feeling well?"
She hugged me and put a hand on my knee. "I'm feeling alright. I just thought you'd need to know that I'm proud of you."
My heart clenched, and I had the strangest feeling in my gut. What was this unknown emotion? I didn't like the way my chest tightened, or how a lump formed into my throat. And I most certainly didn't like the strange sensation of satisfaction in my head. Why had such a tiny sentence overjoyed me? Mere words weren't supposed to do that.
"I... I don't know what to say," I confessed, though it was hard to talk about a weakness.
I felt a dampening on my shoulder, and looked down to see her crying. I immediately grabbed her face. "Is something wrong!? What is a matter with you, Mama!? I must know."
She smiled through the tears and pat my hands. "These aren't tears of sadness. I'm happy, Hana. And I'm sorry. So very sorry."
"Please," I begged, keeping my voice hard and my face stoic, though I wanted to cry. "Clarify."
" 'Clarify' ", she repeated. "You sound so formal, my Hana. What have I done to you?"
"Nothing," I said, utterly confused.
She sighed and shook her head. "I haven't been taking care of you, have I, Hana?"
"Of course not," I scoffed. "That's not your job, it's mine."
She clasped her hands over mine, making me jump in surprise. "No, Hana. It's mine. There's so much you don't understand about the world. I've screwed you up a lot more than I thought."
I frowned. "I take offense to that, and so should you. I'm a perfectly fine individual. I've acquired a job, my license, and am enrolled into an online school."
"Exactly. You're a kid- fifteen year olds should be running around with boys and going to parties. I wish you had more time to grow up. If I had been more responsible- if I hadn't been wrapped up in my selfishness, this would be a different conversation. I'm sorry, Hana. I know you don't exactly understand, but you should know that you've been doing MY job for a long time."
"Mama," I scolded. "Even if that was true, you shouldn't blame yourself. You were sad and depressed- your illness effected you to the point that you needed bedrest!"
"I know, but I let myself drown in it, ignoring the fact that I had a little girl taking care of her mom instead of the other way around."
"I don't understand why you're having this conversation now, Mama. Something is wrong- that much I can tell."
She grinned, but I could see the sadness behind it. "You were always a very good girl- you noticed things that other people couldn't. Listen, Hana, I don't have much more time."
"Mama?"
"I'm dying, Hana. I've been dying for a while now. I reckon I have a couple hours left, at the most."
I jumped to my feet. "Excuse me!?"
Hana, my inner voice said. Do you realize that you've been showing more emotion now than you have before? I almost scolded myself.
"Oh, my dear Hana," Mama started sobbing. "Wish you'd had more time! And I wish I had more time. But I've accepted this. I just wanted you to know."
"Stop talking nonsense," I growled, looking away with a scowl.
"This isn't nonsense, Hana. But if you think it is, than pretend I'm playing a game. That's something you'll understand, right?" She cooed.
"Do not treat me like a child, Mama. I demand to know the truth."
"Just play along. For me, Hana," she begged, offering me a smile.
I caved and sighed. "Mama, what are you spouting, now?"
"Please, Hana. What would you say to me if I was dying?"
I looked at the ceiling before pinching the bridge of my nose. "Fine. Might as well." I turned to stare at her emotionlessly. "If you were dying, and I stress IF, I would thank you for giving me life, and then scold you for thinking badly of yourself. Mama, I take care of you. I don't care what society thinks; that is how it is, and how it has been. I refuse to believe anything else."
She nodded with tears glistening in her eyes. "I'm glad. If I was dying, I would tell you that I love you, and how proud I am for having such a strong little girl worthy of anything in the world."
I felt that same constricting feeling in my heart again. This emotion was truly getting on my nerves. It was truly a nuisance.
I turned away from her and grabbed my coat, which was at the door. Mama grabbed my hand with a soft smile.
"I love you, Hana. Please, say it back."
My eyes widened, and I stared at her incredulously. LOVE!? I haven't said such a word in a long time. Of course, I love people, and I care for everyone else, but why would Mama want to hear something she should already know!? Ugh, words are such a nuisance.
"Very well," I growled. "I love you, Mama. Now, get some rest. You've had an eventful day."
Tears streamed down her face and I almost screamed. What in the world is wrong now!?
She kissed my hand. "I'm very happy, Hana. And please don't hate me."
I sighed. Enough with this nonsense. "Mama, don't even say such a thing. Go to bed and rest yourself. Perhaps you'll be well enough to walk around later tonight."
"No, I don't think so," she whispered. "But I'd like you to grab some dinner for yourself before you come home. Just get something in a restaurant and enjoy yourself."
"Fine," I sighed. "And when I come back, this behavior better have ceased. I have no idea what's gotten you so wound up, but you should regain your senses before my arrival."
"Of course," she nodded, with a fake stern look. Is she mocking me!?
I scowled and turned to walk out the door. I opened it, nearly breaking the hinges, and shut the door. Before I shut it, I heard the faintest sound of my mother crying, before her soft whispering.
"Oh, God, please take care of my baby. Please take care of my Hana."
I almost ran back to her before deciding against feeding into her delusion. I rolled my eyes and scoffed.
What has gotten into that woman? She should calm herself before she actually causes some damage to her sanity and health. This better have ended when I come home. Even if it was sleeping all day, her behavior before was far less infuriating.
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:) To Be Continued...