Arming Oneself
o0o0o0o
There are times when Ming Hua vividly remembers her arms. Over the years, she'd more than compensated for her lack of arms with her Bending, doing far more than people who possessed arms of flesh and bone. Yet, such arms had once been part of her, and like anyone else who has ever lost a limb, there is that feeling of missing something.
This feeling does not come on her often, but she does have her moments of regret and sadness, wondering if, had she still had her original arms, would she have joined the Red Lotus?
o0o0o0o
For as long as she could remember, her life was fraught with one difficulty after another. She'd been born in the Northern Water Tribe, but her father, the youngest son of a large family, had not much to expect in the way of inheritance, and unfortunately, in a family where most of his siblings seemed to be smarter or more talented than him.
To escape the shadow of his family, he'd moved himself, his wife, and young daughter to the northern part of the Great Continent, hoping to use his skills as a Waterbender to better support himself and his family in a place where Waterbenders were a lot less common – and therefore, hopefully more valuable.
Unfortunately, he'd escaped one shadow only to place himself under another. As a stranger in a strange land, dealing with customs different than the ones he'd come from, and having a mild personality on top of that, made it too easy for him to be a victim. There are always those in every place who are quick to take advantage of newcomers, and her father had the unfortunate luck to attract such people.
It cost him his life, and his poor luck passed down to his wife. Pregnant at the time, the stress of her husband's death caused her to miscarry, and she nearly died for it. Ming Hua remembered taking care of her after finding her curled up on the floor with blood on the floor and soaking her dress and thighs. Money was tight for a while, and she had even had to go out on the streets, begging for money, but she did what she had to.
Fortunately, her mother made a recovery. She even found a job as a maid for one of the wealthier citizens of the city, and for a little while, things were good. They didn't have to go begging at the marketplace at the end of the day for discards from the grocers, or beg the neighbors for old clothing or scraps, or fret over making the rent to be able to stay in the tenements they lived in. They were far from wealthy of course, but for the first time since her father's death, Ming-Hua felt hopeful for her future.
o0o0o0o
Her mother finally saved enough money to move them to a better place. The new place was still considered 'poor' but there were no rats or cockroaches, and for one woman and her daughter, the two small but clean rooms were more than enough to suit their needs. Wanting a better future for her daughter, Ming-Hua's mother spent some of her hard-earned money to send her to a better school.
Even then, Ming Hua knew she was poor. At home, she didn't think about it, since she and her mother had what they absolutely needed, and compared to their dire situation before, that was enough. She studied, did her assignments, helped her mother around the house, and when she had time, practiced her Waterbending.
Without a father to teach her, and her mother too poor to afford any more education than she already had, Ming-Hua had to teach herself. Her mother did her best to encourage her, remembering what she'd seen in the North Pole, trying to describe this or that move to her, but since Mother wasn't a Bender, a verbal description only went so far.
Ming-Hua absolutely loved the element. She enjoyed school, but she enjoyed her Bending more, however amateurish she might be. There was a simple joy to feeling and manipulating her element, and what she lacked in sophistication, she made up for in enthusiasm.
o0o0o0o
Her life would change one day in a way that would have lasting repercussions to herself and those around her. Very well aware of what happened to her father despite her relatively young age when he'd died, she saw the contrast between rich and poor as clearly as anyone else would see night and day.
There was one boy at school who was the son of a well-off grocer. His name was Yinrong. He always had nice clothing, coins in his pocket, and an entitled attitude. He believed himself to be better than anyone who was not as well-stationed as him, but Ming-Hua ignored him as she would anyone else who would make fun of her well-worn clothes or simple lunches her mother wrapped in cloth. Mother always said that it was character that gave a person worth, not money.
One day, she was on her way home from school. That part of the city was being developed, and there was a relatively new innovation called electricity, which gave way to all sorts of things like telegraphs and light bulbs.
The school building had been fitted with wiring and light bulbs several months ago, which made reading much easier on dark and cloudy days, and also did well to illuminate the hallways. She liked the lights and how they illuminated otherwise dark spaces. If she had such bulbs at home, studying at night would be so much easier especially during winter. Fuel for lamps was expensive for people like her or her mother, and candles were not very good light for reading, or sewing, something her mother – and sometimes Ming-Hua herself – did at home to earn extra income.
She was passing by a construction site when she heard her name yelled. She turned to see her familiar nemesis with several of her friends, and rolled her eyes, deciding to just move on. She continued walking, and heard her name yelled again.
"Hey, little bitch! Don't think you're too good for me!" The voice was much closer, and she turned in alarm to see the small group of boys advance towards her.
"I am going home to study," she said resolutely before she resumed her walking, now moving at a much more brisk pace. Unfortunately, this tactic did not work, and despite her breaking into a run, the boys were upon her, dragging her away. The construction site was an all too easy spot to conceal whatever it was they might want to do to her, and she felt her heart pound in terror. She tried to Bend, hoping there was water nearby that would respond to her command, but the boys had her arms twisted painfully behind her back.
"When one of your betters addresses you, you should know better than to walk away," her tormentor said as he stood in front of her, his arms crossed as his cronies restrained her. She glared at him. He was a handsome boy of about twelve or thirteen, and she knew he was popular among the girls.
"You're not better than me," she shot back angrily. "You're nothing but a bully!"
"Big talk from a poor orphan."
"I'm not one!"
"Your father is dead, isn't he?"
"I have my mother!" She wiggled against the boys holding her, trying to twist her arms free of their grip, but unfortunately the boys were considerably bigger than she, especially given her wiry build.
"I bet you're a bastard!" one of the boys said.
"Haha, you're probably right!" Yinrong said with a cruel smirk. "I heard poor people breed indiscriminately like rats, spitting out baby after baby, and..."
"Stop!" she screamed, recalling her mother crying and clutching her stomach with the blood pooled around her feet, and the misshapen lump of flesh that had come along with the blood. She tried her best to stop herself, but she felt tears breaking free.
She could sense water nearby, but there was no way for her to Bend it without the use of her arms, and she suspected that was why she was being restrained in such a fashion.
"Let's see what's under these clothes. I hear poor girls are eager for that kind of thing and have no self-control."
Her eyes widened in horror at the implication. Not yet a teenager, she still knew the mechanics of intercourse and what happened between a man and a woman, her mother had given her the talk several months ago along with explaining about moon-time, to prepare her daughter for the inevitability of puberty. Add to that the sounds she sometimes heard from adjoining units in the building, and she had a pretty firm grasp of just how Yinrong could hurt her.
Fortunately for her, her legs were not restrained, and she started kicking fiercely as Yinrong came within reach.
"You!" he said, beckoning to the fourth boy, who had so far managed to stay behind. Ming-Hua recognized him and wondered what he was doing here. He was definitely better off than her, but not as well-off as Yinrong. He'd never given her any trouble in the past.
The boy stepped forward, and Ming-Hua sensed he was uncomfortable. She looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would be her savior, though she knew the chance was slim – he was the smallest in the group, and Yinrong and his two friends would be easily able to give this boy a beat-down.
"Help me take off her shoes and pants!" Yinrong commanded him.
"Isn't this going too far?" the boy – was his name Ren or Wen, she tried to recall – asked.
"Shut up and do as you're told, or I will tell my father that I saw your father skimming money out of the cash-box at the store. Isn't your mom real sick? Gee, I'd hate to imagine what would happen if your father were to lose his job..."
That explains it, Ming-Hua mused sourly. Wen, or Ren, stepped forward, his eyes on the ground. Even though the smaller boy was not exactly forthcoming with his effort, Yinreng was still able to remove her shoes and pants, leaving her in her underwear, short dress, and jacket. She looked around, finally screaming for help.
Suddenly, one of her socks was stuffed into her mouth, and she made muffled mewling noises as she looked at Wen pleadingly. He refused to make eye contact, and without the ability to form words, she couldn't make any pleas.
Fortunately, when the time cane to divest her of the rest of her clothing, she had a window of escape. To remove her jacket meant letting go of at least one arm at a time, and she acted quickly, lifting up her free fist to punch the boy holding her other arm before Yinrong could pull her arm from the sleeve.
She broke free of the group and ran without thinking. She felt rock and earth under her feet, as well as paved concrete in one area, as she blindly ran for refuge and safety among the building supplies and half-built structure.
It was starting to get dark on this late autumn day, and she was thankful for the cover as she hid behind this or that, hearing her name being called out. Yinrong and his two friends were looking for her, she knew it. She hoped that Wen went for help. Spirits, please.
If she could slip away from the site without being noticed, this would end. Her heart thudded as she came up against a completed wall. There were no windows on this side, and the unfinished door was barricaded with more equipment, presumably to keep people from sneaking in. She'd also made the mistake of running in the opposite direction of the water she'd sensed before, and she wasn't anywhere near proficient enough to Bend from this distance. She pulled the sock from her mouth and took a deep breath, catching her wind.
In the semidarkness, she saw coils of black wire, and though the sight was partially obscured by bags of concrete and stacks of brick, she recognized a power box. She'd seen several of those before, and knew these were responsible for the light that shone from the bulbs, and what enabled the telegraphs to send their messages.
Footsteps were heard from behind her, and she stifled a gasp as she scrambled forward, desperate to escape her tormentors and a fate that any girl – poor or rich – dreaded.
In doing so, she traded one danger for another. At that time, nearly thirty years ago, the dangers of electricity were not as well-known. Those responsible for installing and maintaining the power boxes, wires, and systems were aware of what electricity could do to the human body. However, the phenomena of harnessing electricity for personal use was still relatively new, so the ordinary person was not likely to know the dangers presented by this seemingly innocuous discovery. Consequently, equipment such as this power box didn't have protective panels or off-switches, or anything else that would serve as a buffer between a person and the incredible power that surged through the circuits. Not an issue for someone who knew their way around such devices, but unfortunately, she was not such a person.
She yelled as her collar was grabbed by Yinrong.
"Hey, we need some light in here!" he said. One of his friends Bended a flame from his palm, and Ming-Hua gave out an alarmed cry. This couldn't be happening, could it?
"Please, let me go! This is wrong!"
"What would a poor street rat know about decency?" he sneered. That stung her pride. Her mother didn't like the word poor, and would tell her that there was no reason to call herself poor when all of her needs were being met.
Mihg-Hua kicked him, and he gave out an angry shout and shoved her, causing her to stumble. She saw the box in front of her, and threw her hands in front of herself. As soon as her hands touched the cold metal of the device, she wanted to scream, but the pain and shock of it stole her voice away, and as she would soon discover, much more than that.