A/N: This is for Naty17's weather contest! The theme is Sunny.
This one shot does mention rape, but it is only a few lines long. I'm sorry if you do not want to read because of this. But remember, it's a small part of the whole.
And I know this could be classified as the "stormy" entry but I think the ending is what categorizes it as "sunny."
P.S. It's more like a journal/shadowing type of thing. That's my style of writing. And YES, I know I did not use quotation marks when they talk. I meant it to be that way. Enjoy!
Length: 2,299 words
Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon.
Sunny Island. That was the name of the island I currently occupied. I couldn't say that it wasn't a peaceful and inviting island; I would be lying to do so. The problem was not the island, but me. I was the problem that did caused my sorrow. I would do my work like a workaholic, and barely spend time with my friends, if that's what they were considered. I barely talked to them in general, but they made an effort to befriend me. And so, I seemed less anti-social than ever before. But even the unusual amount of people that talked to me did not change how I acted, or thought nonetheless. I was still the empty shell I always was since I was ten years old. It was still so clear in my mind, with what happened that dreadful night.
In front of my eyes, my parents were murdered. Police tirelessly searched for leads or suspects for the murder, but they soon gave up and concluded it was an accident. To this day I still doubt whether the murderer killed my parents by accident or was there a reason for it? I wouldn't be able to tell anyone.
With my parents both murdered, I was forced into a foster home or as I like to call it, my childhood hell. That foster home, Castanet Foster Home to be exact, made me more messed up. The murder of my parents seemed more than any small child could bear, but it was mistaken how much suffering a child could withstand without doing anything rash. For eight years, I stayed in that house. I was forced to cook, clean, and allow myself to be ordered as a maid for the owners of the house. I wasn't the only one there, but everyone knew I was treated the worst. I was the only one that was abused if something went wrong. Even if it wasn't my fault. I was so little and naïve, I didn't know how to defend myself or have to strength to leave. It was one day I was there that I vowed when I was eighteen; I would leave that hell hole and try to start my life over as a young adult. That day was when I broke emotionally. It was a break that would never be able to be fixed, and would remain shattered. That day, I was raped.
I was only fourteen. I knew everything, but was inexperienced. The boy who committed the foul deed was one of the only kids I talked to. His name was Owen. He was a brawny and strong headed kid. He would always tease me and made me happy, which was rare to do. I even laughed with him at times. For some reason, Owen caused a part of my shattered soul to piece back together. That was why I stayed close to him, and befriended him as if he held my life. In my opinion, at that time he did.
I didn't think he was capable of taking advantage of me. I had wiggled my way out of sticky situations before this. But apparently, this time he was prepared. I was walking from the kitchen downstairs to my room that I shared with some others girls on the third floor. It was a very long walk so I wasn't expecting much, as always. As I passed an intersection of hallways, someone grabbed me and pulled me into an empty room. It was Owen. I asked him what was wrong, and he said nothing. I didn't know what he wanted, but I would have never guessed he wanted sex. He caught me off guard and slammed me against the door and hissed in my ear that he would get what he wanted and I would do what he asked or suffered the consequences. Then, he ripped off my clothes and thrust roughly into me. I remember tears sprung from my eyes as the pain enveloped me. I was a virgin, and I thought he had been one too. But he knew what he was doing too, and I knew he wasn't. Why did he chose me to have his way with? I couldn't tell you. But he continued to thrust harshly into me and I started to scream, for both pain and for help. But when he covered my mouth with his hand, I knew that I would not be able to get out of it. I closed my eyes as the tears streamed down my face. Once he was done, he threw me on the floor and kicked me in the ribs. Speak of nothing, he had said before leaving me all alone, naked and scarred for life.
I was always paranoid after that. I stopped talking to him, and made sure someone was with me at all times. It lasted for four years until my birthday. I was one of the longest staying children, or now teen, that had ever stayed at the home. They threw me a party, a birthday gift and a farewell gesture. I was to leave the day after my birthday. I looked around to see most of my friends I had made over the years gone. They had either been adopted or had suffered for some reason and moved to a better place. It really was a surprise they would even acknowledge I had a birthday, with the cruel and hasty ways the house had. I stopped when I saw Owen in a dark corner of the room, eying me. I stiffened and gulped. I had barely seen him in years, I forgot he didn't die or get adopted. But I shouldn't have been so surprised. He was a dark and twisted person that no one wanted to deal with. The party ended just as quickly as it had started, and I quickly made my way to my room, knowing Owen would try to make his last move on me. I saw my door and sprinted in, afraid that he would catch me soon. When I turned to pack what I had, I screamed. There, sitting on my bed, was Owen. I hissed out to him, what do you want now? If it's sex, it's not going to happen. You already raped me four years ago. He chuckled and stood up, gliding over to stand in front of me, too close to what I had liked. He bent down and whispered in my ear, But I know a part of you enjoyed it. And when the time comes, I'll find you my sweet. I'll find you one day where I know you won't be able to leave me again like you will tomorrow. I shivered in fear as he stated his claim. He smirked and proceeded to walk out of the room. I had dropped to the floor, terror engulfing me. How would I ever escape him? It seemed I would never be able to. The next day, I left early in the morning, and no one saw me leave. I didn't want to hear insincere goodbyes from people I barely knew. I bought a boat ticket with what little money I had, and boarded, welcoming the week long boat ride to a place called Waffle Island.
I stayed in Waffle Island for two years. I thought the peaceful surrounds of the island would help me with my emotions, but it just formed into an empty shell, like it is today. I couldn't get over how Owen said he would come for me, and who knows what he would do with me. The two years on Waffle Island were delightful, but I thought it was time for me to move on. That island wasn't the one for me. It reminded me of city life inside the foster home, and memories like that were not acceptable. So I bought another ticket with my own earnings and boarded the boat, this time on a two week ride to Sunny Island.
Surprisingly, it wasn't sunny when I arrived. Maybe it was just me being a stereotypical person. But somehow, I knew the island's weather was not usually this dreary. But the weather perfectly matched how I felt now. Dark, depressed, and dreary. As if there was no hope for me. And it was true. I had stayed there for six months, and still no sun shined. It was peculiar, with no sun on such a tropical island. But there was something different on this island. The islanders politely chatted with me, not being fake at all. It did mean something to me, but I never showed it. Simply because I forgot how to show emotions. After all those years, I could not show emotion. Happiness and love reminded me of Owen, the person that had betrayed me after I was loyal to him. One man did particularly catch my eyes because he seemed so much like me. He wore cowboy attire, complete with the hat. He was cold, indifferent to everything, and anti-social. I could only imagine what he had gone through to be like that. Not that it was my business.
Six months on Sunny Island. I looked out at the sea from the rocky cliffs and I couldn't help but think, where was the sun been this whole time? Was it my fault? Was it the Goddess telling me to give up everything? What did I have? Nothing, because my life was worth nothing. I stared over the edge as I thought to myself, why do I deserve to live? Nothing had ever gone right. I was raped at fourteen and now, at twenty years old, I was running away from that rapist. I was a coward who couldn't face her fears. My life seemed so little compared to everyone else's. I looked down at the sharp rocks. It would be so easy…
I steadied myself as I prepared to leap from the edge. It was better to end my pain now. Why should I have to suffer so much while others didn't? What had I ever done that was terrible enough that karma deemed it appropriate? My hands were about to slip from the edge when I heard someone scream, CHELSEA! NO!
I safely sat back on the edge of the cliff as I turned to see Vaughn, the man with the cowboy attire. Yes? I asked quietly, unsure why he was even here.
Chelsea why would you even think about it? The pain can't be that great to really consider! He exclaimed.
I had never seen him so full of emotion. He truly cared about me. The clouds above turned darker as he made his way towards me. Chelsea, he said, I know what you are going through. Feeling so lost and hopeless, almost like the misery will never end. But it will get better. I will be here to help.
Yet again I said nothing. What I was I to say? You know nothing? Not likely. He did know what I was feeling. But how great of the pain he endured, I did not know.
Chelsea, you may think you have no one but you have me. For the past six months I had been watching you, knowing you went through so much in the past. You were a shell, as if your soul had left your body. But know, you have a soul that needs to live, not to throw away. I will be here, you will get better.
I spoke this time. I know I am a shell. I've known that for a while. But you Vaughn, you have better things to worry about.
I heard footsteps and the next thing I know, I was pulled back away from the edge and into Vaughn's arms. This feeling of warmth was something I had not felt in so long, it was foreign to me. Flashes of my parents zoomed in my head. That was the last time anyone did something like this. It brought tears to my eyes for the first time in years. Once I started, I could not stop. The clouds continued to darken as Vaughn and I stayed in an embrace as I cried. When I finally calmed down a bit, Vaughn pulled back a little to look at my face, softness evident in his violet eyes.
We will get through this Chelsea. You will never be alone again. Have hope and tell yourself to not give up. Vaughn whispered.
Okay. I said. I truly believed that maybe with his help, I could get out of my shell.
The dark clouds faded and in its place was the blazing, bright sun that had been absent from my life for so long. Not only the sun in the sky, but the light in my heart.
Maybe, just maybe, I would be okay after all.