Normally I would say that it goes without saying that one can never miss what one never had, but in fact, you can completely miss everything you never had and what you never knew you had. Whether you had it or not, you knew you should have, but when you realize that it was never there the emptiness of that missing "puzzle piece" can eat away at your soul. That is, if you believe you have a soul. There is always the possibility that you could also be an atheist and would therefore not believe in a higher power, or you might have at one point, but have long since forgotten it. Then you are left only with remnants of the past, for example, a rosary. Something that could have meant so much to you at one point, but then the true meaning slips away, fading with time. Scars and memories will fade too, yet it still remains. Hidden. Another thing, for example, one may acquire some cheap, inanimate object that they come to be so emotionally attached to, it becomes the one thing that can suppress the feeling that the certain emptiness and longing ensues.
- - -
My goggles fogged up, the tears causing condensation to form on the cool surface of the orange lenses. It was the first time I had thought about it in months. Thought about what? Well....
That whole once forgotten life. Or maybe it had never been forgotten, but merely suppressed so it seemed that I had no longer had a past. Only future.
That childhood, a home, loving parents. Maybe that belonged only in fairytales. Maybe it was just never meant for me. I am sure that you know what picturesque childhood I am talking about; there is no need for me to say more... Professionals always say that you grow up to be like your parents; the only thing that I wonder about – am I going to grow up like mine? How does the person I am now relate to them?
They were so carefree. So carefree that they never even thought about me from what I could tell. Sure, they provided me what I needed, but I was pretty sure that they were never my real parents. I just never felt that connection to them. It was not even just a fleeting suspicion. I was close to positive. I knew that there was something wrong. One day at home I was snooping around in my parents' closet while they were at work. I found nothing of interest there. But then, I moved up to our attic. It was there that I found what I think my story truly was.
I found pictures, letters, and goggles...
Pictures of my mother and. Lord, she was beautiful. Shimmering marble green eyes, long silky auburn hair, pale cream skin; a graceful, straight nose, a beautifully shaped mouth, and smiling eyes – a lean womanly torso, long regal legs. My definition of beauty, her. She was my mother. She was mine. Kaiya Jeevas. My mom.
My father... Tall, dark, muscular – I would suppose attractive as well. Maybe not. He was tall, well built; he had dark hair and dark eyes – well in contrast to Kaiya. My father. The strongest man I ever would have known. Saosin Jeevas.
Letters, lots of letters...
"Mail,
Forgive us for leaving you like this... Something came up, we could not stay here. We left you here for your own good... Write us back, your "parents" will mail the letter to us...
Love,
Mom and Dad"
"Mail, honey, I'm sorry that you have not yet written us back. You must understand, we could not take you. We love you more than the sun, stars, and sky. You are our life. We are forever thinking of you.
Love,
Mom and Dad"
"Mail,
I understand that you probably feel hurt and abandoned, but we truly regret ever having to leave you. We will come back for you as soon as we can. We love you.
Love,
Mom and Dad"
That was the last letter I never received from the both of them.
"Mail,
I am coming for you in a few days. I am so sorry. I know that you are an extremely gifted child, so I do not understand why you would never write back. I know you can do it. I will see you in a few days – on your fifth birthday, honey. I am filled with chagrin. What kind of mother ever leaves her child?...
Mail, you must forgive me. It has broken my heart that I have sent you more than fifty letters, but you have never once replied. It simply tore out your father's heart... Your father, Saosin Jeevas, has perished. It was his long standing wish and everlasting hope to receive a letter from you, given we never really knew you...
See you soon, Mail,
Love,
Mom"
She wanted me! She was going to come for me! Why did she not?
Apparently life was more complicated than I would have seen...
I walked back downstairs to my parents' room. I picked the lock on their filing cabinet. I found records, almost like a diary, written by my "mother" it claimed:
"February 23rd.... Kaiya Jeevas arrived to come receive Mail... Our employer ordered us to lure her upstairs claiming Mail to be asleep... We stabbed her to death."
She had come for me! My "parents" were murderers!
Why?
Why?
Why?
I had to run away. What if they were going to murder me too?
I returned to the attic to sift through the box's contents once more. I found some old sort of video game. The original Game Boy. It belonged to my father... I hurried down the stairs back to my room and stuffed almost everything in the box into a knapsack. I pulled the goggles onto my head, and shoved my feet into some Chuck Taylor's. I clomped down the stairs to my kitchen and pulled out a sleeve of graham crackers, a hunk of bread, some cheese, some chocolate, and some carrots and celery out from various places, putting them into my bag. I would need to eat for the duration of my voyage... I did not know where I was going or where I would stay, but I needed some simple necessities of life.
Before walked out the front door, I swiped my "parents'" money from their room – what was there anyway. I grabbed a clean toothbrush and toothpaste, and left.
I could not use public transportation for people would wonder what a boy of five was doing on his own. I would surely be returned back to those murderers. I decided that possibly a train station would be safe. I would travel as far as I needed to, to get away by train. It wounded like a good plan to me.
While waiting for the train, I pulled out my father's gaming device and began to play.
It was addictive.
I missed four trains before a serviceman asked me if I was waiting for someone. I told him that I was merely afraid to get on the train by myself; that I was going to visit my grandmother. My parents decided that I could go by myself. He helped me get on the next train.
I stayed on that train playing video games for hours, I only paused to eat a snack of cheese and bread. I was so hungry. I had not eaten since the night before. I was still worried about whether I made the correct decision in leaving or not. I shrugged it off and returned to my game.
Playing the game made me forget about the world around me. I lost the ability to recognize that there were other people around me; I concentrated extremely hard focusing all of my thoughts and energy on it. That is, until an older man got boarded. He sat down next to me.
He had whitish-gray hair, eyes hidden behind glasses, facial hair – the kind of person that almost reminded me of a pedophile – a creeper. This man though, he was different. He had a smile in his eyes, a lift that gave his face life and light. His eyes sparkled. He pulled his brown leather suitcase onto his lap, holding it on his freshly pressed, crisp brown suit. Upon his head was a brown hat as well.
I squirmed trying to hide in the corner of my seat.
"Hello there," the man said, turning to me.
"H...hello...." I whispered, shying away.
"What is your name?" he asked.
"Wh...who are you?" I asked.
"Hmm? My name? Watari."
"Watari..." I repeated.
"Yes, and yours?"
"M-Mail...." I lowered my head, my red hair falling forward, concealing my face in shadows. What if he was looking for me? Sent by my parents to come and fetch me.
"Mail... Mail Jeevas, perhaps?"
I hesitated. My fears were realities.
"Y-Yes..." my head hung.
"I have been looking for you." Watari smiled.
"Huh?"
"Have you run away from home?"
"Uhhuh..."
"You ran away from your mother?"
"No! I mean... I don't have a mother."
"Then you are exactly who I have been searching for."
"Oh... So you're taking me back there?"
"Heavens no! I am taking you to Wammy's house."
"W...Wh-where?"
"Wammy's house. An orphanage for gifted children."
"You aren't making me go back home?"
"No. Never. You must pass a test though. We need to know what we are working with."
"Oh. Okay." I looked up at Watari. I would not learn until later that my mother had arranged for this to happen...
"Dear boy, put that game away for now." Watari asked.
"Sure!" I stuffed it in my satchel.
"Good boy. You seem very bright."
I beamed.