"Of course! Oh, thank you, Hayato, I don't know what I would do without you, honestly. You are the best brother!"
Rory had a hard lump in her throat as she listened to the phone conversation her mother was having with her brother. She swallowed but no matter how hard she tried, the lump stubbornly refused to go down.
"If she's there by the end of the week, you'll be able to enroll her before she arrives and she can start at Ouran Academy first thing Monday morning!"
Tears were in her eyes. Her mother was tired of her. After two years of dealing with the daughter she had left behind years ago, she was going to once again pass her off to someone else. Her third home in the small amount of time she had been alive.
Not bothering to listen to whatever else her mother said, Rory quickly tiptoed up the stairs of the large ship she had been living in with her mother and into her room.
Long after the sun disappeared behind the horizon, Rory sat in her room, staring into space and digging a blade into the sensitive skin on her wrist. The decorations in her room cast long shadows on the walls and these seemed to be hungrily clutching at her.
Much like the intense loneliness and unhappiness that had pervaded her very being since her father died. While she had her mother with her, it seemed that nothing she did ever pleased her. She was not ladylike enough, too loud, too coarse, and too opinionated. She would often argue with her but always ended up obeying her wishes, although she never seemed to even notice the effort Rory put forth during these displays of obedience.
You were never good enough and you never will be. You're a failure, a mocking voice reverberated in her head like a record that had been scratched one too many times. She made another clean line in her pale skin and bit her lip. Being on board this ship with only her petulant mother for company was bad enough but the thought of being tossed away to another relative like an unneeded hand-me-down placed an added weight of hopelessness on her sensitive heart.
No one wanted her. No one would ever want her and it wouldn't be long before this unheard of uncle would tire of her and send her to someone else. She would forever have to live with being bounced from relative to relative and the festering loneliness that stabbed through her soul.
Dropping the blade, she wearily examined her handiwork. Slashes zigzagged cross both her wrists and continued well along her arms. She was bleeding slightly and the tears falling on her freshly made cuts stung. Despite the sharp pain she felt, the agony her heart was in outweighed it as she faced a future of forever being taken and abandoned. Her eyes filled with tears caused by despair and desperation. No, not again. She didn't want this, she didn't want any of this. She couldn't take this anymore.
Her eyes blurred with tears, she glanced around the room, looking for something, anything that could give her release from the thorns of hopelessness that had wrapped around her. Her eyes lit on a jump-rope her mother had given her to exercise with when she first came on board. She swallowed, a thought entering her mind. This was her escape.
About an hour later, Rory stood up on the chair she had positioned right under the pole in her closet. The jump rope was tied to it and wrapped tightly around her throat. She took a deep, racking breath and eyed the envelopes on her desk.
She had taken the time to write personal goodbye notes to everyone she knew. Her cousins, her aunt and uncle, even her mother. They contained no venomous or spiteful remarks. She had merely stated why she was doing this, how to divide her worldly goods, and other useful information.
Rory gave a deep, shaky sigh. She was tired. Tired of not having a permanent home, tired of the depression that hung over her head most days, tired of everything. She just wanted relief.
Picking up the picture of her father that she had brought into the closet with her, her eyes brimmed with tears once again. He was the only one who ever understood her and more then that loved her for it. And then a single act of cruelty stole him away from her.
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whispered, her voice cracking "I can't be strong anymore. I-I just can't. Please understand."
Closing her eyes tightly, she put the picture face down and prepared to kick away the stool. It would be uncomfortable for a little bit but then there would be relief. Blessed release. Her lip quivering she lifted a foot and began to nudge the chair away.
"Aurora!"
Her mother was calling her. Not now. Not when she was so close. Clearing her throat and forcing herself to sound relatively normal, she answered, "Yeah?"
"What on earth are you doing in there? It sounds like you're rearranging your entire room!"
Rory panicked when she realized that her mother might very well come in and see what she was about to do. In the desperation of the moment, she had completely forgotten to lock the door. She quickly untied the rope from around her neck and picked the chair up to put it in its proper place. She would rather face anything then have anyone see her in this state.
"Aurora? What are you doing?"
"Nothing!" she called as she removed any evidence of her intention to hang herself.
Almost hesitantly, her mother replied, "Well, alright but you need to go to bed. It's late."
"I was about to. G-goodnight."
Hearing the soft footsteps leaving the vicinity, Rory began to make her way back to the closet when a random memory crossed her mind.
She was ten and hiding in her bed. The day had been terrible and the fact that her mood was already down didn't help the fact. When she heard her father walking in the room, she was stayed silent, hoping he would think that she was asleep. He wasn't fooled though.
"Rory," he said quietly "I know it seems tough now and maybe you're so tired you can't stand even the thought of going through another day but it gets better. I promise you that bad things don't last forever."
She stopped in her tracks and whispered, "I know, Daddy, I know they're not supposed to but I...I just can't take it any more."
She could almost hear his response.
Please, Baby, just keep holding on. Don't give up yet. It's going to get better. Stay strong, I love you.
Giving a slight whimper, Rory forced herself to turn around and crawl into her bed. She lay there for only a few minutes before the heaviness of her exhaustion finally hit her and she fell fast asleep.
Her dreams were filled with stars and cold winter nights and the fresh smells of spring. And then her father's smiling face, his mouth saying, "I'm proud of you."
