Canolin's childhood
Disclaimer: OC is mine; Treasure Planet is Disney's
WARNING: rated T for language, violence, and traumatic childhood themes
Canolin has never liked talking about her childhood. It's traumatizing to say the least, and she'd usually leave out the details. But ever since she had her catharsis – with help from Jim Hawkins, who took charge of her during one of her voyages – with her biological parents, it's about time she openly talked about it to other people.
I wasn't originally known as Canolin Ma'ir, that was an adopted name my adoptive parents give me, and sometimes I also like to think of them as my real parents instead, they treat me a hundred times better than my biological parents anyway, let's just get down to the point.
So, I was known as Yvonne Annabel Murray before I got adopted. Mind you my hair color wasn't black to begin with as well. I had to use that to escape from the cops at first, but I'll get to that later.
I remember the times when they would beat me up when they were drunk or when I did something wrong, and they even flogged me once; I often wonder why other people don't notice that there was something wrong with my original parents! Maybe it was the secluded floating location and the huge front yard we had, or people were just ignorant. At one point I actually thought I needed to get used to even worse pains so I used a knife to cut myself at my leg, but my music teacher stopped me when he saw me. We had our private room for musical teaching, which was also a sort of jamming and recording room for my mother. It might also come as a surprise at first, but I was actually forced to learn the lute, only because my parents also took musicianship as a side job. They were such perfectionists too, whenever I played a music piece I just mastered, they would say my tone is dull, the harmonics are wrong, WHAT IS THEIR PROBLEM? My music tutor wasn't like that. He didn't mind if I half-assed through a song and gave me nice comments. I enjoyed his company, but it was short lived (but thank goodness my adoptive parents managed to find him again after 2 years, Thank you Mr. Raul!)
But the most vivid memory of my original parents was during the day I ran from home itself. I was only 9. It first started as me going to public school, and I had a couple of bruising from my dad last night for procrastinating my homework to be submitted today – hey I'm pretty sure you could still finish up homework just a bit before class, right? No, my dad thinks otherwise.
So yeah, I came with splotches of blue-black patches, including a pair at my eyes due to lack of sleep. My vision was quite blurry that day too, and while I was walking through the corridor I tripped and fell face down.
"Have a nice trip, Yvonne, see you next fall!" said that blaggarding gobshite of Ganky Lady Muck. Oh yes, the popular one who acts older than she is – NOT! Now that I look back, she's just an immature freak just trying to cover up her ugly side by putting other people down. Platinum blonde-haired, tan skinned Hanna.
"Thanks for the free ride, Hanna." I only got up and straightened myself and walked to the classroom, ignoring all their laughs. To be honest, I have always wanted to beat her up as bad as my parents usually would. Spoiled muzzy! Urgh! What's worse was that we both looked similar, the hair and skin only. Gee…
Then lesson went on as usual, and my teacher didn't say anything about my messy handwriting on my assignment except for just a raised eyebrow, thank heavens I wasn't getting into trouble. Hanna then came in and pulled her every-Wednesday-in-class-insult-a-Yvonne, and I had a nasty thought in my head, but I shrugged it off and groaned, but I mocked a laugh in the end. Oh, that mouldy bitch.
It was then at break time when I took my tray from the preordered menu: bonzabeast ribs, qice, and upnbun soup. I looked for a seat and ate alone, as usual. But I wasn't left alone, Miss ugly-on-the-inside had to come, and. Poured. Her. Upnbun. Soup. Over. My. Head.
"Oops, I'm afraid I have buttery fingers today." and the entire canteen pointed and laughed.
That eejit crossed the line this time. I was bottling up my anger since yesterday night, and she had to come and do this, as if the soup can douse my fire (well, technically it can, but it has to go inside the body instead of pouring it outside, so that fueled the fire instead.)I held the knife in a really dangerous position, and I threatened in a raspy voice, "Get away from me."
"Or what? Swing that knife?" Hanna tested my patience.
"That's IT!" I jumped from my seat and managed to slash it towards her collarbone. I was completely oblivious to the gawks and stares I was getting and I continued to use both hands and punched her (I lost grip of my knife) rapidly, every second I heard her scream from a hit made me feel better, this is the sweetest revenge I have ever had, and she became blood stained at the mouth and neck from the cut and my strikes. I was completely consumed in my pride in finally taking it out on the meanest person alive, but that didn't last long. A PE teacher saw what was going on and then, using his four arms, grabbed me by my arms, leaving my foot dangling, but I still didn't give up. I kicked around violently, while shouting like an aboriginal warrior, "LET ME GO! LET ME AT HER! I'M NOT DONE PAYING HER BACK FROM ALL THE TOTURE!"
"That's enough, Yvonne!" he said sternly. "Hanna, are you ok?"
"What happened? What is this hullabaloo?" the principal was there out of the blue.
"Mrs. Fa'el, Yvonne started hitting me when I accidentally spilled soup on her." Hanna pleaded and huffed between words, looking innocent, and covered in tears.
"SHE'S LYING! ACT LIKE YOU'VE DONE NOTHING WRONG, SURE! BUT YOU'RE FUCK UGLY ON THE INSIDE!" I screamed. Honestly, I couldn't remember when was it that I learned the F-word, but yeah. It deemed suitable in this context so I used it anyway. But saying it in grade school? Not a good idea, because if their gawking eyes could get any bigger, this was it, along with dramatic gasps like it was the end of the world. Psh, if saying the F-word actually triggered the end of the world, I wouldn't be here.
"Mr. Dixon, take Ms. Murray to my office pronto," the Neo-Sidth headmistress said. "I'll lead Hanna to the sick bay and contact her parents."
So I sat there waiting, guilty for the upcoming consequences that would befall me, but seriously? It was worth it, Hanna got to taste a bit of her own medicine. But when my parents come, I'll tell them…I'll say that she asked for it. She's been annoying me for a really long time. Wait, annoying seems to be placed in a nice manner, but my head's a bit fuzzy thinking of a bigger word than annoying. Around 15 minutes passed and the principal decided not to give me a scolding, which surprised me at first. She actually asked me what really happened, and what was going on between Hanna and I. So I told her everything, from the beginning of the semester when she was a transfer she didn't do much, she only started annoying me after a month or so, at first it didn't affect me as much, until she started doing physical pranks on me and started throwing insults too, to add insult to flame she also had to show off her cool toys she gets from her parents and especially pinpoint the kind of clothing I wore as well – they were simple, sure, but they were comfortable, and I don't need show-off designer corsets to say I'm happy when I am. That was how it led into me wanting to physically attack her and it manifested in the canteen.
"I've notified your parents about your wrongdoings, Murray. We'll think of a way to settle your case with Hanna Harrier. In the meantime, you're suspended from school for one week effective as of today," the principal said calmly.
One week away from school? That didn't sound that bad. My parents are usually away for work during the weekdays so I could bear with that. But I was thinking waaaay ahead, because my parents were planning to give me a beating as soon as they stepped into the room to pick me up. As soon as I got home, my parents dragged me by the hair into the house. I was given a tight slap, thrown onto the floor, was called "Uncontrollable useless piece of crap" and gotten another 5 hits from caning and I cried and wailed in pain. Back then, I wasn't against them beating me up, but ever since Hanna bragging about her parents, I shouted back with tears messing up my face, "Why can't you be nice to me for once? Can't all of my wrongdoings be forgiven as well? WHY CAN'T YOU BE LIKE NORMAL PARENTS AND GIVE ME A BEDROOM AND THINGS I WANT?"
"Rubbish!" he came down with a punch. "I've given you all the space you could possibly need in this mansion, but what! You want more? Why don't you come in with perfect grades that we all ask for? We only ask from you to get good results in school, but you have to end up fighting with another innocent girl!"
"SHE WASN'T INNOCENT!" I shouted and in return was given another slap to the other cheek by my mother, and said nothing.
I staggered to come up, and my knees were shaking like rotten purp. Ian, who was almost one, began crying of hunger in his toddler room. I ran upstairs into the master bedroom, thinking of crying it all out into my hammock – see? I didn't even have a proper bed, so did my brother, geez. I slammed the door shut and bolted it, leaving behind furious voices demanding me to come back down.
I don't know how many minutes passed, and then I began to think straight – run away from home and my torment would end. So I began packing into two big knapsacks. I took food from our mini refrigerator, a comb, a few sets of clothes and dresses, books, and I would never leave behind my lute. I thought Leslie was a cute pet name so I named her that, and sometimes would play pretend fetch with it. When I was sure that they were just inside the toddler room attending to Ian, I made a break for it as I unbolted the door, ran downstairs, and out into the front yard and eventually out of the gate for good. I took another flight of stairs that lead to ground level, and boy was I glad to smell the fresh air of Da'arth.
This was when I began to busk in the streets to keep myself alive. Every 2 hours I would walk to a different part of the street and play the pieces that my teacher taught me. I was at intermediate level already so most of the songs would come out decent enough for people to toss in coins. Little did I know that busking without a license was actually illegal, because I got into trouble with robo cops on my third day of living in the streets. They didn't even have to ask my name. They scanned my face and instantly identified who I was. I did manage to pickpocket a black hair dye in a grocery store without getting caught, just in case I needed an identity change.
And that was when I ended up back at square one, but not for long. Luckily it was one of those days when my music teacher would be here. Mr. Raul actually tried prying into me about what I was thinking, but I know I couldn't trust him to say that I want to get away from my parents. So, after my lesson has ended, I only told him, "Mr. Raul, thanks for being a really nice teacher, and saving me that time when you saw me cut myself."
"It's nothing, Yvonne, really. You should take good care of yourself and don't let anything bad bother you."
With that being said, it made more sense to run away from home didn't it? I faked my sleep and waited until they were out partying, and then I got up and began to dye my hair and eyebrows black. This time I also took a hood with me to cloak in the shadows when I really needed to steal something, anything, to survive. I still had the time to see my little brother, who was two weeks shy of turning one year old. He was sound asleep and I kissed his forehead, "Goodbye, Ian. If your parents ever treat you bad, run away and find me in the streets ok?" I swung two of my backpacks over my shoulder and carried my lute and began to make my second attempt at escaping, not going to look back and more careful this time.
After a week, I then discovered that there are underground musicians who also busk illegally and I joined the club, and took in the schedules that cops won't be around to check on our licenses. I was glad that I am no longer affiliated with living in a mansion with bad parents, in fact, I even felt free (until I knew how free it was like spacing, this was how "free" I felt) from all clutches of mistreatment and stupid public schooling and decided that mastering a music instrument is better than having to read until you graduate. But then again, street life did become uncomfortable for me after a while. I've been raped and got into a couple of fights, but that was that until Mr. and Mrs. Ma'ir, my adoptive parents, found me by luck and adopted me. They changed my name to fit their family name and my first name became Canolin. I must say my fate had flipped over and now I live a nice average life in an isolated village in the forest, and occasionally would go out spacing with my dad. This my friends, was the end of my childhood as Yvonne Murray and my preteen life as Canolin Ma'ir begins. (But actually at age 9, in the Neo-Sidth sense, was still considered a young child, until you hit 10 then you're considered a safe age to go spacing and consider you a matured child and then at age 15 you're a preteen and at 20 you're considered a teen. Ok, ok, I'll shut up. Go learn more about Neo-Sidths when you join the Neo-Sidth appreciation club in the ISA, ok?)
Author's Note: I wanted a diversion and so I decided to expand more on how Canolin ran away from home! This should be able to explain why she wasn't used to the "normal school" life at the ISA. Even if she may not be able to classify the cliques and elements of school with words at 9, I swear she should find some of it extremely familiar as the story for Life at the Interstellar Academy develops.
EDIT: I suck at coming up with names for on-the-spot characters . I realized the Neo-Sidth principal has a human surname (which in my canon says humans are unlikely to marry NS's because of the huuuuge age gap UNLESS she's around 120 years old...which is pedo)