- The fool is like a child, open and innocent. Signalling a fresh start, and infinite possibilities. -


"There will always be something to ruin our lives, it all depends on what or which finds us first. We are always ripe and ready to be taken."

Charles Bukowski


Death was cold. So cold in fact, that I wondered if I really did make it into hell. I counted through Dante's circles, and realised that I technically qualified for at least three. I was never baptised, I wasn't even vaccinated until I had told my grandparents that I didn't even know what needles were, but they weren't religious so neither was I. I was most definitely guilty of sloth and maybe even wrath but if memory served then being encased in ice required treachery. I was never treacherous. Was I?

It wasn't until a voice rang out that stopped me in my thoughts.

"Hello?"

If this were hell, then Satan truly is everything you want him to be, I thought. He sounded like my father. It made me want to weep in sadness and joy, but I couldn't see. I couldn't see past the dark curtain of black before me, and the cold felt even colder knowing that if he were right in front of me, I wouldn't even know.

"Sweetness, you look troubled." The darkness -my daddy spoke, like warm honey. Sweet and silken, yet not enough to cringe. "Tell me, what's wrong?"

"How do you know?" I asked wearily in no direction, yet felt my voice strongly in both ears. "How do you know I am troubled if you can't see me?"

"A father knows his daughter best, love." He chuckled deeply, like he was amused. "Tell me what is wrong."

"Daddy- It, it's you, right?" I asked, but it felt more like pleading. The scar of his death was one I had buried away, but I never forgot. Even when the world had, I didn't. But the pain had never left me either. I was angry, livid when I was younger but it turned into a dull ache and then a silent longing as I aged. The gap he left was never filled, and I was always left wanting, even when I didn't truly want anything that was only in arms reach.

"Yes, it is love." I could hear his smile, for the first time in years- I- I didn't want to believe it. It was like my heart decided to vomit up every ugly feeling I had buried away all in one moment, yet with no means to show it.

"I-missed you." My voice quivered and shook, I could feel tears form on eyes I didn't think I had. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you love, but I think something's wrong. Don't you?" I sniffled, through another body part I didn't think I had. I didn't reply, not quite yet ready to speak. "Something is off."

"What?" I tried blinking, seeing. But alas, it didn't make a difference.

"You." I stopped, he continued. "You aren't quite done yet, are you love?"

"What do you mean? I'm dead, I have nowhere else to be." I have nothing left.

"No, you aren't staying, are you?" He spoke again, and the honey started to feel like acid. "You're just like your mother, aren't you love?"

"What?" He can't be serious. "No! Daddy, I'm not going anywhere!" I am nothing like that woman.

"What a liar. Quite an actress you are, you always did take after her more than me."

"Daddy I-" I choked on my breath, I didn't know what to say to convince him otherwise, "-I'm not going anywhere I promise!"

"Promise?" He spat the word out like it was foul on his tongue. "You are your mother's daughter."

"What do you mean? I keep my promises, I'm not like her, I'm not!" He really thought I was going to leave him. My heart trembled and shook, parts of it took pleasure in knowing that he felt my pain and sorrow because of me but it squeezed to the point I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"But you are. Your mother promised to return and she didn't. Not for you, not for me, not for us. And now you too, are leaving me. I know you're upset that I left so soon but this isn't fair! I died and watched over you and your mother, protected you as best as I could and this is how you repay me?! My own daughter!"

"…you watched over us?" my voice was weak, throat clogged with cries that I didn't want him to hear- that I didn't want to give. "Daddy, please I-"

"Hush. I did." He sighed, "Despite what you may think of me, I watched you grow. Through all your sorrows and pain, you grew into such a strong young woman." His voice was soft again, a short reprieve from his earlier venom. I was comforted by that at least. He loved me, didn't he?

It was short lived though as his anger came back with force. "I also watched your mother roam around the world with some fool with deeper pockets and she fell for every trick in the book. Shallow woman, now pitifully raising another daughter and son all on her own while he does it all again with some younger and prettier naive little girl. I may have been a coward, but she is a greater idiot than I could've been."

A silence befell us. Thick and heavy. I never knew what became of my mother. But she did what? That is what she left us- me, for another life, with another man, another daughter. My heart pulled and tore. I believed her, for years, I had believed her. That one day she would return for me. I was passed off from a dead father to complacent grandparents while she enjoyed another life? Was I not enough of her daughter to want, to care for? Did she ever even think of me? Of father? Did she even know we were dead?

"She was always a cruel woman, and I hoped that if anyone could change her, I could. But all I did was create another one, didn't I?" Each word cut like knives, digging themselves deeper. I want nothing to do with that woman, she was as much my mother as he was my father.

That's right.

I had almost forgotten how he'd gone and drunk himself to death. Leaving me, me, his precious daughter to stumble upon his fucking corpse. What a farce. Maybe he was right, maybe I am my mother's daughter, but I am also his child. This rotten apple didn't fall far from the tree. I swallowed down the sadness, the longing. And all that was left was bitterness.

"I wasn't going to go anywhere, but now, I just might." I spat my own venom, just as potent. "Both my parents bail out on me in life, I think I can do the same in death."

A spark emerged, as if answering my call. A literal light at the end of the tunnel. Like a door that opened, I didn't hesitate to move. I felt like a bull seeing red and moved towards it like it was the air I needed to breathe. Anger tore at me the same way sorrow had, but I spent my childhood in mourning. I wasn't wasting another moment on tears. When I reached it I had already begun to feel myself be pulled in before I heard one final thing.

"Goodbye love, I hope this life treats you better than we did." His voice was a smooth again if not a little hoarse too. His anger was gone, as if it didn't exist in the first place. I had a feeling something was wrong. Fathers know their daughters best. That's what he'd said. I tried to pull away from the light to search for him but it was too late.

It didn't dawn on me that I had no idea what I had just unintentionally thrown myself into, but before I had time to ponder my choices, a man dressed in what looked to be scrubs and a surgical mask looked down at me before saying something I didn't understand. Was I in surgery? Did I survive? The light saturated into my eyes and all my senses flooded back all at once and I was soon overwhelmed with a flurry of sounds and textures – more than I could keep up with.

What's going on? I tried to ask, but whether I had asked it was lost on me. Like the tuning of a radio, I slowly regained my bearings as static noises and voices became clearer and clearer.

Crisp, clear sounds filled my ears.

They were unfamiliar voices, a vague mixture of both male and female. They spoke in a tongue which I wasn't fluent in, but I could recognise it as an Asian language. Chinese? Wait no… Japanese maybe? I'd had a few friends who were, and I had often walked into conversations mixed with their native tongue. They'd tried to teach me and I regret not taking them up on their offer.

"Omedetō, Shimizu-san!"

Omede- what?

I was about to question him but then he did something that I didn't agree to, or even understand at the time. He picked me up.

And that's where my thoughts stopped.

I could feel latex gloved hands on my body, and while I believed myself to be small, I was by no means small enough to be effortlessly lifted by some man. I fell silent for a moment as I tried to process this.

What the fuck is going on?

Am I small? Is he a titan? Too many thoughts ran through my mind and it didn't help but notice that I couldn't move. My paralysis only now dawning on me, I realised that I couldn't move my head and I think I could move my arms and legs but it's not like I could see them. I tried reaching out to whatever else surrounded me but I was only met with air.

Looking up at my captor, I only stared. He looked a little shocked but he seemed to be… smiling under his mask? Confusion was my name at this point because nothing made sense. Then, I got handed to a beautiful but exhausted woman and the pieces started to fall together.

She looked beat, but that did nothing to hinder her glow. I was staring up in amazement of her and her dark, almost deep violet hair and her piercing grey eyes. Her skin was flawless (if you excuse the odd red – but that appeared to be more of a blush than anything else) and her smile radiated warmth and happiness. Amongst my apparent admiration of the woman holding me, a man came into view. He looked worn, though not as much as the woman. He was a little plainer, but attractive nonetheless. He had leaned on the bed the woman was apparently on, an arm wrapping itself around the woman's shoulder. With tears pooling in his eyes, he kissed her temple before looking at me with an odd amount of adoration. Husband and wife. I wanted to assume they were anyway, I was always a romantic at heart and the sight warmed me.

It was at that point that I had noticed that the silence had broken and a light gurgle could be heard. I figured it could be a child, but where? It sounded close but I didn't see any children.

If they captured children…

I only shivered to think what they would do. These titan-like people looked human enough. I mean, more attractive than the normal ones I know, but that wasn't a difficult feat.

The gargling got louder and I wanted to turn my head, but I found that I couldn't. I wanted to try again, but to no avail. For whatever reason the only thing I could move were my pudgy little arms and-

-wait.

Wait.

I was small, yes, but pudgy was never a word I would associate myself with. Flailing my arms around again, I was in fact right, and I had pudgy little arms. The man had taken it upon himself to reach for me, assuming I was reaching for him, and I decided to humour him. Grabbing his index finger with my hand, I made a sudden realisation.

I could barely hold his entire finger in my hand.

I, was a baby.

Or, at least in the body of one. This certainly explained all the baby noises in the background. They were my baby noises. And my neck… Hell, babies can't even lift their heads. I was nothing more than a crying mesh of incomplete human. Someone else's incomplete human.

Did I seriously take the place of somebody's baby? I died, life didn't work like a videogame. Death meant death, we didn't have multiple lives. Life isn't fair enough to give us another chance.

I'm sure that if I had a mother, she wouldn't look like that. I had dark hair in my past life, but not in that beautiful a shade, nor with such shine. My eyes were nowhere near her smooth almond like ones, nor did I have pale pearly skin; mine was always a little olive.

(This surely broke a moral code, somewhere).

Where is there real baby now? Am I their baby? What was my previous life? Some sick trial run?

Am I even human?

He simply cooed at me as I gurgled back. Sure, it didn't sound positive, but it was better than crying. He smiled down at me, but this didn't soothe my looming existential crisis of very literally being born again.

The woman simply smiled at the scene before she said something else. A very short word, what I assumed it to be my name, judging by the man's nodding.

"Akane."

Akane. Sounded good. No idea what it meant, but I'm sure 'Aka' was a colour? They named me after a colour? Well, it was better than- than-

what was my old name?

"Akane-chan, ohayo!" My pseudo-mother called, in a delighted and high-pitched tone.

What did I look like before?

"Hai! Ohayo!" My pseudo-father followed, mimicking her tone.

Why can't I…

"Akane-chan?" She asked, looking deeply into my eyes. The look felt familiar but… it wasn't right.

Why can't I remember anything?

I remember a family. I had one before. A… mother? Grandmother?

I try to search deep in the crevices of my mind, but… I can't remember any names.

The memories were still there but the names and faces… they were just… gone.

I then feel a tugging deep in my stomach and a swirling of something terrible, sickly. Not the sickly 'I need to vomit' kind of sickly, but the sickly you feel when you know you've done something wrong. It's the same feeling I felt when I came home with my first 'F' as a child and my grandmother looked down at me with a vivid disappointment in her cloudy eyes.

Failure, her eyes said.

It was a practised look, and I can tell that perhaps, it was not the first time she's seen this before. Perhaps, she saw my mother in me, and that scared- no, terrified me. I didn't want to be like her.

My mother was bad.

…I think.

Why was she bad again?

The sensation churned deeply in my stomach, slowly spreading to my torso to the point I could feel myself slowly begin to tremble. This isn't right. I want it to be right, but I know.

The longer they stared at me the more the guilt dug deeper and deeper into my chest and apparently, my poor little baby body couldn't handle it. Before I know it, I start crying.

I began to wail loudly, louder than they've heard from me thus far – I even think my 'father' jumped when I began to flail, but my 'mother' quickly caught on and began to rock me.

This isn't my family.

While I was here revelling in the warmth of a new life, my old- previous- other family would be heading over to the hospital where my corpse was being held and they'd look down at my broken body. Their little girl reduced to nothing but wasted life. I can almost hear their hoarse voices screaming 'why?' to the heavens. I don't think they'd ever expected that I'd go before they did, to live long enough to see their only child/grandchild lying cold in a morgue.

My mother, my real one… well, I don't think she'd ever come to know. If she ever comes back from wherever she went to hoping to see me, she'll be welcomed with nothing more than empty apologies and a headstone.

And my father…?

My skin begins to crawl and a deep longing and agony fills me. I grow more and more disgusted with myself.

I – I was about to replace them.

My memories were slowly fading and piece by piece - everything I once was began to crumble in my mental hold. Like waves on a rocky shore, pieces of my previous life were stolen from me and I was powerless to stop it. I don't want to forget them! They were my family- I didn't ask for any of this! They raised me even if they didn't want to- they made me who I am!

THIS ISN'T FAIR.

Swinging my fresh limbs around as much as I could, I screamed and I screamed.

Screamed at the injustice and the unfairness, and in mourning of my lost life – the tragedy that I left behind.

I don't deserve this.

I screamed until I'd exhausted myself; my arms and legs aching in every muscle I could move, face still warm from the flood of tears. Slowly, my eyes began to shut, as I grew weary of my outburst. A soft song lulling me to sleep.

I'd never felt so ashamed to be alive.

-x-

It took me a long time to come to terms with my new existence. I refused to talk and eat, I refused to suckle some woman who I later had to accept to be my new mother. (I overcame that quickly when I realised how much hungrier babies became, it was embarrassing but a necessity if I wanted to stay alive).

(Not that I knew if I wanted to).

My new mother coddled me and sang to me, her bell like singing permeating through the halls and rooms of our home. As it turned out, she gave birth to me in their home, which was convenient as it meant she didn't have to travel far to get everything she needed – and by extension I didn't need to leave the room. Ever. It was odd to think that I hadn't left the room I was born in, being confined to the same four walls but it was home. And as the days passed I began to think.

Were they protecting me from whatever was out there? If so, what? Who?

What could strike fear in them so strongly that they wouldn't risk their new-born seeing the outside world?

Or maybe they were homebodies. I had no idea, but it was fun to ponder on the possibilities.

The only taste of the outside world that I could get was the small window to the left side of my cot. Situated at the foot of the bed, I was always under watchful eye of at least one of my parents. I could sometimes see the clouds poke into the frame as if to check on me, but that couldn't be the case. I watched as the sun set, and sometimes, If I woke up early enough, the sun rise. I never noticed how many colours the sky could be and how beautiful it was, but I guess I never noticed anything in my past life.

Those were the times I was most silent. When I was just admiring the world around me, I was quiet.

Amongst my time alone, I'd worked out a system that parents respond to. While I couldn't understand what they were saying, I knew I had to learn or otherwise be doomed to be a confused mess for the rest of my life. Of course, picking up a new language isn't done overnight, so whenever I heard them converse or even the sound of the television or radio play in the other rooms, I scrutinised every word, every sound and practiced in the scarce moments I was alone.

When I wasn't alone, I was still. Physically still, mentally still, just trying to think. But, a still baby isn't a normal baby. Babies cry and look for attention but most days I just laid there, vacant. My parents noticed this quickly and had a doctor check on me, but that only went as far as the first check-up.

I think they just concluded that their child was just weird, or at the least, special.

They just didn't know how to deal with it.

So, I made things a little easier on them and began to act a little more… normal. I began to cry when I was hungry, whined when I wanted attention and I would be fidgety when I wanted to be picked up. I didn't need words for a language, not yet. My little baby tongue couldn't handle the movements so I observed grammar and words, down to the sound. I tried to pick up the written language but when you're staring up at a ceiling for most of your first year alive; you don't pick up much. They welcomed this, accepting it as their baby finally warming up to them.

And besides, maybe being fussed over wasn't all that bad.

-x-

I was about one and a half when they decided it was okay for me to leave the room. Part of me was comforted by the four walls that became my home but my curiosity was stronger, so when they lifted me through the threshold, I was more than eager to explore this new world. We lived in a small apartment. Much smaller than the room I was first introduced to, and every room was plainer than the last. I was given the grand tour and nothing really stuck out to me. The kitchen, the living room, the bathroom. It was all so… normal. I hate to say that I was disappointed, that I'd expected my new life to be a little more exciting but it was dull. Mediocre. Normal.

We'd just turned the corner and we were met with three doors. To the left was the room which was effectively my hope for the past year, the right, the bathroom. But the one across – well that was a mystery.

Then came the last room.

The last one was pink. Not just any pink, a bright magenta. It was decorated with lights and pictures, posters lined the walls and there were even some drawings in some corners. The furniture matched the room too, bright pink dresser and a pink bedframe with matching sheets. The lamp, the toys, the curtains – everything was dyed some hue of pink and after a while it started to hurt my eyes. I resorted to burying my head into my mother's neck to hide from the feminine monstrosity but something else caught my attention.

A little blob sat in a cot next to the window.

"Morning, Ri-chan! Mama and Akane-chan came to visit!" My mother said with glee as she strolled us over. Leaning over the edge, I saw a child. Maybe no older than myself, with a little tuft of deep violet hair tied up with a bow and matching baby onesie as me, it didn't take long for me to figure out who she was. Or at least, try to guess.

I have a sister?

After a year- and I only notice her now? Was she here the whole time? I've either lost my edge, or something isn't right because my mother was not pregnant. And whilst my new pseudo-sister looked like my mother she held no resemblance to my father at all. So, either she inherited everything from my mother or… is a cousin. And though I hadn't seen hide nor hair of any other relatives, they could still exist. Of course, I could be completely wrong and maybe my mother was pregnant… but then why didn't I notice? Why didn't they say anything?

Nothing made sense, but it seemed like the new family member had drawn her own conclusions. She didn't like me.

Great.

I'd like to think I was thinking out of pure objectivity, but the look in her eyes when she saw me was not a good one. She didn't like me. The way she tensed when her eyes reached mine, and the way her fist clenched lightly as she saw me clutch our mother's shirt told me I was overstepping my boundaries. It didn't take long for me to guess that she was the spoiled one out of us two- the favourite even. It looked like she was the type who got everything she wanted, her way, before she could even say a word. If her room didn't scream 'daddy's little princess', I didn't know what did.

But, she did only just meet me. Maybe… she'll be nice?

-x-

(I was wrong.

She was never nice.

Onee-chan was always a selfish liar.)

-x-

It wasn't until I started eating solid foods that I started noticing that we were weird. Or maybe it was just me, but I'm sure toddlers aren't fed raw meat. It tasted amazing so I wasn't sure if it really was just raw meat. I had no clue whether it was a dietary thing either, but I hadn't seen anything green in our kitchen when I'd been taken around the house- oh and another thing I'd noticed. At the age of 3 I had yet to leave the house. Not once was I able to go further than my windowsill, and the door was off limits.

They're either helicopter parents or just plain paranoid. I didn't mind, but that didn't mean I was never curious about the outside.

Other than that though, our lives ran on a clock. At 8am we'd wake up and get ready, at 8:30 we'd have breakfast and kiss papa goodbye, then spend the rest of the day at home with mama who did the housework and played with us. Sometimes she'd read sometimes we'd play games, though when she was busy I'd engross myself in whatever book I could get my hands on for the day and Ri-chan would be off playing with her dolls. Then, papa would return at 6pm, we'd play together and have dinner at 7 then sleep at 9. Shower, rinse, repeat. That was our life. And it was sweet.

But, it was lonely.

Ri-chan noticed it too, but she wasn't very much for talking with me. She was haughty and demanded attention, attention that she receives enough from our parents. What's the point if she just sees me as an obstacle for their love, right?

It's a terrible idea, I know I should try to build on whatever sibling bond we should have, but there was something… off about her.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but onee-chan always looked so… I don't know how else to put it but…hungry.

Either for that glorious meat thing they always fed us or if it was for attention, I just don't know but she was never happy with what we had. I had lived a life before so I knew that these would be the easiest years of my life but she didn't know that.

I could see by the way her eyes sparkled at the door frame to our little apartment that she wanted more. What scared me was the ominous sparkle her eyes held when they turned to me.

Onee-chan is a troublemaker.

-x-

One day, she thought it would be a great idea to sneak outside. And the bumbling idiot I was, had decided to follow her.

It was a rare moment when she'd come to me of her own accord, since she usually happy in her own world. So, in a pleasantly surprised mood, I agreed to whatever she proposed. Maybe onee-chan is starting to warm up to me, I thought. I don't remember if I had siblings or not (leaning towards not) so companionship was something I was very open to.

"Akane-chan, Hurry! Mama gonna see!" She quietly yelled, pulling me along by my wrist. Mama had gone outside to put up the laundry on our balcony and left the front door unlocked for papa. Something she often did, but something Ri-chan had only spotted today and decided to make full use of.

Onee-chan was older than me, but not by much to my surprise. Less than a year, but you wouldn't be able to tell since she was already taller than me. And she was much bossier, so what she says, goes. Not that I was complaining.

Pulling over a small stool by the kitchen, she let go of my hand as plopped it in front of the door. Climbing on and pulling the metal handle down, the door opened with a click and light from the outside poured in.

I stood in wonder as I finally saw the great outdoors, even if it was just the concrete and metal bars of an apartment complex. Ri-chan was amazed as well, her chubby little face brightening up momentarily before she became determined once more. She jumped down and without a moment's notice had dragged me through the threshold.

We were free.

It smelled so good outside, so fresh and crisp, the sun was poking through clouds and the day was bright. It was perfect.

We were happily running along the little corridor, the little pit patter of our feet echoing through the hall as we made our way to the stairs. We hadn't even bothered to look at the other apartments, they were all shut anyway. Besides, something else caught our interest. Past the bars we saw across the concrete road was a park. Slides and swings galore like we'd seen on our shows on TV and in some of the picture books.

(A little part of my head told me to turn back but I ignored it, I'm a child they can forgive me).

(There was no way I was turning my back on some needed sister time).

"Akane-chan, we go there!" She asked, though it came off as more of a demand. I nodded, figuring mama wouldn't mind if we came back before she noticed.

Rushing down the spiral stairs hand in hand, down three flights, had reached the road. It was empty, oddly so, for what looked to be a normal day, but that made things easier for us.

But, just as we touched the end of the small path leading up to it, we heard a familiar shrill voice.

"Akane-chan?! Rize-chan! Where are you?!"

Uh-oh.

I looked at onee-chan. It only took her a moment to process the situation, we were so close to our goal but mama was calling. She looked at me before she looked up at where mamas voice came from. She let go of my hand like it burned her and in my confusion, had pushed me to the pavement, my hands and elbows scraping as I fell and small rocks dug into my knees. I could feel tears prick my eyes and a fearful uncertainty spread through me.

"Ri-chan?" I questioned, not quite understanding. She glanced behind as she walked, looking at my small crumpled form on the ground. She stared, then she giggled.

Are you kidding me?

It was a quiet giggle, but it felt so loud in my ears. It was humiliating.

She turned back, no longer sparing a glance as I saw her race up the stairs. Anger flared a deep crimson within me. Pushing myself onto my feet, I didn't even bother dusting myself off as I followed, ignoring the stinging of my wounds or the blood that coated my hands, ready to give that brat a piece of my mind-

But when I reached the top of the staircase, I saw my mama. Next to her, I saw Ri-chan holding her hand, crocodile tears marring her face.

"Akane-chan opened the door mama!" She said, pointing at me with a distressed look on her face. "Akane-chan made me go mama! She did!"

Mama knelt, pulling her into a hug before carrying her up and holding her on her hip, rubbing Ri-chans back as she calmed down. When she looked at me, her eyes said it all.

Anger, disappointment and sadness. Mama believed her, and I'm the one who was injured?

"But mama-!" I tried to argue but the narrowing of her eyes said it all. Stop, I know it was you. Don't make it worse for yourself.

The coldness in her eyes prevented me from speaking.

I didn't do anything wrong mama!

I sniffled, she stared.

Stupid.

Adults are stupid.

I berated myself. I should've known! Clenching my fist, I looked down, trying to ignore the tears pooling in my eyes as they spilled forth and hit the floor beneath. Of course, she'd believe her! I bit my lip in anger refusing to cry out.

I rubbed my eyes, refusing to look even more pathetic than I'd already looked.

"Come inside, Akane-chan." Was all she said before she turned, to walk back inside. Silent anger lacing her voice.

What annoyed me the most though, was not my mother's clear favouritism but when she'd turned, Ri-chan had looked over her shoulder and with a disgustingly smug look on her face had raised her little hand, moving it to look like she was dusting off the air in front of her.

She was telling me to shoo.

That was when it clicked. Ri-chan never saw me as a sister.

She saw me as a pest. Vermin that wandered into her home.

I hate you. My eyes told, but they weren't received.

She didn't care. She was the favourite. She didn't need me. The way she buried her head into the crook of mama's neck as she disappeared into our home told me she was just a child I should forgive her, but so was I. I was a child too.

I would make her see me.

I would make them all see me.

It sparked my drive; I want to win against onee-chan.

I want to win no matter the cost.

-x-

When papa returned home that day, mama told him.

Expectedly, he was mad.

They wouldn't leave the door unlocked ever again.

They took my books away.

Ri-chan giggled behind her dolls as my tears began to fall.

(Stupid fucking adults).

My drive grew.

-x-

We didn't see the outside again until we were six years old. A couple of years had passed since that time, but it wasn't forgotten. I never understood why, and they never answered when I asked.

No, I found out why when we went to elementary school for the first time.

Surprise surprise, Ri-chan made all the friends, I… didn't. But I didn't mind the isolation after being used to it for so long. I was smarter.

It didn't matter how many friends she had, I was the one teachers sang praise about, not her. So, I didn't care about not having friends.

Teachers found it odd, but if I proved to be a good budding student, they didn't mind.

Papa walked us to and from school every day, clutching both of our hands tightly. He wearily waved goodbye as we disappeared past the gates, we both entered together, but once he disappeared we diverged paths completely.

She made her distaste of me known after that time too, going out of her way to annoy me, even get me into trouble but that didn't deter me.

I had a goal to reach.

But, one interesting little thing that I did learn was that we weren't normal.

I wasn't sure if Ri-chan knew yet, but I knew.

We couldn't eat normal food. When the teachers handed us snacks, it would taste so bad that I'd had to claw at my tongue to get rid of the abhorrent taste. Our parents explained it as sensitive tongues, an allergy to certain foods which is why our lunches and snacks were always packed.

But another thing I noticed was that we were physically better than other kids. Not just faster, but stronger and we tired less often. It put myself and Ri-chan at odds when we played games in PE but the extra competition wasn't bad.

We weren't normal, and maybe that was why they didn't want us leaving the house. They were protecting us.

Our parents wanted to protect us. It gave a warmth in my heart and I could never fault that.

I didn't know what we were, but we were something special.

And if there's something that I know is a constant in both of my lives, it's that people will take 'special' things away.


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Posted: 16/02/17 Edited: 1/2/18