Here's the first chapter of Voice. The prologue was really short, so I'm sorry about that. Please vote in my poll on my profile and R&R! -Lisa/fieryhazel
Disclaimer: I. Don't. Own. All Gakuen Alice rights reserved by Higuchi Tachibana, though he/she should be glad that we like him/her this much!
I hated them.
My siblings were all so selfish and greedy. My father, too. Even though our family is a lot wealthier than the average Japanese family, they've always wanted more. They've abused the butlers and maids in my mansion, threatened their families, and worked them to the bone. If my family even found the tiniest speckle of dust on the floor, they broke a few of our antique vases and made an even bigger mess out of it.
My father had yellow teeth from smoking crack. The police in Tokyo aren't so great, so he bribed them into letting him, using money. He had oily hair from being too lazy to shower more than once per week. His light brown eyes were too narrow, his nose too crooked, and his lips too fat. He had a beard growing on his chin and two golden nose rings. In short, he was filthy and hideous, but females flocked to him for his money.
My mother was different, though. They loved her, because she was warm and welcoming. She even tried to help some of our servants' and maids' families in their economic situations. Since most of our workers were poor and badly fed, she tried to offer their families some money from time to time. Some, who had no choice to accept, would leave the mansion to look for a new job and eventually return to pay her back, while others would refuse.
I don't know how my father even deserved her. She came from an extremely rich family and was the heir to the fourth most successful business in Japan.
But one day, she told me about the company burning down.
She recalls that it was a busy day. There were thousands of workers inside the building. She was still young, being nine-years old, when the incident had occurred.
She was getting a ride to the main business building of her father's company. It was around 8 o'clock in the morning, and she was chatting to the limo driver. She said that he was a very gentle and kind person, loved his warm personality and open-mindedness. He was only eighteen years old, but acted like a child.
The driver told her that if she wouldn't stop making him laugh, he would sell her off to a barn and make her feed the pigs. Knowing that he was just playing around with her, she answered, "Well, if I take over my dad's company, I'd be the one who'd be able to sell you off to a barn, wouldn't I?"
His laugh was light and carefree. "If you don't stop this, you'll never get to sell me off. I'll crash, and you'd have to pay for the limo and the hospital fees." He replied. But of course, they didn't get into a car crash. After a few more exchanges of words and replies, she fell asleep.
She was woken up by the heat. My mother remembers this painfully clearly. The driver was pressing down on the brakes not long after she was awake. A fairly large number of automobiles were in front of them, causing traffic around her father's company building. She could hardly make out the pylons and, ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks surrounding it. But she could easily see the smoke.
Fire. She was old enough to understand what this meant. Many injuries. Even some deaths.
She rushed out of the limo, ignoring the driver's shouts of protest. She ignored the pylons, signs, and banners. Even the policemen, paramedics, and firefighters. But they still took notice of her.
They pulled her back a fraction of a second before she could reach the fire. One more step and she'd be toast. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her vision was blurry. She cried out for her parents. She knew that they would be inside. She knew that they could never step outside again.
When the fire was put out, most of the building was charcoal black. Nothing remained of the lobby, not the comfortable mini-sofas left beside each office that she loved to climb on, not her father's office. Even her family picture was half in shreds.
She cried for a long time. After three weeks, the police got impatient and decided to tell her their plans for her. She was to live with her fiancée, and when she was of age, she was to marry him. Of course, this wasn't legally supposed to be forced on her, but her parents hadn't made a will. All she was left to work with was her mansion and money.
I loved my mother. Most humans would be corrupted by pasts like hers, but she's still so pure. She's the only one that I could trust, as I am to her. She actually dislikes my father. She pities my siblings and blames my father for pampering them. I always laugh when she tells me that they've inherited my father's 'virtues'.
But I really do. Hate them, that is. Because of my father, she's in a hospital.
I was closing the gates when she was trying to give a cheque to one of our maids. I could hear him from outside when he swore at her and put down her mother and father. I opened the door just in time to see my mother tumbling down the stairs.
So here I am, in the hospital corridors.
I was almost at my mother's room when I accidentally knocked down a little vase. As I bent down to reach for it, I could make out parts of a conversation in a room adjacent to my mother's going on.
"…parents died…"
"…hurt them…"
"…aunt…"
What in the world was going on? I took a quick glance in the room. Two female nurses were gossiping. One had long red hair in a ponytail, and the other had dark brown hair in a boyish cut, facing towards my direction, so I could make out two olive green eyes, a strong nose, and narrow lips. She also had a blue dragon tattoo stretching across the side of her neck. I remember her from the front desk. I think she was head nurse or something. Her eyes flickered in my direction for a second, but then turned away.
Was that…guilt on her face?
She probably just didn't want to be caught gossiping. After all, a patient's past is personal, and she could get fired for this. Anyways, to the right of the nurses was a white bed.
On it, I caught sight of her.
She was probably around my age, but a little younger looking. She wasn't tall and didn't look like she ate much, with light brown hair, that reached just above her elbow by an inch, that she let down. Her eyes were huge, but there was something in it that didn't make her look so cute. She looked wise beyond her years, like she had lived independently her whole life. Yet, she looked warm and kind-hearted.
She was staring out the window, but her eyes met mine for a bit. Maybe she sensed my gaze on her. I'll bet she saw my cheeks flush a light tint of red. I turned away and kept walking.
I wanted to get to know her. I wanted to know about what she thinks about during her free time, who she cares about, and about her past. I wanted to know everything about her. Even about the most childish side of her. Everything.
I made a turn into my mother's room.
Is it alright? Again, please vote in my poll and click the button! You know you want to.
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