I'm sorry I made you cry and gave her cancer! It made me cry, too! On another note, Wanda's birthday is actually Martin Luther King Jr. Day here in the U.S (not by accident, I wanted her birthday to be kind of special) Later in the chapter, a few years will pass so they'll all be older. Here you go with chapter 7!
Wanda POV
When we pull into Ian's driveway, I hop out and run into my house, using the spare key under the doormat to get in. I hear them screaming at me, but I can't talk to anyone. I shut the door behind me and look around. I shiver and rub my hands up and down my arms.
"Mom. I'm home," I whisper as I slowly walk upstairs. I open her door, half expecting to see her sitting with a book there. I shake my head. She can't read a book in bed anymore. She's gone. I walk over to her bed. I run my hand over the grey covers. They're the same color of our eyes. I feel tears sting my eyes, but wipe my eyes before they can fall again. I pull myself onto the bed, rolling over on my back and letting my feet hang off the bed. I turn my head to the right so I can see the wall. Her huge calendar is still on the wall. I can see the day on it. January 20, my birthday. My birthday is today. My mom died on my birthday. I wipe more tears away. Think happy thoughts.
I'm now 7 years old today. I smile through the tears that are falling again. I feel much stronger and braver. My smile fades as I stand up and walk into the closet. I need to smell her again. I open the door and I smell vanilla with a hint of coconut. I thought I heard footsteps. I sit in the bottom of the closet and close the door.
"Wanda?" I hear Ian yell. His voice echoes throughout the empty house. I stay silent as I rest my forehead on my knees. "Wanda?" I hear him yell again. I close my eyes, welcoming the dark that fits my mood. I hear some movement and feel a presence in front of me as the closet door opens. I hear him sigh. "Wanda," He moves around again and moves some things away from me, sitting right beside me, closing the door again. I don't move, don't look up, don't say anything. We just sit together. He lets me cry, not saying a word. After a while, I stop crying and feel soar so I lift my head and turn towards him. He's staring at the door in front of us. "I'm so sorry, Wanda," I take his hand and squeeze. He looks over at me and I smile a sad smile. It's my birthday. We're still having my party if you want to still go," He smiles, but I can see the sadness in his face and eyes.
"Anything for you,"
~Line Break~
Six Years Later
"Wanderer?" My blood turns to ice when I hear my real name come from my dad. My mom didn't even call me that after Ian nicknamed me. I don't like it. I don't answer. "Wanderer. You need to come down here right now," His voice is cold. I refuse to speak or move. I will not answer to my real name. My name isn't Wanderer, its Wanda. It might be smart to go to him, but he doesn't need me. I know this because he's told me. That was when he threw a vase at me. I had to get 165 stitches in my right arm. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. I start to get nervous, but wait a few seconds, letting my mom's sent protect me for a few more seconds before I stand up and walking out of the closet, my refuge. Once I close the door, my dad comes into the room. He looks stiff, angry again. He reaches his hand out to me. I don't take it.
"What do you want?" I ask as politely as I can, for my mom's sake. She would want me to be polite, even through my irritation. His hand closes into a hard fist. I don't flinch. I stare him in the eye, but I know he knows I'm scared deep down, whether I show it or not.
"I'm sending you to the orphanage that I mentioned before your mother died," I hold in my tears and sobs. I hate it when he talks about her. He didn't love her like I do. To me, she's with me every day, watching and waiting to make me feel safer. I used to believe that her spirit lived in her closet. I still go in there and close my eyes, remembering when I first came here.
"Why? Had enough of the 'unbearable torture' that you have to 'deal with' while I live with you?" His jaw clentches has he slaps his hand across my face again. It stings, but it's nothing I haven't felt before. "I don't have to take this!" I scream at him as he stomps towards the door. "You know, I could have left, ran away, YEARS AGO! But I didn't! You know why?!" I shout. He stops and turns around slowly.
"So you could eat, live, have a life," His voice starts to gradually get louder. "So you didn't have to become a hobo, or a prostitute. Why else would you stay!" I flinch at his incorrectness. He doesn't know about the money, the job. Nothing.
"I didn't leave because I know how much Mom loved you. I knew it would mean a lot to her if I lived with you. But I don't want to stay here anymore. She thought that you had changed, but you still have it in you to hurt and kill if you want to bad enough. And I'm not ready to die just yet," I walk past him to my room. I slam the door and lock it behind me. I turn around and go to my closet, pulling out my suitcase and Nike drawstring bag I bought a few months back. I take all the clothes out of my closet and drawers, folding and putting them in the suitcase. I put my pair of Toms, pair of Uggs, and two pairs of Chuck Norris shoes in my drawstring Nike bag. I zip up my suitcase and turn to unlock my door when I look at myself in the mirror.
My long blonde hair is hiding most of my face, which is hard and cold-looking with anger and frustration. I clear my face of emotion as I continue to look at myself. My fitted Flyleaf T-shirt looks too long, even though it's a small. My boot-cut jeans fit perfectly over my buckled grey boots. I look back at my face and swear I see my mom for a second.
My dad is standing on the other side. I push him out of the way, debating whether or not I should stomp on him with my boots, but decide against it. I don't need more scars. I go up to the front door and look behind me. The house doesn't look like home anymore. My mom made it much prettier, more homey. My dad ran from around the wall to see me. I narrow my eyes.
"I'm going to the orphanage right now. I can't stay here another night," I open the door, stomp out, and slam the door. I hear him yell so I start to run hard. I get across the street to Ian's house and bang on the door. Ian answers and I run inside, tossing my things on the couch. He shuts the door.
"Lock it. He's coming," I hear him lock the door as I pant on the couch. He comes over to sit on the couch beside me, putting his arm around my shoulders as I calm down. Once my breathing goes back to normal, I start telling Ian about the latest incident.
"So you're refusing to go to the places away from here. You're going to stay here, right?" I nod, grinning.
"Of course. Why would I want to leave his behind?" He relaxes and we sit there, watching the TV where one of the greatest movies are on, "The Breakfast Club." The final line comes on.
"Does that answer your question? Sincerely, The Breakfast Club," and then the music starts to play and we're silent as we listen to the music play and the credits roll. There's a banging on the door that makes us jump. I pick up my bags and run into the kitchen as Ian opens the door.
"Where is she?" I hear my dad shout. Silence. "WHERE IS SHE?!"
"I don't know, sir," Ian says.
"I saw her run here," Silence again. "I SAW her run IN HERE!" I hear a thud, a crash. "And you're going to tell me where…she…is,"
Ian POV
Please, Wanda, just stay in the kitchen. Don't come in here, stay in there where you're safe. Of course, that's when Wanda comes in here. Seth lets go of me and I fall into the table again, but don't fall. He walks over to Wanda like a predator stalking its prey. I shake my head.
"Run, Wanda!" I say. She breaks out of her frozen stance and runs into the kitchen. Seth curses and runs in after her. I hear a door slam before he makes it into the kitchen. I text my mom, telling her I'll be back in a while, and run out the door after them. I see Wanda's flash of blonde hair running into the woods. And a flashlight running after her. As I get closer, I see Seth is holding something in his other hand, but I'm too far away to see what it is clearly. I try to get closer, but they're too far away. I push myself faster, trying to keep up and not lose them in the woods. I just hope that I can find my way back out of the woods. I get to the woods, not stopping to consider the roots on the ground. My only concern is Wanda and where she is. I start to get closer to Seth, which means I'm closer to Wanda. I push myself faster than I've ever went before. I get right on his heels almost, but then his flashlight shines on his other hand.
A knife.
That's when something grabs me from behind. I feel a tiny hand cover my mouth and immediately thank God that it's Wanda. I turn around and she lets go of me. But I wrap my arms round her, making sure that she's ok. She presses her cheek to my chest and I feel like we're in our own little bubble, separate from the world and surrounded by our happiness. I pull back and take her hand. We smile at each other as we run the other way, back towards my house.