Chapter 12
Book two, chapter 1.
This may not make sense now, but it will soon, in the next chapter, I promise!
Note to disclaimers: Me no own.
Saini covered her younger brother, Mohan, protectively. She was curled up in a corner of a building, somewhere along the streets of India. It wasn't safe, but Saini was swift and careful. Not much of a reasurrance, not much at all, but all that mattered was they weren't caught yet.
It was too dangerous living in India, ever since her mother and father passed away. Her father had went away once, but had never returned. Saini's mother, Parvati, had gone into a state of depression. It didn't help that they had no place to live, no relatives to go to, and virtually nothing. Parvati hated going into prostitution, but it was the only way she could raise money for her two small children. It embarrased her, and she felt that this would greatly affect Saini's future. She feared that Saini might allow men to abuse her, and force into marriage, like legalized rape. She was lucky. Parvati herself had found a loving mate, and even though he was in charge, Sudhir was never rude or abusive. He was a wonderful father, a caring husband, and a pleasure each day. Saini remembered her mother in the bedroom, one day after Sudhir died.
"This isn't how I wanted life to turn out," Parvati dried the tears she didn't know Saini had seen.
Saini looked up into the brown eyes of her mother, not sure of what to say. She hadn't wanted it this way either. She wanted her dady back. It wasn't fair that he had gone away. Where was he?
One day, Saini walked home from the market. It was dangerous, but Parvati was at "work" and they needed food. This was Saini's secret. She would never let her mother know she had gone somewhere alone. Only a child, and a girl child. It wasn't safe, no matter how young, there were crazies, who raped. Saini shuddered at the thought of being pregnant without a husband.
She approached the door to their tiny appartement that her mother had gotten with the 'dirty' money. That's what she had called it, because she hated it, but needed it. Forcing herself to do grotesque things for it.
She heard two men talking to each other inside it. Saini froze, why were there men in there? Hadn't Mommy's man just been leaving? Their voices were low and gruff.
"It must have been a knife, look at the blood. There's even a slit mark in her body,"
"She have any family?"
"Na, no husband, two kids. They aren't here though. Don't know where the rascals are."
Saini didn't want to hear anymore. She had heard enough. Her mother was dead.
It had taken her a year to find her last relative, but she had never found her real brother back. Mohan was her blood-brother, but he wasn't her spirit-brother. He had changed. He didn't laughed anymore, and whenever he looked at someone, he looked so tired and sad that it broke their hearts, too. Mohan had changed.
But there were too many others like them. There were too many abused women and men, homeless, and children, searching. Things were being done, but there wasn't enough. Like giving food to one of twelve people. Like sparing change to one of a hundred beggars. Like caring about one in a million. Busy people passed carelessly, like they were too imporatant to care about certain little kids who didn't have their mothers anywhere.
Saini had one friend in all this hurried confusion. She had sen a poster for him by the book store. She had only seen him that way once, when she was looking for Mohan. She didn't know why he had come to visit her, or why she saw him. All she knew was that he appeared a lot, whenever he wasn't busy. She supposed he had a lot of other kids to visit, to help.
She remembered the first time she had saw him, his face on that poster.
"He has a book written bout him? Huh, he must be important. Important and rich. Too important to care about me... just a little child, just another girl...." she smirked angrily. She hated rich and and important people.
"But I'm not."
It was a clear voice, but it was English. Not Indian, like she was used to. There were many English people where she was, but it shocked her to see on right infront of her. And what scared her most was it was a boy.
Males couldn't be trusted. Her father and her brother were the only good ones. The officers had been mean, they hadn't cared. Males had probably killed her mother. Males had given her mother dirty money. Everyday her mother worried about the women being abused by males. They were bad.
"Go away," she said ferociosly.
He smiled.
"I can help."
In the city, not in India, but back in North America, a notebook blew it's pages about in the wind coming from the half-open window. If you had been able to read it, you would have seen this:
MY DREAMS:
-Current questions:
-Why am I dreaming this?
-How does he know them?
-What does this mean?
STORIES:
-Anna lives in Germany. Her mother and father work a lot during the day and night. They don't spend as much time together as they'd all like to. But Anna always comes home to her grandfather. Last month he was diagnosed with cancer. Anna needs someone for comfort.
Harry comes to her.
-Marvin is thirteen, and lives in Spain with his Concheata (God-mother) ever since his parents died. He loves her dearly, and doesn't want to leave her, but now there are some misinterpretations with the will, and he might be taken away from her.
Harry comes to him.
-Mathew lives with his mother in New York. His father was arrested for illegal possesion of drugs and he spends time in prison as punnishement. Mathew is only seven years old, and doesn't understand completely why Daddy is never at home.
Harry comes to him.
-Ria lives in a poor ghetto comunity where there always seems to be trouble. She and her mother live alone, and there's always drugs, pregnancy, and police intervention worrying them. Her mother had her at age sixteen, and she has no idea where the father is. Ria's grandparents won't have anything to do with their daughter, and people always assume she's a drug dealer because her mother used to be a stripper. Ria feels sad and alone.
And Harry comes to her.
Hi, I know it was a short chapter, and I know you may not get it, but I hope you liked it. It will all make more sense soon. Merry Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanza, Ramazan!
Book two, chapter 1.
This may not make sense now, but it will soon, in the next chapter, I promise!
Note to disclaimers: Me no own.
Saini covered her younger brother, Mohan, protectively. She was curled up in a corner of a building, somewhere along the streets of India. It wasn't safe, but Saini was swift and careful. Not much of a reasurrance, not much at all, but all that mattered was they weren't caught yet.
It was too dangerous living in India, ever since her mother and father passed away. Her father had went away once, but had never returned. Saini's mother, Parvati, had gone into a state of depression. It didn't help that they had no place to live, no relatives to go to, and virtually nothing. Parvati hated going into prostitution, but it was the only way she could raise money for her two small children. It embarrased her, and she felt that this would greatly affect Saini's future. She feared that Saini might allow men to abuse her, and force into marriage, like legalized rape. She was lucky. Parvati herself had found a loving mate, and even though he was in charge, Sudhir was never rude or abusive. He was a wonderful father, a caring husband, and a pleasure each day. Saini remembered her mother in the bedroom, one day after Sudhir died.
"This isn't how I wanted life to turn out," Parvati dried the tears she didn't know Saini had seen.
Saini looked up into the brown eyes of her mother, not sure of what to say. She hadn't wanted it this way either. She wanted her dady back. It wasn't fair that he had gone away. Where was he?
One day, Saini walked home from the market. It was dangerous, but Parvati was at "work" and they needed food. This was Saini's secret. She would never let her mother know she had gone somewhere alone. Only a child, and a girl child. It wasn't safe, no matter how young, there were crazies, who raped. Saini shuddered at the thought of being pregnant without a husband.
She approached the door to their tiny appartement that her mother had gotten with the 'dirty' money. That's what she had called it, because she hated it, but needed it. Forcing herself to do grotesque things for it.
She heard two men talking to each other inside it. Saini froze, why were there men in there? Hadn't Mommy's man just been leaving? Their voices were low and gruff.
"It must have been a knife, look at the blood. There's even a slit mark in her body,"
"She have any family?"
"Na, no husband, two kids. They aren't here though. Don't know where the rascals are."
Saini didn't want to hear anymore. She had heard enough. Her mother was dead.
It had taken her a year to find her last relative, but she had never found her real brother back. Mohan was her blood-brother, but he wasn't her spirit-brother. He had changed. He didn't laughed anymore, and whenever he looked at someone, he looked so tired and sad that it broke their hearts, too. Mohan had changed.
But there were too many others like them. There were too many abused women and men, homeless, and children, searching. Things were being done, but there wasn't enough. Like giving food to one of twelve people. Like sparing change to one of a hundred beggars. Like caring about one in a million. Busy people passed carelessly, like they were too imporatant to care about certain little kids who didn't have their mothers anywhere.
Saini had one friend in all this hurried confusion. She had sen a poster for him by the book store. She had only seen him that way once, when she was looking for Mohan. She didn't know why he had come to visit her, or why she saw him. All she knew was that he appeared a lot, whenever he wasn't busy. She supposed he had a lot of other kids to visit, to help.
She remembered the first time she had saw him, his face on that poster.
"He has a book written bout him? Huh, he must be important. Important and rich. Too important to care about me... just a little child, just another girl...." she smirked angrily. She hated rich and and important people.
"But I'm not."
It was a clear voice, but it was English. Not Indian, like she was used to. There were many English people where she was, but it shocked her to see on right infront of her. And what scared her most was it was a boy.
Males couldn't be trusted. Her father and her brother were the only good ones. The officers had been mean, they hadn't cared. Males had probably killed her mother. Males had given her mother dirty money. Everyday her mother worried about the women being abused by males. They were bad.
"Go away," she said ferociosly.
He smiled.
"I can help."
In the city, not in India, but back in North America, a notebook blew it's pages about in the wind coming from the half-open window. If you had been able to read it, you would have seen this:
MY DREAMS:
-Current questions:
-Why am I dreaming this?
-How does he know them?
-What does this mean?
STORIES:
-Anna lives in Germany. Her mother and father work a lot during the day and night. They don't spend as much time together as they'd all like to. But Anna always comes home to her grandfather. Last month he was diagnosed with cancer. Anna needs someone for comfort.
Harry comes to her.
-Marvin is thirteen, and lives in Spain with his Concheata (God-mother) ever since his parents died. He loves her dearly, and doesn't want to leave her, but now there are some misinterpretations with the will, and he might be taken away from her.
Harry comes to him.
-Mathew lives with his mother in New York. His father was arrested for illegal possesion of drugs and he spends time in prison as punnishement. Mathew is only seven years old, and doesn't understand completely why Daddy is never at home.
Harry comes to him.
-Ria lives in a poor ghetto comunity where there always seems to be trouble. She and her mother live alone, and there's always drugs, pregnancy, and police intervention worrying them. Her mother had her at age sixteen, and she has no idea where the father is. Ria's grandparents won't have anything to do with their daughter, and people always assume she's a drug dealer because her mother used to be a stripper. Ria feels sad and alone.
And Harry comes to her.
Hi, I know it was a short chapter, and I know you may not get it, but I hope you liked it. It will all make more sense soon. Merry Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanza, Ramazan!