Chapter 2: "The Voice Within"
Young girl don't cry,
I'll be right there when your world starts to fall
Young girl it's alright,
Your tears will dry, you'll soon be free to fly
It's been six years now and here I am again, locked up in my room, crying to myself like a baby. But it doesn't matter, anyway. They all know that I always cry. And no one cares. No one gives a shit about me. And I am used to it. Always like this, crying and crying. And that's the only way I could release myself from the painful grip of the past. A voice, so vaguely familiar, echoes in my mind. The voice keeps on repeating that it will never leave me, that it will always be on my side, guiding me. And it somehow soothed my raging emotions. At least it gave me a spark of hope that someday, all of these would end. That is, if there is still a someday...
When you're safe inside your room you tend to dream
Of a place where nothing's harder than it seems
No one ever wants to bother to explain
Of the heartache life can bring and what it means
I looked around my room. Every piece of decoration was what a girl could ever dream of. And I smiled. I had always liked this room for that reason. Everything in here is what I exactly wanted it to be. This is my sanctuary, the place I run to whenever I feel alone. The place in which I celebrate my moments of triumph most...alone. The place that had seen all of me. I don't know, but every time we go to long trips, I would surely miss the warmth of this room. Maybe because it had been a great part of my life. Maybe because, it was meant to exist in order to help me overcome my trials in life.
I looked outside the window. Somehow, looking at the marvelous scenery outside, bathed in the glorious rays of the sun, made me feel much better. What if...what if I were born to different parents? Would it make any difference? I would be very grateful to have a different father...a kinder, much gentler one. Yes, we might not be as rich as now...but come to think of it...when you'd come home every afternoon from school, no curses would greet you after a grueling school day, no slaps would redden your cheek, no sobs escaping from the lips of your mother. And we will play, and study, and rest all together in the warmth of a home, so much different, so much better from the cold, air-conditioned rooms of our mansion. The mere thought of it made me smile, a rare kind of smile that wasn't seen on my face for quite a long while.
My mother...how I love her so much. Until now, despite of what she had done, I could still feel that I really do love her, that I miss her so much. I don't want to replace her for somebody else. For me, she is the ideal, perfect mom; she is everything a mother should be. Imagine loving a person who totally ruined your life, with never a thought of rage crossing your mind? Only my mother can do that. She had spent all her life devotedly to my father, always dutifully obeying his orders, trying to do her best in every little way; but was always repaid by such brutality when he's not pleased at her performance. But still, she held on courageously, in order to save the family that she had worked hard to build. She survived it all, she had taken it all in, she accepted her fate...yes she accepted it because she had thought that in that way, father would learn to love her back. But she was mistaken. Father did not feel anything for her; he just married her for the sake of money. Until she realized all of this. The courage she had kept alive in herself for my sake was slowly fading. In the end, she gave up the struggle. In the end, her weakness overcame her. In the end, she took her life. All of it ended in just a moment. All of it ended in the blink of an eye. All of it ended in just one slash of the cold metal of a knife. Why...why?
Why did all of this have to happen? Why do I have to suffer? Why...please, answer me...is the meaning of life like this? To suffer all your life and die bringing all your hardships with you even at your grave? Somebody, please listen! Please...help me understand...what all of these mean...why all of these happen...
When there's no one else look inside yourself
Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within
Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way
You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within
And now, I trust nobody but myself. Yes, because in the end, I will be all alone. Yet, I also owe this all to the voice inside myself...the voice which keeps guiding me...the voice that will never leave me. It had given me the will to thrive.
Who needs friends, anyway? You wouldn't know who are real and who aren't. Especially in my situation. With my reputation as the famed daughter of that damned Norstrard guy...you wouldn't know if they just want to befriend you in order to have the pleasure of being called as the best friend of the richest girl in town, and make you dish out some money for them. Or maybe they're just envious of you...their so green with envy at your fortune that they have the courage to stab you in the back for the pleasure of seeing you plummet down into the world of the "untouchables". You wouldn't know whom to trust. Sometimes, you'd have to disguise yourself in order to be suitable for their group. As for me, I didn't dare talk to my former friends about my situation. I was afraid that they're just going to spread the word around the school like fire. And they would be chanting mockeries and rants over and over again. And besides, they wouldn't listen just for the sake of listening...well, you know what I mean. So I just kept it all inside myself and listened to all of their nonsense chitchat of what's in and what's not. Who cares? If only they would be me, even just for a day, they'd surely be conscientious of what their doing to me. Or maybe, even pity me. Or worse, despise me and turn their back from me in disgust. Nobody else would fit into Neon's shoes. Only me.
Young girl don't hide
You'll never change if you just run away
Young girl just hold tight
Soon you're gonna see your brighter day
Ever since mother's death, father had stopped beating me, but he had grown cold, and has almost reached the point wherein he never talks to me. He thought that I will experience much more pain in that way. And he was right. Yeah, it was better this way, never feeling the heavy hands of your own father burning your cheeks with the sharp pain of rejection. But in the cold depths of the so-called silent treatment, you wouldn't know what the demon would do next. You wouldn't know what kind of conspiracy is forming in the back of his mind. It makes you think. And thinking brings out ill memories of the past. Thinking kills me.
There was a time when I was at the point of running away. I was sitting in one of the gazebos in our garden. It was my twelfth birthday. As usual, only our housekeepers greeted me. But there was no celebration. I was contemplating about many things, which made me fume inside. All of that until I felt a presence. That presence had sent surges of shivers down my back. I knew it. He has planned a new game for me to play. I heard his footsteps nearing me ever so slowly as if time had stopped. And then I felt a cold hand on my shoulder. I had enough of it. I stared at him in the eye. I heard myself hiss while brushing off his arm, "Well, what do you have in store for me this time, huh, demon? Just leave me alone!" He immediately backed off, apparently looking stunned for a second. It was the first time in years that I had fought back. Usually, it was the other way. I would only cry and keep silent. But things are different now. I had grown up. I had to fight. I won't let him take away what was left of me.
"What? You didn't hear what I said? I said, go to hell, you demon!" I said rather sarcastically with my hand placed on my waist. His surprised look was quickly replaced with a menacing look on his face, as if he were about to kill me. I saw at the corner of my eye his raised arm. He is going to hit me. But I'm not going to allow that. If he hurts me physically, then I'll pierce him with words he has not yet heard before. As his hand was about to strike my cheek, I cried out again, "Go ahead, slap me!" He paused in midair. "Why? Afraid to hurt me? Are you afraid to kill your daughter? But that's what you want to do before, don't you? Why, don't you have enough strength to do that?" He drew back his hand away from me and turned his back. He started to walk away. But that wasn't enough. I want to show him that I'm not a martyr like mother. I wanted to show him that I've grown up. I wanted to show me that I'm not yet giving up.
"Hey, go back here you jerk! You're nothing after all! You couldn't even bring yourself to kill your own daughter! Because you know that all of Mommy's money will go to me! And it also stated in her last will that if anything happens to me, all of her damned fortune will go to her charity works, leaving nothing to you. And your dream of dominating the black market would never be fulfilled..." I saw him freeze in his steps, so I continued. Besides, I kinda feel good about this. I feel quite relieved of my burden, speaking what is in your mind, letting it all out.
I smirked, "Who would've thought that Mother would be much shrewder than you? That goddamn bitch sure is a sly fox. H-hey, I'm still talking to you! Want to kill me, bastard? Go ahead! Kill me! Kill me! KILL ME!!!" I was cut off when he suddenly hit my face with the back of his hand. But I wasn't surprised. I didn't feel any pain, either. Anyway, I was already expecting all of this. And I don't care. I just want to die.
I felt his iron grip in my arm. "Get up, foul-mouthed bitch!" I forcefully dragged me towards the direction of our house. He kicked the doors wide open, which made the servants gasp. But they didn't do anything. I helplessly looked at them. Without me knowing it, my eyes gazed at them, as if I were pleading them to help me. Some looked away feeling guilty at not helping me. Others choked back a sob and returned at their work, afraid to arouse the anger of my father.
Eventually, he let go of me. I was relieved for the moment, but was too shocked to feel his hands taking hold of my pinkish locks. He pulled me by my hair. I refused to budge. He forcefully pulled me up the stairs. I could literally feel my scalp rip apart. I could feel him dragging me towards the direction of my room. But I didn't fight back. I just wish I would die...
He brutally pushed me to the bed. I will surely die...
I was expecting a punch, a slap, a kick, a curse, o-or anything that would leave me injured...
But nothing came.
Instead, I felt him pat my head and mutter, "You've grown very much like her." He turned away and left the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
I was startled. Me? Very much like...her? Who was he referring to? My mother? But I've never known Mother to stand up against him. She loved him too much to fight back. And that's the only thing I hate about her; she loved him too much to think of herself. Nevertheless, I don't care. I couldn't fight back, because the trauma of my early days make my courage falter. He still controls me. And if I couldn't do anything to stop him, then I will just run away. Running away is the only option. Or so I thought it was.
Now in a world where innocence is quickly claimed
It's so hard to stand your ground when you're so afraid
No one reaches out a hand for you to hold
When you look outside look inside to your soul
I've never experienced joy. In my whole life, all I experienced was anxiety. Even as a child, instead of playing outside and running around free, I was trapped inside these walls of falseness. I was never allowed to live like anyone else. I would always lock myself up in my room, never daring to venture outside; even within our mansion's grounds. I always feared that he is here, there...everywhere, anticipating my moves, always ready to pounce when nobody is around. As if he were some monster lurking in the dark. Of course that isn't true, but my fear of him had been etched in my core, and I can't just shake it away. My childish fears always seem to get hold of me. Until now, I kept imagining...and fearing what kind of monster I am living with.
I tried to escape, but to no avail. Once, I almost reached the gate, but...
I heard a voice. Yeah, it was that inner voice again. Telling me never to give up. But I fought it off. I was determined to run away from this horrible life. But there it was again. Saying that once I go outside that gateway, I would surely regret my deed. Yes, it will give you temporary happiness...a momentary feeling that you are free...but after that, what? You don't know much about the "outside world". You're not yet ready to face reality. There are other people who suffer more than you. You're luckier to have financial support unlike them.
So? What the hell do I care? Might as well live in poverty than to stay in this lavish hell.
And then it said, think about yourself. Running away isn't the only option. If you run away, will it do you any good? Will it improve your life? Will it erase the past? The only way to beat a ghost is to face it.
When there's no one else look inside yourself
Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within
Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way
You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within
But I was still stubborn. I'll just commit the atrocious crime of suicide, just like mother. I will put everything to an end. In death, there is no turning back. And I resolved that I will never regret running away. Never.
Life is a journey
It can take you anywhere you choose to go
But death is just another form of running away. Much worse. Because, yes, you can't reverse death...but will it make you happy? Well then, if you can't do it for yourself, then do it for your mother. Remember what you promised in her grave? You promised that you will live for her. You promised that you will fight the trials in your life. You promised that you will never give up.
As long as you're learning
You'll find all you'll ever need to know
I shrugged it all off. I thought, if mother were still alive, then she will allow me to run away. Maybe, she will even come with me. I looked around. I will surely miss this place...my childhood...what am I thinking? What am I going to miss in my childhood, anyway? My father's heavy hands? My mother's pitiful weeping?
(Be strong)
You'll break it
Remember...your mother held on that long for you...she didn't want you to suffer the same fate as hers...
(Hold on)
You'll make it
This is enough for me. I fell on my knees and cried. I couldn't help it. I thought that I had grown numb...stone cold of father's insulting treatment to me. But here I am, crying my heart out, again. My tears never seem to cease flowing.
(Hold on)
Just don't forsake it because
No one can tell you what you can't do
No one can stop you,
You know that I'm talking to you
I can't believe it. I promised myself not to be as weak as mother. And here I am, thinking of running away, thinking of dying...what kind of daughter would break her promise to her mother? Be brave. Fight. Never give up. No one can stop me from living life the way it should be...not even father. No, not him. After all, it would feel much better to know that you had overcome this stage of life...than to give up while you still have the strength to go on.
When there's no one else look inside yourself
Like your oldest friend just trust the voice within
Then you'll find the strength that will guide your way
You'll learn to begin to trust the voice within
I shouldn't have thought of running away. I shouldn't have thought of killing myself.
I feel dirty. I feel impure.
I betrayed mom...
Somehow...
I should've trusted...I should've...trusted...my inner voice.
Young girl don't cry, I'll be right there when you're world starts to fall
Disclaimer: I don't own Hunter X Hunter; the song The Voice Within is by Christina Aguilera from her album Stripped...?!? What?!? Another one of her songs?!? Oh, well...