Heal Chapter 2 Part 2

Dark, eery silence always consumed the alley on the west side of town. Not a soul was there, as usual.

Except for tonight.

A noise sounded from the alley. A sound of a shoe scuffing the concrete. Before I had a chance to react, a hand placed itself over my mouth, muffling all noise.

Dammit. Mugged, great. I was going to be late coming home.

As soon as my back pressed against the grimy alley wall, the hand over my mouth disappeared. Finally, I got to speak.

"Look, i don't have any money. I'm just a student."

The mugger laughed, a deep throaty laugh.

"I find it simply hilarious how you think I want your money," He breathed into my ear.

Confused, I adjusted to try and get a better look at him, but he just held me tighter against the wall. I felt his hands find their way under my blouse, and I gasped in shock and repulsion.

"Pervert!" I yelled in a whispered tone, trying to push his hands away. This action seemed to accomplish nothing but to anger him. Fuming, he slapped his hand across my face. Hard.

"Look, bitch, don't fight back, and this'll go real smooth," He growled.

I nodded, tears racing down my cheeks. No...this isn't happening...

That thought disappeared as I felt his hands tearing at my clothes.

My brain, a little slow today, finally realized I was being raped.

All defenses went up. My body shut off all senses, putting me in a trance. However, that didn't stop the assaults on my body.

Hands tearing at my clothes.

Thrusting, in and out, at an agonizing pace.

And the filth. Oh, all the filth. Everywhere, never coming off-

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!

I shot straight up, sweat pouring down my face, panting and gasping as I looked around to locate the source of the noise. Finally, I realized the noise was simply coming from my alarm clock. Pressing the 'off' button, I let my head fall into my hands. Well, the dream came again. Hell bent, it seemed, on torturing me time and time again. Just sitting there for a few minutes, I let my breathing and heart rate regulate back to normal, before I started to get ready. The movers would be here at 3, and the plane takes off a 9. Perfect.

Shifting out of bed, I rose to get the clothes I left out of the boxes.

I walked out of my room in a pair of casual black pants and a dark blue button down shirt.

It was honestly kind of sad seeing the house empty. It feels like just yesterday we moved in, from the old apartment on the other side of Tokyo.

The door swung open, revealing a small, yet cozy two bedroom apartment. It felt like home, It looked like home. Heck, it even smelled like home. I can just imagine where all the furniture would go. The black sofa would go there, the Brown wooden side tables would go there...

The cocaine stash would go there.

And they'd pass out over there, against that wall.

Tears sprung into my eyes, as I realized how this little apartment, was made for a small, happy family. Not some crackhead family who wouldn't even notice the beauty. They were too busy hosting parties and getting high.

It wouldn't be the cozy little house where friends and relatives would visit.

I snapped out of my flashback as the word 'relative' came up. Ah, the relatives. They were the only normal ones in the family. My Grandparents. Especially Dad's side.

"Haruhi," A voice rasped, weakened and crackling from years of screaming on the sidelines. My head turned around to my grandfather, Isaac. He smiled kindly at me, motioning for me to come over. I rose to my feet, and walked across his fluffy white carpet to meet him at his armchair. I kneeled at the armrest and looked at him, curosity lighting my eyes.

"Yes, Grandfather?" I asked, pushing a stray hand of hair out of my face.

"I have something I want to give you. Something back from my childhood," He rasped, reaching into his pocket to retrieve whatever it was. He pulled out a coin of some sort, silver, like any other coin. He handed it to me, and I eyed it curiously. It had an eagle on it, and an odd symbol. I've never seen it before.

"What is it, Grandfather?" I asked in a confused tone.

"That, Haruhi, is a coin from the concentration camp Auschwitz in Poland," He said somewhat quietly.

I looked up at him, questions in my eyes. "What's a concentration camp? Is it like a math camp?"

He shook his head softly. "No Haruhi. Have you ever heard of the Holocaust? It happened around the 1940s?"

I nodded my head, somewhat understanding. "Wasn't that when the Germans killed all those Jewish people? Oh, what was the group called...Nacis? No...Nazis! That's it, Nazis," I said, proud that I managed to remember it.

He nodded his heads. "They killed more than Jewish people, Haruhi. They killed different people. Gypsies, Homosexuals, and people like me, with disabilities. A concentration camp was a camp set up by the Nazis, to keep people like us in there, to torture us, to embarrass us, to kill us. This coin," He pointed at the coin. "Was the currency the Nazis used in the camps. I found this on the ground during role call one day, and I've had it ever since."

I looked at him, shocked. I never knew he was so involved in World War 2.

"Grandfather...are you sure you want me to have this coin? I mean, it's such a big part of your past, and I wouldn't want to take that away from you."

He looked at me and smiled. "Haruhi, this coin might be a big part of my past, but you are a bigger part of my future. I want you and everyone else who follows, to know how much I went through, to get our family where it is today. Strong and Independant."

I looked up at him, determination in my dark brown eyes. "Grandfather, I will never let this coin out of my sight. Not until it is passed down."

And to this day, I've kept that promise. The coin still sits in my pocket, with me everywhere I go. Every night, I take the coin out and just stare at it, mesmerized by how much history this one coin held. It was in a Nazi Concentration Camp. Back then, when my Grandfather spoke to me of the concentration camps, I didn't fully realize how bad the camps were until I researched it online when I reached an older age.

Just then, I realized how much this coin meant to my Grandfather, to the world. They wanted to hear stories like his, they wanted to hear mistakes, so they would not be made again.

Which is exactly what I want to do.

When I get out of this house, I'm getting my degrees in English Literature, and Holocaust and Genocide Studies, and I'm telling the world. I'm telling the entire world how much he went through, so they can realize how much truly happened.

But, I'm getting off topic of relatives. My Grandmother passed away early, so I never met her. Now, onto Mom's family. Let's just say, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree on this one.

The door squeaked open as we entered the run down Tokyo apartment. A full cloud of smoke greeted me, and sent me doubling over in a coughing fit. This is what always greeted me when I stepped into my Grandparents apartment in the slums. Remember how your grandparents always baked you cookies and had lemonade ready?

Hah, well, My grandparents had a pile of meth on the coffee table and about twenty bottles of whiskey, vodka, and anything else in the cabinets.

My Mom's parents always thought my dad was a perfect match for their daughter, while I was just an annoying little brat who got in the way of fully supported wild partying, underage drinking, teen sex, jail time, anything, that was deemed 'bad' they supported.

This time, when we visited, there was a cop-worthy party going on. Automatically, my dad let go of my hand and immediately went off to find a girl for the night. Leaving me, a six year old girl, to navigate her way throughout a wild, crack party. My first instinct was to go to the bedroom, and hide out there until the party dissolved.

So, I led myself through crowds of people to the back bedroom. Let's just say, bad place to go. What met my eyes when I opened the doors, was a man, no older than thirty, dark brown hair, very thin, and a woman, blonde hair, curvy figure, furiously making out on the blue comforter, ripping and tearing at each others clothing. I closed the door in a quick and quiet motion, freaked out greatly, and decided not to check the other bedrooms, hoping not to arrive at the same sight.

So, I hid out in the linen closet in the hallway. Just until the cops broke up the party at about four in the morning.

So, there's my mother's family. Amazing, huh? Both sides of my family's parents are dead now. Mom's side from an overdose and lung cancer, and Grandfather from dying peacfully in his sleep.

All I have now is dad. Aren't I lucky?

I resumed walking through the empty house, musing at all the memories it brought back.

Knock Knock

My head turned to the door, realizing the movers were here. I quickly walked over to the door, opening it to reveal two burly men.

"Hi, is this the Fujioka residence?"

I smiled, trying to make them feel welcome.

"Why yes it is. Please, come in."

The movers were very efficient and quick, loading all the boxes and furniture onto the truck in no time. Finally, there were only our suitcases and carry ons in the empty house. I sat down on my floor, looking around in wonder. The room was completely bare. Typical Japanese room.

I wonder what a typical English room looks like, I mused.

Guess we'll have to find out.

oooooooooo

Dad finally woke up, sober, and drove to the airport, looking at the house one final time.

We reached Haneda International Airport, and checked in our bags and ourselves. We left the car in the parking lot, having already gotten paid for it. Dad sold it to one of his crack buddies, telling him we couldn't have our car over in England. We were going to buy a new car over there.

Finally, our flight was called. As I stepped onto the plane and to my seat, I said my final goodbye, to my old home known as Japan. Leaving all the memories with it.