Declaimers, author's notes and so on are at the end.

Wipe Away the Tears

Chapter 2: Do you love me?

By: Illyria

04/21/04

Three year old, Lita cringed against the couch as her father yelled at her 'I messed up again,' she thought to herself. The little girl was somehow always in trouble and always getting punished. The number of bruises covering her arms, legs, and torso stood testament to that.

"Sonofa bitch! Do you know how much clothes cost you stupid girl? Look at these pants!" Vick, Lita's stepfather, proceeded to rip the pants in question off her legs and practically shoved them in her face. "Dirty, utterly dirty!" he growled out.

Vick was a tall man, a very thick man; his hands were rough and as big as plates and he never hesitated to use them. "I told you to play outside quietly and I go out to find this?" he waved the pants at her, causing them to slap the girl over the head. "Ripped on both knees and at the seat!"

Vick had a way of yelling, deep with a bite, yet his volume never carried or grew. (Couldn't let the neighbors know who they were living next to after all.) It was enough to make grown men shiver. Yet Lita held her ground knowing that if she cried it would only make it worse. Vick let the pants fall to the floor and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. "Pants cost money, Lita, and I don't have extra just to keep you in clothes because you can't seem to behave!" his rough voice pounded into her head as he roughly shook her body, as well the small hope that this time it would only be words thrown at her.

His rage was clear in his eyes. "You have to be punished!" Vick proceeded to take off his belt, ignoring Lita's protests. He turned her so she was bent against the seat of the couch and hit her sharply with his belt six times, each slap stinging worse than the previous. The first swat left Lita screaming with tears running down her face. The fear and tension she had been holding in ever since her father found her out back playing in the dirt couldn't be contained any longer and she wet herself.

Her father whipped her six more times for the incident.

09/20/04

The room itself was very bare; a toddler bed, a very small dresser, a handful of toys, more geared towards boys than girls were the only indication someone lived there. Rei sat on her bed, hugging her only friend a doll and tried not to cry knowing that it only made her mother angrier. She had been playing quietly enough when her mother stalked into the room and yelled fearfully loud that Rei was making too much noise. She had been promptly spanked at least half a dozen times and placed into her bed afterwards, but that was early this morning and it was now late in the afternoon.

Rei was not allowed to leave her room. At the age of three she knew the consequences were a sound beating from her mother, but three year olds aren't known for their patients, and as well behaved as Rei was, she was also lonely. Warily the little girl quietly left her room. Rei briefly peeked in at her mother, who was on the couch sleeping off a perpetual hangover. Rei shushed her doll, mommy liked it quiet, and the last thing Rei wanted was her mother to find her out of her room and making noise.

Rei made her way towards her parent's room, she wasn't allowed in there, but daddy was gone and mommy was sleeping, so she briefly poked her head in the door, careful not to cross the threshold. Rei sighed, and tried to hold on to the memory of hugs, and stories. The feelings were faint and usually accompanied with confusion, so with a heavy heart she slowly made her way back to her room, stopping briefly to look at her mother before continuing on. Rei never lingered long, she didn't dare, nor did she venture further into the house, from her room, to the hall entrance, to her parents room, back to her own room, was the extent of her gamble.

Rei couldn't understand why things had changed. She tried so hard to be a good, quiet little girl, like mommy asked. She just couldn't understand what she did wrong, so often, to make mommy so mad. Her mother was quick to criticize her, usually punctuated with a slap. Rei knew she was bad it was her fault her mommy told her so. As Rei shut her room door she was determined to be the best little girl so mommy and daddy would love her again.

"Dam kid." Sara continued to mutter incoherently, as she walked down the hallway and into her daughter's room, preparing to bring her down to the dinner table. As Sara walked in, Rei turned around in shock but smiled "mommy, I make you pretty pitcher, look!" The smile on her face died as her mother stalked over. Rei was stretched out on her stomach, in the middle of the room, with a coloring book and a box of crayons, which surprisingly, hadn't been taken away; it was Sara, her mother who, in a very rare good mood, gave her the crayons and coloring book.

Rei slowly moved to her feet, still clutching the box of crayons, as her mother glared down at her. "What the hell are you doing? Where did you get those? Who said you could have crayons?"At the anger in her mother's yell, Rei jumped and dropped the box scattering the twenty-four crayons. She didn't register the clatter as it fell; her eyes were on her mother. "Look what you did. Why can't you behave? How many times do you have to be told?" Sara screamed, yanked the little girl around, turning her to face the floor. Rei was in tears, fear had griped her just as tightly as her mother's hands on her arms. "Pick them up now! You worthless brat! You're nothing but trouble!" Sara snapped, as she slapped the back of Rei's head.

Mr. Hino didn't move from the dinner table at his wife's shouts, nor did look up from his papers as she stalked by, half leading, half dragging, a crying Rei and roughly placed her in a chair to the right of her father "I sorry mommy, I sorry." Rei begged, and tried to move closer to her mother, but she was shoved roughly back. "You're going to sit here" Sara gave Rei a shake when she whimpered "quietly, like a good girl. I don't want any more trouble out of you. You won't ruin your fathers' dinner. Do you understand?" Rei could only nod in agreement. As her mother served dinner, with a slap to Rei's head, the small girl forced her tears to stop, dried her eyes, sat up in her chair and quietly with slow movements as to not make a mess, Rei ate her dinner. Conversation went on around her, though no topic was about Rei, and neither parent talked to her. They commented on this or that, laughing at each other's jokes as though she were not there.

Rei was to be rarely seen and never heard.

10/22/03

The main parlor and adjoining ball room were crowded with hundreds of people. Three fourths of which were adults, most of whom were in one way or another very prominent in the entertainment business. Former and current top actors, agents and lawyers, studio heads, directors and writers alike crowded around tables topped with magnificent food displays. Lights in soft colors changed smoothly as classical music floated through the air, couples danced, people laughed, and talked. All in all, the opportunity to meet, greet and network was abundant.

"For goodness sake, Mina!" her mother yelled in exasperation. "Quit fidgeting. You're wrinkling your lovely dress." Mina had been sitting patiently in a plush chair while people presented her with their gifts and had long since become restless.

Tina Aino, the former star, had spared no expense for her daughter's third birthday. Everyone who was anyone was invited. The party was fully catered with an open bar being attended by some young twenty-something bartender that Tina had had her eye on for the better part of the event. If she hadn't been creating a fuss all over her daughter when all eyes were turned to her, she would have heard the whispers of Mandy Olson, a promising new actress, whose words were somewhat less than kind. "You'd think this was her party. She only does this to show off hoping that the big boys will notice her again. The old bag."

"Mommy?" Mina asked politely, but was ignored for her efforts. "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy," she started to repeat impatiently.

"Mina, I'm busy talking. It's rude to interrupt someone," Tina scolded with a fake plastic smile plastered on her face.

"But Mommy, cake now?" Mina asked tentatively. She knew she had upset her mother; however she also knew that she was safe with all of the guest around. "Please Mommy?" the little girl asked softly.

"Oh, Tina, go easy she's just excited," Karen, one of Tina's plastic friends, interjected.

'Maybe Mommy forget I bad,' Mina hoped, but even as her mother agreed with the nice lady, Mina knew she'd be in trouble later, from the icy glare her mother shot her way.

"Wait, I forgot the camera. Mina, don't move," Tina said firmly, her voice serving as a warning.

"Kay Mommy," she answered with a nod. While her mother slipped from the room, Karen turned to Mina and kneeled down by her. "Are you excited to blow out your candles?"

"Yes, I 'cited!" Mina announced. As the room at large laughed at her response, Mina decided that she would play up to the roll. She stood up on the chair and leaned over onto the table next to her to get a better look at the mass of chocolate frosting that was her multi-layered cake. As she reached forward to stick her finger in the frosting for a small sample, she lost her balance and face planted into the side of the cake, chocolate frosting clumping in her hair and staining her dress with smudges. The guests who witnessed the comic display laughed and joked, their attention on each other, rather than the little girl becoming frightened as the seconds ticked past.

Mina felt the need to run and hide just to get away from the echoing noise, and what her mother called uncouth behavior. Although mina didn't understand most of her mother's instructions she did grasp the punishments would be given if she didn't behave exactly as mommy told her to. "Oh, don't cry, Mina," Karen said consolingly. 'It was just an accident, right?" Mina started to nod in agreement until she caught sight of her mother re-entering the room.

"Mina! What did you do? Just look at your dress!" she exclaimed.

"Tina, it was an accident," Karen spoke up, turning to face the angry woman; she didn't notice the little girl stiffen at the sight of her mother. She slipped is all. Look how cute she is. You should take a picture." Tina Aino was fuming inside as she raised the camera. "Smile, Mina." she said happily, and Mina Aino smiled the perfect smile her mother taught her as she silently shivered inside.

If only the party would never end, she wouldn't have to be alone with her mommy.'

02/13/05

Amy peeked around the corner of the small, but immaculate kitchen where her mother sat and debated whether or not to go in. After a bit, the three year old decided to move forward and climb into the chair opposite of her mother. Mary looked down her nose and gave a sigh of disgust, deciding to ignore the little girl. Amy froze and waited for the usual yelling that normally followed after her mother's sigh. She sat as still as a statue and watched her mother in silent observation for several moments.

Mary had four big books, all dealing with the medical profession, spread over the table and intermingled with many notes of scrap paper strewn throughout. She typed diligently on her laptop, alternately pausing to scribble notes in the margins of the book immediately to her left with a look of concentration imprinted on her faire features, now intermingled with a bit of annoyance as she attempted to not acknowledge the little girl sitting across from her.

'Mommy likes books, like me,' Amy thought happily, and with that thought bouncing around her little head, decided to try her luck. "Mommy, you read me story?" she asked carefully.

"No," Mary snapped. "I'm busy, Amy. Go back to your room and play q-u-i-e-t-l-y," she enunciated each letter of the word, "until your father comes home."

"But Mommy, look!" Excited, and encouraged by the fact that her mother hadn't gotten up to "place" her into her room, Amy slid the oversized story book that she had previously kept clutched on her lap onto the table. Her eyes opened wide as the dark colored fluid in her mother's drinking glass started to spill over the side as the corner of the book knocked it over.

Greg Mizuno, walked into his apartment, and nearly tripped over the two suitcases that had been left laying haphazardly in front of the door. He reached over to the wall to steady himself, eyeing the entryway for the luggage's owner. "Mary, where are you? What's going on?" he yelled into the quiet apartment. As he walked further into the room he spotted Amy crying, standing with her back against the couch, her light blue shirt splattered with juice, and looking pathetically into the kitchen. Greg turned to follow her gaze and his mouth fell open in shock. The kitchen table was covered in what he assumed to be grape juice, along with a few stray papers stained with the purple color. Liquid dripped off the table's surface on onto the two over turned chairs and what looked to be his wife's laptop on the tile floor. At that moment, Mary emerged from their bedroom carrying her purse and pulling her arm through the sleeves of her pea coat.

"What happened?" he asked stopping her.

Mary jerked her head up at his question and determinedly rolled her shoulders back, her posture rigid, in preparation of the approaching fight. She shook of his words and proceeded to pick up her luggage.

"Do you know what your daughter did?" she said, hatred coating every syllable. "She dumped juice all over my thesis. Not only that, she also destroyed my books - books that cost nearly one hundred dollars apiece - books I don't even own that now I'll have to pay for." Mary spared a moment to throw her daughter a loathing sneer, before turning back to Greg. "The little brat ruined my laptop as well. I've had it; I've had enough of all of this. I'm leaving and you are not stopping me this time!" Mary was pissed and her voice rose with every word until she was finally screaming and her face was red with anger.

"There's no way I'm letting you take my daughter from me," Greg stated angrily.

Mary's only response was to laugh heartily. "That's rich, Greg. I m not taking your daughter," she spoke haughtily as if it disgusted her to acknowledge otherwise. "I don't what her. If you remember correctly I never wanted her! She's nothing but an obligation!" Mary shoved past Greg to pick up her remaining suitcase as Greg grabbed her shoulder. "Mary, we could have a happy family," he spoke smoothly, out of reflex but his eyes were empty.

Mary shrugged off his hand. "I'm not going to let you control me anymore." Mary took a step towards Greg, holding on to the fear she felt towards him, using it to fuel her anger. "For the past eight years you have ruined my life, with your dominating-anal retentive-manipulative bull shit, I refuse to stay and be a part of this…family" Mary voice was harsh and her laugh even worse as she opened the door and turned back to face Greg. "Fuck you Greg, you and your family"

Amy never moved from her spot instead choosing to watch the whole fight with silent tears. She was too young to understand what they fought over, although she had an inkling that it was her fault. In fact maybe the whole thing was her fault. The weight of the world came crashing down on the shoulders of the small three year old girl who continued to stay in her spot as her father cleaned up the mess in the kitchen.

Finally he came over and knelt in front of her, his hand stroking her hair softly while the other hand dabbed at her stained shirt with a wet paper towel. Amy started to squirm under his touch, wishing that she was not left alone with him. When he finally spoke she jumped. "Amy, did Mommy hit you?" Amy's mother never hit her, she never hugged her, the only thing she ever did was give Amy her hatred of her, but being only three years old, Amy only shook her head no to her father's question not having the words to explain any of this. After another long intense gaze from her father he announced with a kind voice that Amy was a mess and needed a bath. As he picked up his daughter and walked down the hall, little Amy could only cry. Her mother might hate her and ignore her, but if she could Amy would gladly choose her mother over her father, no matter how nice he seemed.

As the bathroom door shut, Amy's little voice squeaked out. "No bath, Daddy."

10/12/04

"Dad I'm home" Sammy called out as he swung the front door closed. The house was quiet and dim with the shades drawn. Since the windows were rarely opened anymore, unless he took the time to do so himself, the air always felt stale when he entered. It left him feeling jealous that whenever he would go to a friend's house it would smell like cookies or even cleaner as he walked through their front door. Perhaps it was fortunate that he had so few memories of his mother otherwise it would probably pain him more to know what he was really going without in life. In the ensuing silence, he could faintly hear the click clack of someone typing and soon found his father in sitting his office, his eyes firmly fixed to the monitor in front of him.

The office was just as dark and quiet as the house, the blue white glow emanating from the screen inches away from his father's face gave him a pale appearance. The desk, walls, and shelves were sparse, filled with only the necessary office equipment. One of Sammy's mother's many passions had been creating a loving home, tending to it and decorating it. It was all gone now - pictures, art, any personal touches his mother had added to the house were since removed, either given away or trashed. His father Ken even went as far as to toss out furniture and cookery in his initial rage over the loss of his wife. The only room in the house that had been spared was the room that would become Serena's. It wasn't so much that he held any endearment for the child or its contents, Sammy had come to realize, it was more so because of his father's lack of interest in doing anything in acknowledgement of the young child.

Ken didn't bother to look up from his work as Sammy eased into the office, instead choosing to grunt out a greeting before moving into his line of questioning. The sooner he received his answers, the sooner the boy would be out of his sight. "How was school?" The question was asked with a distant flat voice.

Sammy flushed with anger yet his voice stayed even. "It was alright. I got a B on my history test." His father was gone, replaced with a robot. Even at his age he could recognize the soulless existence that had become his father.

"Really, and why didn't you get an A?" Ken asked as he looked up, a perturbed frown marring his slightly aging features. He spoke as if addressing a peon in his office that just cost the company an important business deal.

"Dad, come on," Sammy said, getting flustered. Nothing was ever good enough for his father. Not at least since his mother died.

"Your report card is coming this month?"

"Yes Dad, next Monday."

Ken gave his son a second more of his time before turning back to the computer clearly dismissing Sammy. He had pulled away from his family since this wife's death and had changed from an easy going, loving father to a workaholic, distant, unforgiving, angry man who had time for no one.

As the silence progressed Sammy decided to try his luck. "How was Serena today? Did you take her to the park at all?" Sammy silently counted down 3.2.1...

"Sam, I'm very busy with work. I barely have time to do house work let alone go to the park with her." He avoided saying Serena's name at all cost - he always did. Ken turned away from his son, deeming the conversation to be over.

Sammy was still a little boy, young enough to remember the good times, young enough to still have hope, so he went through the motions. Things had to get better sometime, didn't they? He paused at the doorway to ask a question even thought he knew he wouldn't get an answer. "Did Serena have lunch?" His father only grunted in response, translation no.

"Where is she?" A hand waved vaguely toward the living room. Sammy made sure to shut the door tightly as he left. Some days it gave him a feeling of relief to know that his father was as much trapped in his office as he was barricading himself in.

Sammy found Serena on the couch crying into a stuffed bunny that her mother had got her in advance for her homecoming. She smiled brightly at seeing her older brother. "Sammy."

"Hey, Serena. How's my little sister today? Did you eat lunch?" At Sammy's question Serena extended her arm to reveal an empty bottle of milk. "Ok, would you like Mac and cheese?"

"Yes I rumbley, Sammy," she murmured in her small voice.

"Ok, come on, you can sit in the kitchen with me." Serena gingerly slid off the couch wincing at every step.

Sammy had to fight down the urge to curse and bust down the door to his dads' office. Why couldn't he be the parent? Why did he leave it to Sammy to cook for himself, clean the house, and basically parent his sister? 'I hate you,' he thought bitterly. 'I wish mom was here instead.' But looking down at his little sister, who was trying not to cry as she walked, melted his heart. "Does it hurt Serena?" he stopped her, and Serena, winced again.

"No, Sammy, it no hurt."

"Yeah right," he said as he picked her up, careful to avoid touching anywhere near her backside where a diaper rash was surely taking its toll on her soft skin. "Let's eat lunch and then I'll give you a bath, that should make you feel better."

Sammy was in tears; his sister was standing in the bath tub screaming her head off as Sammy cleaned her bottom as gently as he could with a damp washcloth. "I'm sorry Serena, I'm almost done, but you got to stop screaming."

"It hurt Sammy, burn, no more it hurt." She begged tears choking her voice.

"Ok look, I'm rinsing you off then we can get out." Serena's only answer was to cry louder as the water hit her. Ken never came up once to investigate.

Later that night, Sammy had Serena in his bed with two thick towels spread out under her as she was wearing no underwear or a diaper, and slathered with diaper was one of the worst diaper rashes he seen on her. Ken hated to change Serena, he truly hated to do anything for the little girl just simply ignoring her at all cost. He always made it clear how angry it made him when he was forced to care or tend to her, or as close to one can be considered doing so, during the day when Sammy was at school. On the evenings and weekends when Sammy was home, his father acted as if Serena didn't exist, leaving Sammy to parent her instead. "So he was a real rabbit after all. The end." Sammy moved to put the book on the shelf.

"Sammy, no go, stay wiff me." Serena reached out automatically in panic.

"I'm not going anywhere," Sammy said soothingly coming back to the bed. "Serena, do understand about the potty? You can't go pee in your diaper anymore, or it's going to keep hurting." Serena's eyes enlarged as she shook her head. "Good, where do you go potty then?" Serena silently pointed towards the hallway where the door to the bathroom could almost be seen from where they lay. Sammy kissed his sister on the forehead, and just as he was about to lay on the pallet on the floor next to the bed, Ken walked past the door and looked in.

"What the hell are you doing, Sam? Your sister is naked and she's going to have an accident all over the bed." Before Sammy could tell his dad anything, Ken left the room in a huff, and came back with a diaper, seeing the diaper, Serena started crying.

"No, Dad, you can't put her in a diaper, she has a rash, and you'll make it worse!" Sammy, had by now jumped up, and was trying to block his fathers' path.

Ken ignored his son, only stopping to push him out of the way, knocking him to the floor, as he yanked Serena off the bed. Sammy saw stars when his head bounced off the floor and could only watch as his father walked away to bring her into her room and literally dropped a screaming Serena into her own crib before slamming her door.

He stopped once more in Sammy's doorway and glared at his young son. "Don't even think about going in that room," he said menacingly before continuing on his way.

Sammy, waited until he heard the office door slam shut before slipping into Serena's room. "Keep crying, Serena," Sammy whispered, "or dad will come back." He loosened her diaper to try and make her more comfortable before kissing her forehead apologetically, and slipping back to his own room. Sammy never heard the small, tear filled plea aimed at his retreating back.

"Sammy stay wiff me, daddy no come back."

Okay, standard disclaimers come first. I own nothing …except the story itself. Mine hands offJ

Many thanks go out to alizeP for beta-reading most of this chapter; the rest is my inferior attempts at editing, of which the finer details are lost to me… so any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Author's notes: well here's chapter two, yeah chapter 2. Anyway like I said the story is complete it just needs sprucing up. I got some free time so hopefully chapter 3 won't take forever to get out. well that's the extent of my news, let me know what you think criticism can be a good thing .

Side note – is anyone good at summaries I could use a little help if you haven't already noticed :p

Illyria