ON APRIL 13TH, my mom woke up during the night. She was slightly feverish and sweating like crazy. A disheveled look graced her features as she hoisted herself up from her lying position and flipped the blankets off her. When she looked down to check on her stomach, she screamed violently like a banshee.
Blood.
There was a pool of blood around her lower area.
My dad, startled by her scream, woke up in a flash and before he could ask what happened, his eyes shifted downwards for a split second before he also saw the pool of blood. Without a second thought, my dad grabbed their already packed suitcases (they were prepared for a trip to the hospital just in case of emergencies) and rushed to wake Yuri and me up.
Since Yuri and I slept in the same bedroom, because my room was converted into a baby room for my little brother, it was easy for us to wake up at the same time. With no words of explanation, my dad rushed Yuri and me to a neighbor's house, quickly explaining the situation before going back inside the house and dragging my hysteric mother into the car. He re-entered the house and came out with their suitcases, slamming them into the trunk before hopping in the driver's seat and speeding out of the driveway.
Though I was drowsy, I remember watching the car speed away as the neighbor my dad left us with guided Yuri and me back into our house. She was a female neighbor, a young twenty-one-year-old, and she was often our babysitter when my dad and mom would go out for their anniversaries. Thus, she was completely familiarized with the house and sent us back to our room, telling us to go back to sleep.
I was completely willing; jumping straight back into my warm blankets to snuggle up tightly against my mattress. Yuri, on the other hand, immediately went to our window that overlooked our driveway. She stood there, silently and patiently, as if she was waiting for something.
"What is it?" I managed to mumble. "Come back to bed, Yuri."
Yuri didn't even spare me a glance. She was fixated on something outside, something I couldn't see from my bed. Then, without a word, she turned away from the window and walked out, heading straight towards our parent's bedroom.
☽༺♥༻☾
ON APRIL 14TH, my baby brother was pronounced dead.
It was quite a blow for my mom. To have tried every possible way to conceive a boy and yet it was taken away from her as quick as lightning. Even though my dad felt the same, he had to simply shoulder that burden and comfort my mom.
He tried his best. However, my mom slipped into a depression a few days later.
During her depression, she often lashed out at me whenever I appeared in front of her. She seemed to look at me with such loathing and hate that I could barely stand being in the same room as her. Even though she mostly yelled at me and called me a string of curse words whenever I approached her, nothing beyond that would occur.
That is, until one day she approached me.
☽༺♥༻☾
IT WAS FIVE years after my baby brother had died.
I was nine going on ten. I was in my last year of elementary school and was excited to start my junior high years.
When it came to my mom and me, it got neither worse nor better. My mom eventually stopped lashing out at me and ended up just flat out ignoring me. She acted as if I didn't exist. If it were not for my dad who did care for me, I would've been a neglected child.
Even though I was only nine, I was already used to not having the attention of my mom. I didn't get it from her in the first place, so there was nothing for me to miss at all. In fact, I liked her the most when she was ignoring me. It gave me peace when I needed it most.
That peace ended just before my baby brother's fifth death anniversary.
I don't know what happened to cause it or why it happened, but during the funeral service, amidst all the guest that lingered in the lobby, my mom came up to me and smacked me across my face.
I was stunned, needless to say, and collapsed to the ground as my mom started kicking me senseless while screaming violent curses.
"You wrench! You bitch! You hopeless, useless coward!" She yelled. "You murdered my baby boy! You murdered my son!"
I, the hopeless, useless coward that she called me, could only watch in silence at the rampage my mom threw. I looked a little ways past her to find my sister Yuri standing at the edge of the crowd, looking on quietly. While everyone was taken aback at my mother's outburst, she was the only one with no reaction.
It was kind of like she expected it to happen.
My dad was the first one to recover and attempted to drag my mother out, who was screaming and cursing at me the entire time. Her performance ended up causing whispers among the few guests that came.
"Murdered? Was her baby murdered?"
"No, it happened because of a miscarriage! Didn't you know that she slipped into a depression days after her miscarriage happened?"
"Eh? Then why is she blaming someone for murdering her baby? Especially her own daughter?"
"Madness, I suppose. Maybe insanity has finally claimed her."
While the guests were discussing and talking about my mom's questionable sanity, my dad came back into the building to come and help me up. He didn't give me any words of comfort, nor did he act disgusted with me. He simply pulled me along to a taxi that was waiting outside, gesturing me to climb in first before he went in behind me.
He did not speak to me. The only words he uttered was to the cab driver and those words were,
"Take us to Han Corporation."
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