Ch. 1

Palmers was my home, my sanctuary, and to sum it all up my everything. Until the day when Sister Angela the founder of Palmers had picked me up I felt like I had nothing worth living for. I would be beaten, starved because no one offered to feed me, I lived on the streets because the screams of my mother being beaten by my father were to much to bare. In all I was a complete coward. Yet one day my mom died, my dad was locked up, and that’s when I really found out the meaning of being absolutely alone. I was completely lost, I stole when I was hungry, I robbed when I wanted money, and to disguise my gender I dressed like a boy to join in street fights. I wanted my cursed life to just end and I did jut about anything ,and everything to accomplish my goal. Just when I thought I had gotten my wish she had appeared in my life. It was in the cold harsh winter of when I was 8. I had gotten beaten badly , knifed to my side so that my crimson blood stained the pure white snow. Yet she didn’t care about the blood that stained her hand as she inspected me with a worried look. Nor did her face twist in disgust as everyone else’s did when they passed by. Sister Angela simply picked me up and took me to Palmers , where I got treated. I woke up surprised at the warm cinnamon smells that wafted through the air, and the itchy ,wool sweater and pants that I was wearing instead of my tattered and aged clothes. It was then that I noticed her presence. As she walked past me I glared at her. Long ago I had given up the use of words, feeling that actions and my fists seemed to work better In the street life I had carved out for myself. Yet she ignored my grin and instead felt my fore head. I jumped back in surprise. Yet she just looked at me in relief.

“I’m glad that your fever went down.” her voice felt like a warm summer wind against me.” How are you feeling?”, the words she spoke at that time were so alien, and I just looked in her in surprise. Instead of answering I looked down into the warm sheets which I started to fiddle with. I could hear her chuckle softly.

“My by your lively reactions I guess your fairing much better. Now whether you want to talk or not that I won’t force out of you but it’d be nice to know your name.” she then got up, and I was about to follow when she raised her hand. ”Now you must rest. If there’s somewhere you need to be you can go once you’ve regained your strength but until then I ask that you relax, because you are welcomed to stay fro as long as you like.”, I was surprised at her words and actions. For the next 2 weeks I had stayed in bed, frequently noticing that there were people secretly staring from the windows and door, and having Sister Angela visiting me. Even though she said she wouldn’t force me to talk, and I didn’t she couldn’t help but say, if only I knew your name, and soon I even longed to tell her it, but the problem was that I had forgotten it. Not once had I remembered nor cared about what my mother called me and what my father cursed at me. Yet now I was desperately trying to grab on to a memory of when my mother had used my name, but I couldn’t because there was no time. During the third week when Sister Angela was leaving I did something that even surprised me.

“Wait!” I called out. She turned around surprised, not just at my talking but at the tears that had started to fall. even I was surprised because not once had I shed a tear in all of the 5 years that I lived alone, and only trusted myself, yet here I was crying in front of her. Liked always her actions made me surprised. And as she hugged me I flinched for only an instant until I hugged her vigorously back. I never knew I could feel this way, nor did I know just how much sorrow I had bottled up inside. The frustration of not being able to remember my name had been the trigger to helping me express what I truly felt, and I wasn’t sure to feel mad or glad because of it.

“What is it?” she said softly.” Don’t worry I’m here.”

“My name.” I sobbed,” I can’t remember it!”, she looked surprised, but only for an instant.

“Then we’ll just have to give you a new one until you can.” I looked up at her surprised.

“But why, why would you want to name some one like me?” she then frowned.

“The real question is why not name a beautiful girl like you.” she then hugged me tighter. It had been the first time that some one had called me something other than repulsive, brat, street scum, and b*****d child and I couldn’t help but look utterly surprised.” So the question now is what would you like to be called?” I still was in a daze too surprised really to think of anything so just shook m head.

“I don’t know.”, frustration was the first emotion to flood over me.

“Then may I give you a name?”, Sister Angela said with a smile. I nodded in agreement. For a second she seemed to ponder ,but her face lit up as she found the answer she was searching for. She then nodded to herself as to agree with the decision she came up with. I didn’t realize until after she said my name that I was holding my breathe.” Aya.” she said with a smile. I slowly let it sunk in and a strange feeling started to creep up. So I would learn that the feeling was happiness, which my days were filled with for 3 years because of Sister Angela. I was able to start completely over because of her. Realizing that I really had no where else to go I stayed at Palmers Orphanage with 20 other kids. For the first year I didn’t talk to anyone, because I couldn’t help but feel that talking to them was necessary. That is until she came. Mitsuki was 5 at the time. Like me she didn’t talk and hardly ate. Her hair was as bright as the sun, falling down in large blond waves. Her eyes were like deep blue depths of the ocean and It was almost impossible to not notice her, yet somehow our friendship started when I found her huddled in a corner during a thunderstorm. Her fear ,that was kept a secret is what at first linked the two of us together when I helped her coop through the night. Later it was apparent just how much we needed each other. When Sister Angela was targeted and shot I don’t think there was anyone who didn’t worry. She was the supporting wall that kept so many of us kids intact including me, and even though I acted like it didn’t faze me I couldn’t help but cry secretly during the night praying that she was alright. Somehow Mitsuki had found me one day and suddenly hugged me and broke out in tears as well. But later she had told me that the reason for her tears was actually me. She seemed to realize that even though I had a poker face on and nothing really fazed me, Sister had been the most important person to me. From then on me and Mitsuki’s relationship grew. Over the next year our relationship grew and I finally learned what it was like to have a family. Mitsuki had turned into my precious little sister and Sister Angela had been like my mother. Once Angela had been released from the hospital I felt like everything would finally be alright. While I still stayed the same in not talking to anyone but Mitsuki and Sister Angela, Mitsuki had learned to socialize and had made many friends. Due to her weak body Mitsuki had to be watched a job that I took on. Finally I fell like I’d get the chance of a peaceful conflict free life that I never knew, unfortunately I would soon learn how cruel the world could be, and how naïve I actually was. In my fourth year at the orphanage my life turned into hell. Mitsuki had developed pancreatic cancer , and in 6 months my most important and dear sister was stolen from me. Sister Angela the person I had loved so dearly and felt like she was the mother I never had was murdered right in front of my eyes, and all the kids who I grew up with were forced to turn to the streets once again.

I think that the days of Sister Angela’s death will forever more be etched in my mind. As she promised she had taken me to Mitsuki’s grave, but on the way back we had met up with what appeared o be a very rich man who wanted her to sell Palmers and of course she refused. He was infuriated by this and in a blink of an eye he had come at her with a knife.. He had gotten her right in the heart, I ran over to Angela who was drenched in her own blood. Didn’t even realize that as the man made his escape he cut he sliced me across the back and got into the car his car to make a hazy get away. No all I could remember was his hysterical laugh in the background as I watched helplessly when the snow was drenched in Sister Angela’s blood. I didn’t even notice how I been saying no repeatively or how tears were cascading down my face because I was too focused on the words that she managed to gasp, her final words.

“Pease Aya my dead dear child don’t be sad, and I want you to know that I love you very much.”, he eyes never opened as they fluttered one last time. I knew I wouldn’t begetting any more breathes out of her and I just stood there speechless. All I could do was hold her harder, cry harder, and wish that I would freeze to death, in the frigid winter night, but I didn’t. instead I woke up to the memory of Sister Angela finding me. I looked down hoping that it had been just a sick twisted nightmare but it wasn’t, because there she was with a peaceful smile on her face. This time my tears did not fall because I felt like I had been crying them all out. Soon a women had found us and called a policemen over. Instead of staying I listened to my instincts and headed towards Palmers. To my shock half of the building had been taken down already. It was official I had been brought back to the way I used to live. No I thought ironically, I hadn’t before I had no one from the start, my heart didn’t ache like this before, nor did I yearn for the company of others. I had been perfectly fine before not knowing anyone, and for a minute I even started to hate Sister Angela who had taken me away from my old life, and from preventing me from fulfilling my greatest wish dying. I then realized that instead of taking the same foolish path as before I’d make full use of this hollow body of mine. Revenge, the word quickly penetrated my mind. Before I was weak and useless when my father had beaten my mother, but I would soon change that. This time I will be different. I would get revenge on Angela’s killer’s and the people who refused to give Mitsuki the right medicine, instead I later found out they decided to lie to us saying that there was a new medicine that might increase her chance of survival and used an untested medicine instead. She had been the doctors guinea pig, and because of it she died alone and in pain because they wouldn’t let us see her. This something that I had kept from Angela because I feared she wouldn’t believe me. This time I wouldn’t be stupid I’d go down the path of revenge. As I snapped out of my train of thought I started to walked down a snow covered alley. Slowly I pulled out the blood stained knife the man had used to kill Angela. While the police flooded the area I managed to slip it into my pocket. In the alley I stumbled upon a broken mirror as I cleared the glass and was able to see myself I held the knife up and with one quick swipe I chopped my waist length hair into a shaggy bob. The hair that Mitsuki would always comb and say that I should never cut. With It gone I felt like once again I had shed off my old skin a started a new life. Slowly a word that I thought I had long forgotten had crept into my head.

“Marue.”, I whispered into the darkness of the night. It was my old name. I gave a harsh laugh and smiled wickedly while staring at the full moon. Once again I would start a new life except this time I won’t need to be guided because I knew exactly the path I would take.

“ This is going to be fun.” I said aloud while smiling to myself. I suppose that most would say this is when I’d lost it but I thought the contrary. I had found what I wanted to do, and that was to fulfill my desire to avenge Sister Angela, and Mitsuki and I wasn’t about to let anyone get in my way.