Deficit[incomplete]

Chapter 2

"Calla!"

Her face lifted from bed as *if controlled by an external force*, her hand pushing against the soft mattress underneath. Pus still oozed from her wounds and her back screamed in pain as she stirred in the sheets. The scream came again, this time pushing her up from the grogginess weighing her. Thick threads of saliva flayed in the air as she looked up at the person who pushed the door open. It was her foster mom - an immiscible concortion of good and evil personified. They locked eyes for a little while when the woman spoke up.

"Still asleep?"

"It hurts. Pretty bad."

"He's just doing what he thinks is best for you. Not easy, I know. But you will come to appreciate this once you leave."

Leave? Her sleepy eyes opened wide and for a moment, she forgot that her body should scream.

"May I ask where I'm going?" Her eyes now sat on the woman's who approached the bed. She had innocent cat-like eyes that rested above firm and a narrow nose and they stared back with much innocence that Calla already forgot who she was.

"You know, I don't treat you enough like a mother treats her daughter. There's just so much I wish I could do about everything that is happening. And that's part of why I'm here - to beg your forgiveness."

"Mom." Her eyes began to water. "You're not at fault. Well, you're not at fault for everything. So, I forgive you. But you're avoiding the question."

"Home. Can't bear seeing you like this another day." The woman replied, sniffing  and wiping tiny tear drops that formed at the corner of her eyes with her fingers.

"Home?" She pressed. "You know where home is? How come you didn't -"

"I'm sorry, Calla. I tried. But I don't want Rhoda to be lonely like I was. Her brothers won't be here for long. Neither would I, nor Don."

"What's going on?" She shuddered in the sharp pain reminding her of the stripes on her back.

"Don is trying his best to build us a better future where we can be happy." She droned.

"Do you think it's working?" Calla leaned towards her, so that there was only a breath's distance between them. "Be honest, Mom. Please."

"It should." She replied, squeezing a handful of bedsheet fabric in her hand.
"I've prayed about it and I know our God answers prayers." Gulping hard, she digressed. "By the way, I talked to your parents last week. They said, they want to know if you'd like them to come over."

Shock coursed through her from head to toe and she felt her hairs stand on end. This was her chance to see what they looked like and ask those questions she had written in several small diaries in primary school.

"There isn't much that anyone wants to know about the current me. I don't have the strength for all their trouble."

"Calla. Rhoda and Damien asked to see them. I'm sure you want to know them too. Don't fight the thought."

"Mom." She pressed. "I'm not Rhoda or Damien. And it's not about my feelings. I'm just not in a good position to make them feel welcome."

"Calla."

"Why are they suddenly interested in me? After all these years!" Anger escaped in her voice which mellowed almost as quickly as the thought that Don was still at home jumped into her mind.

"I understand. But perhaps, getting to know them would bring some sort of understanding between you two." Her soft voice lulled and her warm hands rested on Calla's. "Trust me, it's for your own good. Besides, why do you still want to stay here when you have every opportunity to be free."

"What opportunity do I have that you don't?" She retorted, and for a minute,  her mother's mouth formed a gape.

"Calla, you are such a stubborn child. I'm sorry but Don did not tame you well enough."

She stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her, leaving the girl to face her fears about Don.

7:30 pm. At night, she waded out of her room into the corridor that led to the living room when she heard strange sounds. After a few minutes of straining hard to listen, her ears filtered out giggles and snorts. And no matter how hard she tried to fight it, her mind pulled her towards that room. With a U-turn, she was back at that door, crouched and eager to see what made Don or Patricia giggle like little children at the ice cream stand. Thud. Her knee had kicked the door. She scowled at it as though it was a separate entity, as if she had warned it of this predicament before hand. The door creaked around its edges and a shadow swallowed her from the dim red light in the room.

"What are you doing?" Don grunted, his pudgy belly heaving as he waited for a response. His mint-laced breath poured on her face from a good height above, causing her eyes to water.

"I was going to get some water to drink when I heard some funny sounds. So I thought I should come and check what it was."

"And what did you find?" He followed.

"You and mom were playing?"

"Playing what?" He pushed.

"I don't know. Didn't have enough time to see it properly. Please let me go, I was just thirsty."

He chuckled and nodded, then grunted. "Please tell me, where's Rhoda?"

"She's fast asleep. In bed." She snapped.

"Did she get thrashed like you?"

"No."

"And yet, she's the one fast asleep while you're here prying into matters that are of no concern to you, in any way. The chains are still fastened, your coop still intact and the flagella, fixed. If you keep acting like the wild animal that you are, I'd just keep up with my attempts to tame you." He beamed a smile from ear to ear, then continued. "Now, get lost."