My mom named me my name for a reason. Apparently, it means 'protector' in some language that my mom doesn't even know but she knows that name. And I know why she named me it.
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Before I was even born, before my mother was even aware I was a little thing somewhere in her body, my dad died in a car crash. In a car that was supposedly brand new but swerved in the heavy traffic of my foreign country. My mom told me that really was the worst day of her life. How she was expecting him at their quaint house and how the police came there to tell her the news. But she told me what really sent her into deep sadness was when she went to identify the body, they told her that a velvet box was inside one of his pockets and she didn't even open it because she was already gasping for breath in between each loud sob. And when she found out about me, she was happy and sad at the same time, she told me. Happy because she would have her first child and there were people there to cherish me. Sad, because the right person to take care of me wasn't there anymore. She told me that the thought of abortion crossed her mind once when she was in the dark; saying to herself that she can't have a constant reminder of the one she lost. But she quickly deleted it, saying that she would never forgive herself and would then be reminded of him and me.
Once my mom had me, a beautiful baby girl with caramel skin and abnormal grey eyes, she decided that I really would need a father because she was too familiar with growing up without one meant.
She met someone else. I was still a little baby so I can't remember our meeting. My mom said that when she told him about me, he wasn't like the other guys she tried to date who suddenly became awkward and stepped away from my mom because it's was weird that a twenty year old already has a kid. He was sweet and kind and nice and everything my mom dreamed the perfect man would be like. They went out for 2 years and in that time I knew my real dad had died (I had asked apparently) but I thought him as my father. And I was glad they got married. The ceremony, I remember, was small, even though his family was huge (12 brothers and sisters, like damn), and everyone in his family accepted me in their family.
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Now here I am, a 21 year old girl with memories of the past in a tube and not knowing where I really am. Or who these people in front of me are.
And, what the fuck is 'the ark'?
And why am I on it?!
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O.N.Y.X
FanfictionAt first, it's a mission. Then, it's a mistake. But in the end, it's a promise. ≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡ This is the story of her, of how she became herself in the past and how she knew who she was in t...
