My Cherry Blossom | Aizawa's wife

~Chapter 6~

Sakura pov

I had been uncomfortable since the moment that boy named Mineta had started staring at me and the worst was that he never seemed to stop, I could feel his stare burning into my skull when I was reading his file or writing something down. It sent my anxiety spiking and I almost let it control me, but before that could happen I was able to send him out of my office and I was grateful for that.

So now here I was all alone in my office with the door locked, I could feel the panic from earlier finally consume me. I tried to make my way to the couch, to a safe place where I wasn't able to hurt myself, but of course I didn't make it.

I collapsed to the ground and wasn't able to catch myself on time making me hit the corner of the coffee table with one of my sides right in one of the bruises Aizawa had left the night before. I didn't know what to think of the pain it was comforting, but it also felt like I was burning.

The burning gave me a flashback of a moment I'd rather forget along with a lot of other ones, but it didn't leave me alone till I give in and I hoped it would be over after it.

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I was cooking diner for my parents like I have done the last 2 years of my life. It was hard when you where cooking such delicious meals and weren't able to try or even taste any of it, it was torture and I was pretty sure that was what my parents wanted.

That was the only thing they wanted now, to give me pain to make my life a living hell and they where successful and I knew they knew. They would force me to have my quirk on at all times, or what they meant the part where I felt their emotions.

It made me sick how I could feel their happiness and enjoyment in my torment, their hate every time I did something kind or correct. And for me the worst way they would torture me was by letting me feel all the love they had for each other and made me realize I would never be able to receive any of that, which made me crave it even more.

Not wanting to think about that anymore than I knew I always did I went to let myself get lost in the cooking I was still doing. The cooking and cleaning they made me do had always relaxed me it was an escape for me, so at some point I did it willingly.

But that didn't mean life was any easier. I was still starving, but learnt to live with it. I only got a meal in the morning and it was currently evening already so that meant I still had to wait half a day before I got any food again.

I don't know why but seeing that little piece of meat today made me want to pick it up and eat it, normally I didn't think like that because I knew what kind of punishments I could possibly get for thinking about it, but I never really tried and it wasn't like they would see or notice that little piece of meat that was gone.

I reached forward to grab that little peace of food I usually didn't even think about like that, but I withdrew my hand just in time before I could actually grab it. I knew that if I had it my hand and I would have combined it with those thoughts in my head it wouldn't have taken long before it had disappeared inside my mouth and I would have regretted my choice.

But apparently that wasn't what I should have been worried about. "What are you looking at?" I heard my mother voice suddenly hiss behind me, panicked I quickly turned around. One look at her face had me looking down not being able to look into those hateful eyes, I mean I already felt it so why did I need to look her in the eyes and see it too.

"Look at me when I talk to you!" Slowly I lifted my head to have her standing right in front of me. "I won't ask you again what where you looking at?!" "The food" I whimpered. And then I hear her laugh that evil laugh she does when she is about to do something that isn't in my favour.

"Looking at the food, of course you are, you are such a greedy little bitch. We give you so much and this is how you repay us, ungrateful child!" I could feel the lies as clear as day. "Give me your hands," I did as I was told not wanting to angry this woman any more.

She grabbed them roughly into the grip of her hands. "How about we make sure you aren't able to do anything with these hands for a few days, what do you think of that?" She asked me, I didn't want to answer her and that resulted in her pulling my hands harshly to her making my wrists hurt. "Answer me!"

"I think it is a great idea," I whimpered. "Happy to hear we feel the same for ones," she pulled me with her to the stove where I had a pan standing on the fire, I immediately knew what she was going to do and my suspicion was indeed made true the moment she put my hands on the boiling hot surface.

Knowing that if I screamed or cried this was going to be much worse I just let it happen, my hands being damaged because of the burns more and more by the second. After about 10 seconds my mother let go of me completely. "You know we must do this for your own good right, we got to teach you how to obey. That way when you are of age we can sell you to a man who wants you, then we will have money and don't have to worry about you anymore," the worst part of that sentence was the truth and it made me sick.

Then she walked out of the kitchen, but not before telling me she wanted diner ready in half an hour. How was I suppose to do that with both of my hands being damaged. I honestly didn't know, but I knew I had to.

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I was crying and regretting my whole life all through the memory. At some point I just wished I had killed myself when I had the chance, but of course I was to weak to do it and I had had hope that there was someone out there who would care if I died. That's why I never did it I was holding onto hope to much.