daylight || mha

[ six ] numbing numbers

~*~

"stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters, collected the pieces and picked out a dagger"

~*~

She followed the tall woman through the long corridors. Her hands gripped the hem of her light blue dress. The light blue was almost grey with how washed out it had become and it was full of dirt too. The ceiling was high, the few lights were familiarly clinical. She didn't know why they seemed so familiar. She looked up to the ceiling where the light cast shadows that looked like dark arms winding around her. It felt like she was trapped under them, like the shadows waited their turn to grab her and take her away.

Step after step her legs trembled. She didn't like the tall woman. She hadn't smiled once and her eyes were dark and cold. Her eyes fell onto the tiles beneath her. She didn't like looking at the ceiling or the woman, so she started counting the lines on the floor that she passed. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Twent–

"Go inside." The woman had a cold voice.

She looked up at a tall, white door. Everything was white here, she thought. She opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. The woman turned the light on. The same sickish white engulfed the small room. There was a bed to the right and a small cabinet to the left. Everything was white. The blanket, the small pillow and the small nightdress that lay on the bed. There was also a small door to the left, but she didn't know what it led to.

"These will be your quarters from now on." The woman said.

She looked at her. She didn't understand what was going on. She didn't remember why she was here or how she had gotten here. She had woken up here in some dark room and some strange masked people had brought her to the woman.

"Go on."

The woman placed a hand on her back and led her into the room. She sat on the bed, the woman stood before her. She had dark hair, but her roots were starting to turn gray. She didn't seem that old, but her stern face placed early wrinkles on her face. Her eyes were brown, but cold. Her lips pursed in focus.

She was scanning the young girl before her. She looked frail. Her scrawny arms hung limp beside her torso. Her eyes were red and puffy from having cried. She knelt before the young girl.

"Kanashii Makoto." She said. " That will be your name from now on."

The girl looked at the woman. Did she not have a name? Why did she need a new one? Tears welled up in her eyes.

"I don't want a new name." She cried. "I want to go home!"

Her tears rolled off her cheeks and dropped to the floor. It was cold in here, Kanashii thought.

"Don't cry." The woman said. "You don't have a home. Your mother and father sold you to some very dangerous people and I brought you here to save you from them. Your parents didn't want you."

Her Mother? Her Father? She couldn't place any faces with these words, but there was warmth. Mother sounded like a soft word. Like someone stroking her hair and a soft melody. Father sounded comforting and gentle, like a warm hug in a cold night.

They didn't want her.

She felt a cold shiver run down her back. All the warmth subsided as she looked back into the woman's eyes. There was no trust in these eyes, Kanashii knew that, but she had saved her. She wasn't here, because she wasn't wanted. She sat atop this bed, the blankets rough texture scratching against her bare thighs, because this woman had saved her.