That's The Way Of It

8: Brenna & Wooyoung's Beginning

Summary:
A look back at the past.

How did Brenna and Wooyoung both become orphans? How did they find each other?

Chapter Text
It was a dreary day, cold and rainy. The winter was season fast approaching. Cars drove quickly down the road, not realizing nor caring that the splashing water from their tires was soaking through a small pair of kids shoes. The bus stop side walls did little to block the cold air coming though the open front. Rain pattered down from the roof, dripping in a steady staccato that seemed to be never-ceasing.

Inside the bus stop, a girl around the age of seven was sitting on the bus stop bench, huddled into a thick adult sized jacket that her mother had wrapped around her small shoulders some hours earlier, breath fogging up in front of her face every time that she exhaled. The girl's shoes were soaked through from the passing cars and her little arms and legs were bent up against her body, the jacket pulled down over them to try to keep in the little heat that was there to treasure. The girl's chin-length brown hair was tangled, un-brushed in, well, who could even remember the amount of days.

Her little upturned nose was red and leaking while her wide greens eyes stared nervously ahead, looking for any sign that her mother would be back as she had promised. Her mother had never been gone this long and this girl didn't understand what was going on. The little child's stomach rumbled loudly, seeming as thought breakfast that morning had been days ago. She buried her face into her teddy bear, Mr. Worthington, inhaling the lingering scent of her mother's favorite rose perfume.

The child watched as people of all ages and sizes came and people went, no one bothering to pay much attention to the child that looked like a half drowned rat. Perhaps it was because people were too self-absorbed to notice when something was wrong with someone else, or perhaps it was simply because when they looked at the girl they saw nothing more than a vagrant. It could have even been because when they looked at her, they were reminded that the world is not the wonderful place that people want to it to be, and thus their guilt made their eyes skim over her shivering form, turning their back against the cruelties of the universe, thinking, "'I'm glad that's not my family," and yet not caring enough to do something about it.

"I'll be back in just a little bit," the girl's mother had said that morning at the bus stop, as she wrapped her own jacket around the child. "I have something important that I have to do, so just sit here and wait for me."

"I wanna go Mama," the girl had whined, a tiny hand clutching her mother's pretty brown skirt.

The mother leaned down and smoothed the girl's hair back off of her face and gently kissed her forward.

"My little love, you cannot come with me this time, I'm sorry baby. Stay here, I'll be back. I promise you that I'll be back."

The young girl watched as her mother climbed the bus steps, her brown skirt swishing in the cold wind, and walked to the last seat on the bus. Her mother waved from the back window until the bus was completely out of sight, a sad look on her pretty features.

Night had fallen and the child felt numb, tears falling onto her red, wind-kissed cheeks. She closed her eyes, her little body overly exhausted from the vigilance that she had kept that day. Just as she was about to slip into slumber she felt a gentle and warm hand on her cheek. Opening her eyes, she saw an old Grandmother-looking woman hovering over her.

"Come child," the woman had said, "I'm here to get you. Let's go get you something warm to eat, okay?"

Warily the young girl slipped her cold hand into the warmth of the older woman's, her wariness somewhat disappearing at the prospect of warmth and food.