The dragonflies tattoist - Freenbecky

Chapter 19

By the fourth month, they were sharing stories.

It was a Sunday, and they really had nothing else to do but make out on Becky's worn-down couch—which doesn't sound so bad until I mention their lips eventually went numb, and they had to pull away for a breather.

"Tell me about them," Becky said, still lying on the couch with Freen's body sprawled over hers, the younger girl's head resting on her chest.

"What do you mean?" Freen looked pretty confused.

"Your real parents, baby... The ones before."

"Milika and Somchai are my real parents," Freen replied.

"No, they're not," Becky countered instantly. "You don't even call them Mom and Dad... You love them, Freen, but you haven't let go of the parents you had before."

Freen sighed, a tear slipping down her cheek because Becky was right.

"Their names were Prae and Anong Chankimha," she began. "They were both really young when they had me... I was actually an accident. They used to say that all the time. Mom was always smoking pot, and Dad smuggled drugs across borders. I was born in Buri Ram, by the way. They were on a 'business trip' when Mom's contractions started. After that, we went back to Bangkok. Sometimes, I'd sleep in the dumpsters in Bangkok. Sometimes, in dumpsters near the border. And sometimes, I wouldn't sleep at all."

She could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks, but still, she kept going. Sometimes, talking is necessary.

"They only kept me around because I helped them make money. They fed me scraps, and I was so thin back then, Becky... They'd insult me, hit me, and spit on me. They never sent me to school."

"Freen, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Becky interrupted gently, clearly worried.

"I want to," Freen insisted, sniffling. "I don't want to hide anything from you. I trust you, Becky."

Silence.

"When May was born, they started treating her just as badly. Luckily, she doesn't remember it. One day, some armed men intercepted the truck my dad was driving us in, along with his drugs. I was in the back with May and all the stuff he was smuggling. They hated May's crying. They killed my mom and dad that day. May and I only survived because we were in the back. The police showed up soon after and found us. They took us straight to an orphanage, and that's where I learned to read and write. It was weird because I was eight, and I was asking the five-year-olds for help. A few days later, I met Milika. She was cleaning the bathrooms. She said that the moment she saw me, she knew she had to adopt me. I asked her to adopt May too, and she just laughed and told me she would have done it even if I hadn't asked."

"Milika must be amazing," Becky murmured, wiping Freen's tears and hugging her like she'd never let go. Like nothing would change in four months.

"She is," Freen nodded. "Milika and Somchai took in Jan when his parents died in a car accident. And Malee used to beg on the streets, singing any song she could... Her heart's so big, Becky. She could've let someone else handle it. She could've..." Becky cut her off with a kiss.

"She didn't, okay? She didn't leave you there. She didn't leave either of you there. Don't think about some other life. Don't imagine a world where you're not here because that would make me think about what my life would be like if you weren't in it," Becky murmured. "What is life without you, Freen?" Her voice cracked like glass hitting the ground.

Freen's heart twisted in her chest, and she awkwardly wrapped her arms around Becky, given their position. She kissed her shoulder, then her lips, and both their hearts beat so fast they might've burst.