Girl Meets World drabbles, one-shots, & headcanons

Memories ~ Maya

Her first memory isn't very vivid.
It's just a lot of noise and screaming and slamming doors. She's sitting in her cupboard behind the clothes, crying; her hands tight over her ears, and her knees up to her chest. She doesn't remember much. Just the screaming, the tears on her cheeks, and the darkness of the cupboard.
What she doesn't remember is Katy Hart finding her and pulling her into her arms, and whispering about how much she loves her, as her father disappears into the night, not to return for almost a week.
She must've been just three.

She does remember her fourth birthday vividly though. Her dad forgets the cake, and leaves half way through after dragging Katy to another room and telling her something. She listens outside it, but can't make out their words. He wrenches open the door and almost knocks Maya out of the way as he storms out. She thinks about running after him — he's her dad, and it's her birthday, he's supposed to be there — but instead she turns back to mother. Katy is looking at the slammed door, tears in her eyes, clutching her arm. Maya looks at Katy's arm and can tell he has hit her again. Katy spots her looking and pulls her sleeves down. Blinking back her tears, Katy smiles. You know what's better than a store bought cake, babygirl? She says.
No, what Momma?
A home made one! Katy takes a hold of Maya's hand and squeezes it reassuringly. We can make one now, it'll be extra special. But it turns out they don't have any eggs nor enough flour.
It's okay, Momma, I don't need a cake. She says, touching her mother's arm delicately.
It's your birthday, you're supposed to have a cake, we'll go buy one. Katy stands on a chair to get the emergency money jar from the cupboard. She knows she has no cash in her wallet, she spent it on Maya's birthday present — a set of Derwin's pencils and a notebook. If you can't have a father, you can at least have cake. She thinks Maya doesn't hear that, but she does.
They walk down to the convenience store together and buy the cheapest chocolate cake there is. Together they sit out on the curb and eat the whole thing with plastic forks. It's the greatest cake she's ever had.

She's four again, and he's left again, but this time she knows it different.
There was no fighting, no yelling, no hitting or screaming or slamming doors.
He's just gone.
She's sitting against her mother's door and can hear her crying inside. Maya brings her knees up to her chest and rocks back and forth slowly; her own tears tracing tracks down her cheeks.
Standing up carefully, she opens the door and tiptoes in. She climbs into the bed with Katy, who pulls her into her arms.
Maya strokes her mother's face gently, wiping away her tears.
Momma, would you be happy again if Daddy came back?
No, babygirl, I just need you and me, that's all I need. Katy pulls Maya closer to her and cries silently into her hair.

She's five and a letter has arrived. It's from her father. It's the first thing he's sent them since leaving almost a year ago. Katy cries when she opens it. It's the divorce papers. Maya doesn't know what divorce means and Katy explains it's what people do when they stop loving each other.
She asks why they didn't get one sooner, it doesn't seem like they have loved each other for a long time.
Katy laughs through her tears and pulls Maya into a hug, and rests her head on Maya's. Sometimes people are silly, Katy whispers.

She's six and she's screaming under her covers. The world is ending outside and the sky is angry. But then Katy appears and tells her about the Aurora Borrielis. That night they go on an adventure through the sub-arctic whilst the sky is lit up. It's been a long time since Katy has laughed like that.

She's still six when she finally gets up the courage to ask why her father left. Katy refuses to tell her but she persists anyway.
Look babygirl, I don't know, I have to go to work, now, okay?
But why, Momma?
Katy sighs and kneels down. A daughter should think well of her father. I don't know, Maya, we were fighting a lot and... she sighs. I really need to go baby, she kisses Maya on the forehead, I'll see you later.
She wonders why her mother can't tell her. Maybe she doesn't know, but that's ridiculous, grown-ups know everything. She knows it's to do with the fighting, but why were they even fighting in the first place? You fight when you're angry or you don't like the person. What had her mother done that had made them fight like they used to? And what had been so bad that he had left? Was it her mother's fault? Or was it her fault? Was she a bad daughter?
That night Maya doesn't sleep in her bed, but she sits in her cupboard with her knees drawn up to her chest.
Bad, she whispers, rocking back and forth, bad, bad, bad, bad.

She's eight now, and a boy in her class asks how come her mom or dad never pick her up, and if she has them at all.
She comes back to my house, says Riley, her best friend, defiantly.
Everyday? He asks. Why can't you go back to your own house?
Instead of replying Maya kicks him as hard as she can, and walks away hand in hand with Riley, as their other friend, Farkle, watches on helplessly.
She's sent to the principal's office, who calls her mother. Katy tells the principal she's stuck at work and can't come to pick Maya up. The principal sighs as she hangs up the phone and tells Maya that she needs to stop kicking people, and if she does it once more she'll be in serious trouble.
She's made to sit outside the principal's office for the rest of the day — the perks of being a third-time offender — before Riley's mom, Topanga, picks her up. As Maya walks away from the school with Topanga, she begins to wonder if that boy was right, maybe she doesn't have a mom or dad.

She's nine when she wonders if her mother finally left her too. She waits up all night, until Katy finally gets home at eight the next morning.
Have you been awake all night, babygirl? Katy asks her, horrified.
She nods. Yes, I thought you'd left.
These words break Katy's heart, and she hugs Maya tightly like she hasn't in a long time. She explains to Maya that she just worked an extra shift at the diner because someone was sick. I would never leave you, Maya, never, okay?
Okay, Momma.

She's ten when she finds a letter left unopened on the table. It's addressed to Katy Clutterbucket, which is strange, seeing as Katy hasn't gone by that name since Kermit left. Curiosity gets the better of her and she opens it, careful not to ripe the envelope too much.
It's from her father. It says he is sorry, for everything. It says he has a new family.
He's replaced them. He'd left and replaced them with people he thinks are better.
She stuffs the letter back in the envelope and seals it as neatly as she can.

She's eleven and there is no food in the house, none. She checks the emergency money jar, but that's empty too, it usually is. She looks at the time, it's too late for her to go to Riley's, they would've already have had dinner, and she's too embarrassed to go now. She goes to bed hungry that night, all she's eaten was cereal at Riley's in the morning.
It's not the first time she's gone to bed hungry, but it is the last.

She's thirteen and she's taken a locket from the lost and found. Inside is a photo of a smiling, happy family. She tells Riley her dad sent it to her, but her dad hasn't sent her anything since the letter.
At night she lies in her bed and longs for a family like the one in the photograph. She knows she'll never have one though.
She gives the locker away when she's the family at the subway station — a happy family like that deserve their happy locket.

It's her fourteenth birthday. It's been ten years since she and her mother ate cake on the side of the road. This time Katy's forgotten. She's not there when Maya wakes up, and there isn't even a card or a note wishing her happy birthday.
Riley wants to fix it. Some things can't be fixed, Maya tells her.

It's her fourteenth birthday still, and now she has a locket of her own. Her mother didn't forget, she was working, for the locket. Maya tries not to cry as as hugs her mother after Shawn tells her that it wasn't Katy's fault that Kermit left.
They're standing behind her cake, Katy and Shawn, they tell her to make a wish, and for once, as does.

She's fourteen when she places the photo of her mother and Shawn on her birthday in the time capsule.
Hope is for suckers, she whispers, shutting the lid. Better to keep your hopes and dreams locked up under ground than to actually hope and dream for them.

She's fourteen when she finally sees him again, after ten long years.
It's strange. He is human, not a monster, but he still did those things all those years ago.
She doesn't forgive him, she can't. He doesn't deserve it. But she does forgive herself, after ten long years.

She's fifteen when Shawn asks Katy to marry him. They're all in the Matthews' living room waiting for Katy's answer.
Yes.
She watches as they kiss and embrace, tears trickling down her cheeks, as she clutches Riley, smiling. Katy and Shawn stand up and she runs into their arms, I love you, she whispers into them, and they hug her tighter. We love you too.

She's still fifteen when they get married, and she can not remember ever seeing her mother this happy and radiant. She watches them pledge their love to each other, and her heart bursts with pure joy, for they are so happy and so in love.
Am I your daughter now? She asks Shawn after the ceremony.
That's how I'd like to think of you, he replies, is that okay?
She smiles. That is the most okay thing ever.
She looks at her mother and Shawn and remembers it all, every moment that ever led up to this one, and realises that all of them, every single one, even the bad ones, were worth it to finally see her mother this happy.