I Give Up!

Part One

   Another piece of paper, covered in deeply contemplated words. Balled up. Wrinkled. Disposed of. This one wouldn't do, no matter the changes made.
   Haizea sat back against her bed. This was the seventeenth piece she threw away today. Somehow, she knew, she'd perfect it. By then, she won't have to try anymore. How relieving that will be!
   As she considered trying yet again, the muffled sound of someone knocking on her door from the outside caught her off guard. With haste and slight fear, she shoved away her notebook and pencil. Only when she was performing the act of being "natural" did she consent to the person outside of her room looking in with a little feminine "come in!" Thus the door creaked and shared, through the crack, the light from the hall.

   In a fenced tennis court was a paradise for Haizea. Despite the awful heat, this place was a relief.
   After having finished the day's practice, she took advantage of a metal bench and her somewhat iced water. Her eyes followed her friend Fiore as she drank.
   "Any updates?" Fiore asked, looking drained as Haizea.
   "She almost caught me again," was the answer.
   Fiore looked at Haizea sternly for a moment. "You run into too many scenarios where she could catch you."
   "I know--"
   "Then why are you so persistent? It's an awful idea, Zee." Fiore's eyes reflected how troubled she was now. The girls' eyes could not meet.
   "You know how she is. You've been to my house. You saw her! No mercy. She knew you were there." Haizea's eyes clouded, and she had to take a moment to breathe.
   "Come home with me and we can talk," ordered Fiore.
   Haizea blinked. "I can't do that! She won't let me go!"
   "I didn't tell you to ask her! Just...
   "Go home like normal, and when you find the opportunity, slip out. Please."
   When Haizea hesitated, Fiore pushed on, "We need to talk. We need to."
   Though she was very, very hesitant still, Haizea agreed. Both girls gathered their belongings and headed home.

   The next day was the same old, same old.
   Though, Haizea was a bit tired. She followed through with visiting Fiore the night before, and so far it seemed as though she hadn't gotten caught.
   "Promise me you won't keep up with this," Fiore's voice echoed in Haizea's mind. She was sure this thought made her wince, but she couldn't really tell.
   Oh dear. Haizea sighed. She wanted to please her best friend, she really did. But everything seemed so... Heavy. Fiore wouldn't understand. Her parents are still around. They still love her.
As for me, Haizea began to think, I don't have that. Maybe if I did, things would be different.
   She knew it wasn't nice to stir on this. Surely there are others out there that have it worse than her? Most definitely there are others that have it better. They should be thankful for that!
   Furrowing her eyebrows before trying to relax, Haizea sat back, leaning against the headboard of her bed.
   Is it all as bad as I feel it is? She was pretty sure it was. Though the tiny voice in the back of her mind told her otherwise.
   She made the decision to ignore those thoughts, while pondering her situation.

   Haizea woke herself up to find it getting dark outside. She had fallen asleep, and by the looks of things she had been asleep for at least three hours. Not like she was disappointed, though.
   Shoes tapping on the wood flooring in the hall told her that Zenka was home.
   Collecting herself first, Haizea got out of bed and left her bedroom.
   "Hi," Haizea greeted, smiling a little. Zenka didn't really acknowledge her, though. Save for a peek in the corner if her eye at the white-haired girl. Haizea lost a bit of her cheer, but continued to pry some attention from her stubborn older sister. She followed her to her bedroom. Before Zenka shut her bedroom door, Haizea poked her head in.
   "How was work?" asked Haizea.
   Zenka looked at her and blinked. "Fine." She began to unbutton her shirt without paying any mind to her little sister.
   "Did Clyde ask you out again? I know you said he was considering."
   "No."
   Haizea frowned a little. "That's a bummer."
   Not a word. Not a response. Not even a glance.
   "Will called an--"
   Zenka turned to Haizea. "Get out of my bedroom and go make use of yourself, Haizea! My God you're annoying!" She sighed heavily.
   The little girl took a step back, then closed the door. "I just wanted to talk," she mumbled sadly to herself.
   "I can hear you!" Zenka snapped from behind the closed door. "Whatever you have to say can wait 'till I'm dead."
   Haizea grit her teeth. She could feel the adrenaline racing through her. "You're not the most important person to exist!" she began sharply, "I'm human just like you! I just want to be good for you but you make it so hard!
   "I'm not as awful as you make me feel I am..." Her voice trailed off and she breathed hard, choking on a sob. She couldn't hear anything from her sister. Maybe she was distracted and didn't catch what she said?
   The bedroom door swung open and slammed against the wall. Zenka's eyes were ablaze with rage.
   She heard her. Loud and clear.
   Haizea let out a screaming sob as her sister took her by the hair and dragged her into the room.
   After Haizea was tossed onto the bedroom floor, Zenka slammed the door shut and returned to the crying girl with a powerful kick to the gut. Haizea gasped and cradled her stomach while curling on the floor. She awaited the next move with agony.
   And there it was—a foot met her face without any holding back. For a few minutes more, Zenka beat her little sister mercilessly while yelling curses and threats for "talking back." She had gone numb to seeing her little sister cry years ago. She could cry all she wanted. That would not, could not sway her.
   Haizea sat up and crawled away, trying her best to get to the door and leave.
   She was stopped by a tug on the back of her shirt that lasted long enough for her to be thrown down onto her back. She met her sister's eyes, but nothing changed. She braced herself as she predicted the next blow.

   Haizea's stomach rumbled. She was extremely hungry.
   After last night's episode ended, she headed to her bedroom and locked the door, vowing not to come out until Zenka left for work. This meant she had eaten no dinner. No breakfast. No snacks. Nothing since lunch the day prior.
   Now that she was awake, Haizea slipped slowly out of bed and grabbed a bag that sat under her bed. With this bag in hand, she headed to the bathroom and closed the door, locking it.
   She pulled out some concealer from the bag and began applying it to her face where bruises were most visible. She spent a few minutes covering the purple marks on her face before closing up the concealer, putting it back in her bag, and leaving the bathroom. She took a second in the hallway, trying to determine whether or not Zenka had gone.
   When she didn't hear anything for a while, she thought it safe to assume she had left. This was a major relief to Haizea.
   Once she was in her room again, she changed clothes and headed out of the house. She was off to find a place to relax for a while. Somewhere she could think of things she wanted to think about.
   The tennis court wasn't an option. No, Zenka knew she liked it there. She had go find somewhere different. Somewhere her sister wouldn't expect her to be.
   The coffee shop? No, no.
   Fiore's house? Maybe. Her parents know me, she recalled. And I'm sure they'll let me in for a while.
   Off she was, then, to Fiore's house.
   It took a decent amount of time to get there, which was a bit inconvenient, given Haizea was still quite sore. However her assumptions were correct, and Fiore's parents gladly let her in. As she also expected, Fiore wasn't home. She was probably at her grandparents' house, helping out her grandmother as she often did.
   Haizea admired her friend's kindness and consideration for others.
   "What's got you here, Haizea?" asked Fiore's dad.
   "I just wanted to get out," she answered. "I was pretty bored at home."
   "You don't have anything to do over the summer?"
   Haizea shook her head. "No sir. Other than tennis."
   He seemed a bit surprised. "Speaking of tennis... Fiore can't go today. We're busy this evening."
   "Okay. Thank you." Haizea smiled. "What are you tied up with this evening?"
   He smiled as well. "We're meeting a friend at dinner tonight. He came down here from Europe a couple nights ago and we decided to catch up a little."
   "Oh! What part of Europe?"
   "Germany."

   After a few minutes of chattering, Haizea checked the clock and bid goodbye to Fiore's dad. "I'd stay longer, but Zenka might be angry at me for being late if I hung around," she told him.
   She walked home and made sure Zenka wasn't there before her. She didn't see her car, but she wanted to be sure.
   When Haizea couldn't find her, she went inside through the back door and headed to her bedroom.
   She pulled out her notebook and pencil. Staring at it, she began collecting thoughts.
   Then she wrote away, losing track of time. More and more balls of paper were wadded and tossed as time went by. She was starting to hurt from sitting so much and doing the same thing over and over again.
   She paused when she heard the front door open.
   Zenka was home.
   Immediately her sister was at her bedroom door, knocking.
   "If you're hungry, go buy yourself something. I'm leaving $25 on the kitchen table to use. And you better not come back after an hour with the money still in your hand."
   After hearing Zenka walk away, Haizea got up, tucked her notebook and pencil under her bed, and headed out, grabbing the $25 Zenka left for her on her way.
   She decided to find the nearest, cheapest restaurant. That would probably mean "fast food." But, honestly, she didn't care. She still hadn't eaten anything at this point.
   She was quick to find a little sandwich joint nearby and head inside. After finishing her order, she left and headed back home. She couldn't resist stopping somewhere on her way home to eat. She chose a metal bench, where she didn't stay very long. It was dark out, after all, and she was a lovely little girl who could easily be taken advantage of—even more than she already was, that is.