S.O.S

Chapter Three - Bruising Heart

I was sitting on a bench in the park where I was at after I got punched in a gloomy Saturday morning. Many kinds of people were there, couples, the elderlies, kids playing on the swings, running around here and there. I chuckled when one of them fell over and cried.

I got a little flashback when I was their age, I got my first bruising knee at 5 when I fell from a damn swing, not the one in this park to be exact. Why? Steph pushed me off. I didn't cry back then, I knew no one would care for me no matter how loud I cry. Maybe little Cody would, but he wasn't there. Among the people in the house, I could say Cody is the nicest one to me since I first came in.

As I grew older, I've got plenty of bruises to be honest. Being thrown by a chair, hit by gigantic baseball stick - I was 10 back then and was tiny as a lost starving little kitten so it was huge enough to hit me, fell over stuff, been there done that. I admit I wasn't so nice as a kid tho. Never did much but as the lion doesn't make much noise when it hunts its prey, does it?

I'm used to the pain.

I'm accustomized to being hurt. I don't have much time to care about a picture perfect skin like Steph or many other girls do, I've got too many hit marks here and there. Some have faded, some remain. Funny how looking at it brings back memory from the old days, not so good ol' days.

Maybe it's true how the past can really affect somebody's upcoming life, how their character was built it depends on their past.

I never really thought about finding or meeting my parents, there is no way to let them see me grown up as a total mess like this. It's not that I never thought of them a bit, the fact is sometimes I do, just rarely.

The last time I asked Tia about my mom was at Steph's 6th birthday. Tia never wished me a happy birthday while she could organize a birthday bash for Steph. I was honestly jealous back then.

"Mama, why do you always forget my birthday?" little me asked.

"Excuse me," she laughed sarcastically, "it's not me who's responsible for your birth, why should I memorize shit like that?"

"Then where's the one who's responsible for my birth? Where is my mom?" my eyes watered.

"She," Tia grabbed the back of my hair, "is fucking dead, Jeanette. Your little slut of a mother is fucking dead!" she yelled right at my face.

"But why? Why did she die, how did she die? I never know a thing about her." I began to cry.

Tia took her grip off my hair and looked away, she squeezed her hand and tightened it as I could see her knuckles turned white. For a moment I thought she was going to punch me.

"She couldn't stand having a rat like you." she emphasized every word to my face and left little me there, crying my heart out.

What have I done? I thought. What could an infant do to stress out her mom to death? She died when I haven't even turned a year old.

---

I spent my Saturday going out by myself, wandering the street following where my feet would take me to. I'd finished two cups of black coffee in the past 3 hours which I got from two different coffee shops. I haven't had lunch, my stomach growled like there were dragons raging inside my tummy. I stopped by a burger stall to get some cheeseburger and curly fries.

"Are you... Jeanette?"

For fuck's sake, can't anybody remember my actual name? Enough already with Tia and now this burger guy? Please.

"No," I looked up and met his gaze. Ah, I recognize that look. I chose to keep my straight face.

"Oops, sorry. Your face, it kind of reminds me of my friend from primary school." he laughed as he handed my meal then shook his hair awkwardly.

"You mean Janet Grant?" I asked as I took my meal off his hand and raised my eyebrows. I smirked a little bit at him.

"Gosh, Janet! I'm so sorry, you know we haven't talked forever I almost forgot your name but you haven't changed a bit, huh? Just, a little taller?" he said happily then he stepped out of the cashier table to get a closer look at me.

"What, Andrew, you expect me to stop growing and remain 3'5 for the rest of my life?"

That, as he has mentioned previously, was my long lost mate from primary school. He was the only person who never made fun of me, not even once. We were both like the underdogs back then, I can still picture young Andrew with his blonde curly top, his round Harry Potter like glasses and his major front teeth gap, I'm sure I could put my finger in that. It's almost seven years I haven't seen this guy and well, the gap has been minimized quite much but I could still see the depth of his mouth when he talked and his glasses, weren't so Harry Potter like anymore.

He was also the only person - except Tia and my cousins of course - who knew how messed up my whole life's been. He was the only creature I could run to when the family were being mean to me. Years went by and I got to know him even better, and he turned out to have the same problem as I do. He never knew who his dad was either.

"So, have you heard anything about you dad yet?" I asked him as I took a bite of my cheeseburger.

He shrugged, "I thought I did, but I didn't. Have you? I mean both of your parents."

"They're dead, remember?"

"Uhh," there was a few seconds of break before he continued, "your mom is, but your dad... you said your dad was..."

Right, my dad.