Not One Of Us (An Elfen Lied Fanfic)

Chapter Eleven : Birth Of A Monster

"You see, we're really.... Runaways. We've been running from our foster parents for a long time now. We're actually searching for our other sister now.... We're really worried about her, she kind of has a history you know? She's the oldest. Yusa is worried sick and its made her very frail when she already has had health problems, it's why you might see her stumble when she walks from time to time." Midori said.

Midori, you are a smart little girl...

Mato nodded with a concerned look on her face.

"Those scars... Did your foster family abuse you?"

Midori bit her lip and started to look like she was about to cry.

Midori, you don't have to tell her what happened to us. Not if it'll hurt you.

"Our foster family beat my big sisters a lot. My foster father.... Hurt me.... On the bed, and -" Midori stopped talking when Mato suddenly hugged her.

"Shushhhh. It's okay. You're okay. Yusa is here and I'm here and Shinchi, oh yeah you haven't met him, well you will and we're all here. We're gonna find your other big sister as well and you will all be fine." Mato said softly while stroking Midori's hair.

Midori really looked like she might break down. Just a minute ago she looked like she wanted to kill Mato and now...

You underestimated the power of human kindness, Midori. It's contagious. A disease. And you never want the cure.

Now that I think about it, she actually told the truth. She bended it and stretched it, of course, but still kept the heart of the truth there.
I'm really proud.

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I looked down at the guns and knives in my collection and a small smile came to my face. This job was perfect for getting contraband smuggled into the country express-like. Even if the director thinks 38 will get him closer to Lucy, it's always good to have a backup plan. Diclonius are not known for being so easy to manipulate when in pairs. They're going to throw everything into this operation to get Lucy back, I already know it. But you know what? I don't want her back. I want her fucking dead.

I stepped away from my collection and looked behind me to my living room. Hundreds of lit candles formed around the corners of the room, illuminating the darkness with an eerie amber glow. On the wall, hoisted high, was a large painting. It was of me and my parents. I was still small and ignorant. Smiling and unaware. My mother was pregnant at the time with my sibling. My father was ecstatic for a new child and celebrated by throwing huge parties at our villa every month before the baby's arrival. My mother was close to tears at the thought of me having someone to play with and care for.

I still remember how she would rub her stomach and laugh when I got curious at the sight. She would say, "Mirai, don't you wanna feel the baby kick?" I would nod and cautiously come forward, as if just the mere mention of me coming closer would bring harm to the baby.
I put my hand to my mother's stomach and felt the small but intense kicks.
"Hey little baby, it's me. Your older sister. I can't wait to meet you baby." I would whisper.

My mother started to get very ill at the end stages of her pregnancy. She opted to keep the baby's sex a secret but her doctor and my father pressured her to finally go in for an ultrasound. They revealed something horrible in that appointment. I would be having a little sister and she would be disfigured. I was fine with this but for some reason, my mother took it badly. She would keep glancing at the ultrasound photo on the fridge until she snatched it off and starting staring for hours. She would mutter, "You're not mine. You're not mine. You're not mine." Over and over and over again.

When my mother went into labor, she had to have a c-section because the child was too big for the birth canal. When my little sister was born, my mother refused to hold her. She screamed at the doctors and told them to "get that thing away from me". My little sister was allowed to come home later on. My father was emotionally spent from my mother's behavior and my mother was a shell of her former self. I went to my little sister's crib to finally get my first look at her.