Don't Play With Fire (Turks FFVII)

XXXVIII) Twenty-Four Years

SO SORRY ABOUT THE LATE UPDATE! THAT WAS THE FASTEST TWO WEEKS OF MY ENTIRE LIFE AND I JUST REALIZED IT'D BEEN 14 DAYS SINCE MY LAST UPDATE... OOPS!

ANYWAY, HERE SHE IS!

Twenty-four years ago, I was brought into the world by Taavi and Jonathan McGrail. They named me Annabelle, my grandmother's name. I already had an older brother, Mike, who was two years older. Three more children would follow in the years to come.

Tseng advised his sister not to marry Jonathan long before marriage was in the picture. She didn't listen, lost in infatuation with a young Midgar man with sparkling eyes and big dreams to become the next world-dominating scientist. Tseng was only nine when they married, but he could tell that their relationship would end only in pain and bitterness. When she refused to listen, he refused to be a part of her life any longer.

I first heard the voices at three years old. They all came from the same source, but they all held different emotions. Some were angry, some protective, some sad, and others were warm and nurturing. At first, it scared me. I would scream and cry and demand that my parents find the woman hiding in my bedroom, but each time Taavi dismissed it as attention-seeking and put me back to bed. If it was daytime, I would be spanked and placed in a corner until I calmed down. She never understood, fearing the unknown. I could hardly blame her.

Mike used to lock me in closets and cabinets when my parents were out just to antagonize me. I would beg for mercy, not for fear of the dark, but for fear of the visions I was shown by the voices. I saw my family die over and over and over again, perhaps in a hundred different ways before I reached six years. By then, I knew exactly what death felt like, and it was terrifying.

Once my mother caught me conversing with the voices, she decided enough was enough. She sent me to Hojo with my father in hopes of finding a cure before it was too late. But it was. I was beyond fear. I wanted to know more about what Jenova had shown me. All the flames and the blood and the screaming... I wanted to know why. Hojo let me voice those questions, taking notes and asking for clarification. I thought he wanted to fix me, but all he was after was a new section of his thesis involving Jenova cells.

When I was eight, the twins were born. The year prior, my father turned to alcohol and spent most of his time stumbling around the Shinra labs or sleeping on the couch. My parents hardly spoke anymore, and my mother started spending suspicious amounts of time away from her children. After having her third and fourth children, Taavi decided she needed help that her drunkard husband couldn't give her—she called Tseng for the first time in twelve years. He'd been training with Turks at the point and he decided to answer her cries for help, showing up on our doorstep as a long lost relative in the eyes of me and Mike.

"I need your help, Tseng. You can say you told me so all you want, but Jonathan's no use, and I can't raise four kids on my own."

"I told you it wasn't right."

"Yes, well, it wouldn't be so hard if not for Anna." She sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear and letting her shoulders slump. "She's... different. She's still hearing voices and I think it might be because of what Jonathan did to himself in that lab."

"... I'm not raising your problem child for you."

"Tseng, please. I'm not asking you to. I just need a little help every once in a while."

"I'm working for Shinra now, Taavi. I don't have time for—"

"You don't have to remind me of your betrayal." She scowled, eyes sharp and voice laced with hatred directed at the Turks. "What're you going to do, hold me at gunpoint and demand I get a divorce? The kids will still be here." She placed her hands on top of his, begging. "Please."