A New Family

The Calm Before the Storm

Two weeks later

My parents had been acting really, really strange lately. They were actually being nice for once. Like, no abuse of any kind. I suppose I should have been rejoicing or at least happier, but I wasn't excited by this at all. Instead, I was unbearably uneasy. Their lack of anger seemed to me like the calm before a storm. I was even more on edge than any other given day.

That morning, I got out of bed on my own. Normally, my parents would slap me awake or something, but not that day for some reason. I cautiously wandered downstairs to find that breakfast was made and ready to be eaten together at the table like a normal family might do. The meal passed without incident or even insult. Strange.

Lunch came a few hours later. I was sitting silently on the couch watching some animated movie when my mother came into the living room rather quickly. "Chiko!"

I jumped. Here it was, the inevitable storm that came after the days of quiet. "Y-yes, Mommy?" I whimpered.

"Can you come help me make lunch, dear?"

I paused and subconsciously frowned. Help with lunch? Was that code for something?

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were watching a movie! I can finish it on my own," she said sweetly while gently squeezing my shoulder, just like a normal mom would do.

Okay, now I was confused. Maybe she was being nice because she wasn't drunk for once, or maybe they realized that hurting me was wrong. Could it really just be an act? Or maybe the neighbors heard and called the cops, so my parents were pretending to be nice to get out of prison time..... Who knows?

Mom finished lunch by herself without complaint. The three of us ate in the dining area in what seemed to me to be an awkward silence. Afterwards, Mommy asked me to do the dishes with Daddy. I was still unsure of whether or not I was in danger, so I agreed without hesitation.

Daddy and I breezed through the dishes. He didn't try to start any conversation - I was more than okay with that. I don't know what I would say if he tried to have a conversation with me. "How am I doing? Not great, to be honest. Those cuts from four days ago really hurt, you know?" That wouldn't work at all.

After the dishes were done, I ran upstairs to clean my room. Mommy and Daddy never liked when my room wasn't absolutely spotless, so I needed to fix it up a bit.

Daddy came upstairs before I could finish cleaning. "Oh, Daddy, I'm not done yet!" I explained hurriedly. His face got a bit red - anger, maybe? - but it faded a second later.

"It's fine," he said tightly. "I came to ask where you might want to go for dinner tonight. We're all going out. It's up to you to decide."

"Really?" I breathed. Daddy nodded. I thought good and hard before suggesting the local Italian restaurant. Daddy agreed before leaving the room.

Why did Daddy seem angry? Did I do something wrong? Not that that ever stopped him in the past...... Thinking of the abuse made me stop and think for a moment after assuring myself that my room was as clean as it could be.

I plopped down on my bed and stared at the exposed skin on my arms and legs. My limbs were riddled with scars, cuts, and yellowing bruises. Mommy and Daddy always made me wear pants and long sleeved shirts to hide the marks. My face, hands, and neck were scarred as well, but that's where makeup came in. Mommy always bought a lot of concealer. It worked surprisingly well.

Staring at the scars made too many memories come back, so my eyes began tearing up against my will. I internally prayed that my parents wouldn't walk in right then, but luck wasn't on my side apparently.

"Chiko-chan, let's go!" Mommy said while sauntering into my room. When she saw my glassy teal eyes, her jaw tightened ever so slightly. Of course she was mad at that; crying was always her least favorite thing ever. "Stop crying and let's go," she hissed while grabbing me by the arm and forcefully pulling me to my feet. I grimaced but obeyed. At least it wasn't serious abuse this time.....

The drive to the restaurant and the meal were incredibly, uncomfortably silent. I decided to finally ask about the past couple days of painlessness.

"Mommy, Daddy, how come you stopped hitting me? And why are you being so nice?" I asked quietly. I thought I was being gentle enough, but I was so wrong.

"What, are you saying you want to get hurt?" Daddy yelled.

"You actually want us to be mean?" Mommy screamed.

"Fine, you'll get your wish!"

Mommy ripped the seatbelt off of me and dragged me into the front seat of the still-moving car. She threw the passenger side door open and launched me out into the street at a very high speed.

I tumbled across the rocky asphalt for a few feet before sliding to a stop in the lane closest to the sidewalk. I remained perfectly still so as not to further injure myself somehow.

"How'd you like that, you little bitch?!" I vaguely heard from down the street. Mommy was yelling out the window as Daddy drove away, leaving me for dead.

I began to assess myself for injuries. Nothing felt broken, but nothing felt good either. My eye was swollen shut, I knew that for sure. Scrapes all over. Incredibly sore. I was fairly sure some cuts reopened. But overall, I would live. That is, if I got out of the street.

I tried and tried to crawl out of the way, but I was far too sore to get anywhere. All of the sudden, the door of the building I was in front of shot open, revealing a frantic-looking older lady.

"Oh, you poor dear! Here, let me help you," she exclaimed as she started running towards me. Her sudden movement caused me to flinch and try my best to back away from her. When she saw me flinch, she immediately froze. "Ah, I see what's going on. Poor baby is just like Mika..." she murmured. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Okay? I'm just going to get you out of the street and into my orphanage to fix you up a bit. Is that alright?" I nodded hesitantly. The old lady slowly walked towards me so as not to scare me off. She tried helping me to my feet but ended up carrying me when that didn't work.

The inside of the orphanage was the exact opposite of what I expected an orphanage to look like. I expected dirty cement floors and chipped walls. What I actually saw was a warm, welcoming place with children's drawings on the walls and toys piled in a corner - rather inviting. The lady set me down carefully on a soft, oversized couch then ran off to grab medical supplies. When she returned and began to patch me up, she started to question me.

"What's your name?"

"Sachiko," I responded quietly.

"Ah, what a beautiful name, and so fitting for such a pretty girl," she said kindly. "How old are you?"

"Seven and a half."

"Alright. Now, how did you get all these scars?" she queried gently. I couldn't respond. Mommy and Daddy said I could never tell anyone, or else.....

"How about a different question then," the lady suggested a moment later. "Were those your parents back there?"

"......Yeah."

"I see," she whispered. "Well, Sachiko-chan, how would you like to stay here in the Hyakuya Orphanage from now on?"

"But I'm not an orphan!" I blurted.

"Yes, well, we take in other children as well. We have plenty of room, and lots of kids for you to make friends with. What do you think?"

I thought for a minute or so while she finished bandaging me. Staying here meant I would never have to deal with Daddy or Mommy again. But it also meant I would have to meet all new people - something I wasn't very good at. But, no more abuse...... "I'll do it!" I grinned.

"Lovely! Allow me to show you to your new room. Oh, and you'll have to change your surname to Hyakuya, alright?" she chirped. I nodded happily. "Perfect. By the way, I'm the director. If you ever need anything, find me."

I was ecstatic to be in a new house. I was also more than a little bit nervous to meet everyone else, but that was an issue to deal with tomorrow. For now, I was home.