Wishing Bell

Ch.10 Past

A day had already passed since Bell's mysterious vanishing. I scoured every possible place in search of her, but to no avail. The guilt was mine alone; I had unjustly accused Bell of deeds unknown to her. My anger at the time was merely a feeble excuse. I must locate her before dawn; if not, Miss Elsa's fate is sealed, and yet, where to find Bell remains a mystery. Aisha alone has the means to find her, but she too has eluded me since yesterday. Time is slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

Seated at my desk, I pondered my next move, but the truth was stark—I was a helpless fool, lost in how to right my wrongs. It was then that a knock at my door roused me from my reverie.

"White, hey White! Open up, it's me, Zen," called a voice from beyond the threshold.

Hearing the summons, I rose and swung the door wide to reveal Zen and Shu, clad in their school uniforms.

"What brings you here? I'm sorry, but can you return later?" I asked, my voice weary.

"Zen's expression was tinged with genuine concern as he said, 'I've been worried about you.' His gaze then shifted as he continued, 'And Shu, she too expressed her care. She asked if she could accompany me, eager to ensure you were alright.'"

"But Hey dude, what's happened to you? You look like the walking dead," Zen remarked, his concern palpable.

The truth was, I hadn't slept a wink, having spent the night in a fruitless search for Bell. Perhaps my exhaustion was evident, but rest was a luxury I could not afford—not with Miss Elsa's dire situation weighing on my mind.

"Why haven't you been answering calls? And disappearing from school without a word—you know we were worried," Zen pressed.

"White, if something's wrong, tell us. We're here to help," Shu offered gently.

"Zen, Miss Elsa... Miss Elsa," I began, but my words were choked by a sudden tightness in my chest.

"White, you don't look well. Are you okay?" Shu inquired, stepping closer.

I struggled to speak, but my voice was a mere whisper, my vision clouding, my breaths shallow. The voices of Zen and Shu began to fade, and darkness crept into the edges of my sight until I succumbed to unconsciousness. Zen caught me as I fell.

"Hey, White... Whi..." Zen's voice trailed off.

"White! White!" he called out.

"We need to get him to bed. He's passed out from exhaustion," Shu declared.

As they laid me down, Shu turned to Zen, "We need to do something to help him."

"Yes, I know, but we're in the dark about why White's so troubled. He mentioned Miss Elsa—has something happened to her?" Zen pondered aloud.

"Who is Miss Elsa? Part of White's family?" Shu queried, a note of surprise in his voice.

"You're not aware? She's the one who took him in when he was just a child, around eight years old," Zen explained.

"Adopted..." Shu murmured, taken aback by the revelation.

"Well, I don't know much either, except the fact that he was adopted by Miss Elsa," Zen said, his voice trailing off into the silence.

As I lay there, unconscious, a dream took hold of me—a vivid replay of my life's moments, each memory flickering like an old film before my eyes.

I remember my grandmother's words, her voice a soft echo from the past. She told me how my mother had loved a man deeply. They were in their third year together when life decided to surprise them—my mother was pregnant. Joy painted her days bright, but the man, he couldn't accept me. He pushed for an abortion, but my mother, strong and resolute, refused. So, he left.

Life after birth was a duet of care from my mother and grandmother. But as the days turned to months, and months to years, my mother's spirit dimmed. She clung to a hope that he would return, and in that waiting, she lost herself to drink and drugs.

At the age of five, her words to me ceased. I never understood why, and my grandmother would only say, "Your mother is busy." Arguments about me became the background music of our home.

Time marched on, and at eight, I faced the world without my grandmother. She had been my shield when my mother's silence grew heavy. I think she believed I was the reason he left.

Then came the day my mother told me we were going somewhere. She led me to a place, told me to wait, and promised to return. But she never did. Day after day, I waited.

Alone and frightened, I wept endlessly, my cries echoing unheard by my mother. I subsisted on the scraps offered by strangers, discarded and forgotten.

One day, as the heavens wept, I sought refuge from the relentless rain. Amidst my search, a girl with raven locks, clad in her school attire, approached and shielded me with her umbrella. Her smile, radiant as a beacon, she offered, "Come, share my Umbrella, lest the cold embrace you."

Beneath her umbrella, I found solace. Her identity and motives were mysteries to me. She conversed with me, a distraction from the downpour. Confusion reigned within me.

"What's your name? Why do you wander in the rain?" she inquired, her voice soft as silk.

"I... I am White," I confessed, revealing only my name. My heart faltered, how could I divulge that my own mother had abandoned me?

"Are you lost? Tell me where you reside, and I shall guide you home," she proposed.

"I don't know," I replied, my voice laden with sorrow.

Pondering my response, she suggested, "Perhaps the police station can aid us."

"I'd rather not," I resisted.

The thought of returning to my mother, who harbored no love for me, was unbearable. I was the unwelcome burden, the source of her despair.

"Why?" she pressed.

Yet, I remained silent, words fleeing from me.

She sought an answer, but seeing my distress, she refrained from further questions.

As we spoke of trivial matters, the rain ceased, and the skies cleared. It was time for me to forage for sustenance. I expressed my gratitude to the girl for her kindness. As I departed...

"Wait, White! If you lack a home and shun the police's aid, why not join my family?" she called out.

Her invitation astounded me. I had anticipated aid in the form of food or money, but never a home. Her words moved me to tears, a gesture of pure compassion.

With a heart heavy with past sorrows, I embraced the offer before me. Uncertainty clouded my judgment, yet the need for solace, for a family's tender balm to soothe the scars etched deep within my soul, outweighed the whispers of doubt. In that moment, it was not just an offer I accepted, but a promise of healing, a hope to mend the fragmented pieces of my heart.

"Ah, an oversight on my part," she said, her lips curving into a warm smile. "My name is Elsa, but feel free to call me 'Big sis.'"