Through Chaos and Order | Shota Aizawa

Seventeen

Wide, cerulean eyes stared forward, looking at nothing; no one. How could she? She was alone, in her bed, encompassed in a darkness whose purpose was to drown her until she reached slumber.

It was her own desire to sleep, yet her eyes are forced and held open by a distraction not even she could disregard. Prohibition of rest due to this very reason was something she was very used too, so there was no attempt to be made to cancel out the noise, for she tried many times before in the past, and would always fail. She eventually gave up, and stays awake, mind active, until the sounds give up, and she can be embraced by quietude.

It might be a bit though until she is blessed with this, for this fight seems to be a big one, from what she can hear.

The loud voices were muffled due to her closed door, but just from hearing their tones, shivers roved up her spine, and she dug herself deeper into her comforter, an indescribable fear congesting her tiny, immature frame.

She was scared, but not for herself. She was scared for her family; her parents specifically, unknowing of how this argument would end.

Her four-year-old brain could not perceive or understand why her parents were so angry with each other and fighting, and why it has been happening more than usual for the past few weeks, especially after they put her down to bed, or are alone. The child was used to this behavior; throughout her short years, her mother and father seemed to always behave this way towards each other on the occasion, but it was happening much more often now.

She never knew what they would argue about, for their speech was always muffled, or she didn't understand the words they were speaking.

She was confused, but what she did know was the emotions she felt during these altercations between her parents.

At such a young age, she knew the feeling of fear and feebleness very well, and she was compelled to experience these unknown feelings by herself. In her heart, she knew it was not a good idea to leave the security of her bedroom during these fights to seek comfort from her parents, which is all she had to calm her.

All she knew in this moment was significant trepidation, and no matter how hard she tried to switch her thoughts to something pleasant in attempt to calm herself, she failed. During these events, it's like she can't help but feel anything but negative sentiments, and she didn't understand why.

For the past few months, ever since she turned four, the child has exhibited extremely bipolar behavior, making her parents walk on thin ice when she is in their presence. Tonight, as she lies in her bed, a thought occurs to her that maybe the reason they were fighting so much is because of her. She was aware of her own behavior, how she can be overly happy and calm one second, and vexed or depressed the next. She didn't understand why her emotions were this way, and why she couldn't necessarily control it. Her mind was simply too undeveloped to connect the dots and understand what was happening to her, but not only to just her, but to her family.

    They were falling apart. She doesn't see her father that much anymore, and whenever he was home, she would always greet him with enthusiasm only to be turned away and disregarded. Though her memory is lacking, she remembers a time when he would be ecstatic to see her, and when he would actually hug her, kiss her, and hold her hand out in public.

    He hasn't set a loving hand on her in quite a while.

    His behavior has also changed. He is much more aggressive, and has become an alcoholic, not that her innocent mind knew that. The only thing running through her head that would explain his behavior lately is. . .

Is it my fault?

. . .

Does he not want me anymore?