Just a Background Character

Chapter 8: Treacherous Past

Hannah's POV-

  I waddled into the kitchen. I was 4 years old and underdeveloped. My mom was eating something I couldn't identify.

"Hi Mama! What you eating?" I squeaked

"None of your concern." Mama retorted.

"I hungry!" I cried.

Mama got up and walked over to a cabinet. She unlocked the lock on the cabinet, and took out a single packet of stale crackers. She tossed them to me. I grabbed them hungrily. She came over to me, and grabbed my arm roughly.

"Hannah?" Mama asked me in a sickly sweet voice.

"You hurt me." I whispered.

"Oh sorry." Mama released the grip on my arm.

"It okay." I responded.

"Good. Now Mama has to go out, okay?" Mama told me gently.

I only nodded my head. Mama picked me up, and walked over to my room. She opened the door. In laid a small single bed. The mattress had tears in it, and only a single blanket covered it. The blanket was thin and held many holes. A tiny basket filled with small toys sat at the end of the bed. This was my room. My home. Mama placed me on the bed. She opened my crackers and sat them beside me. She left the room, locking me in this room. Leaving me alone.

I was 7.. I had just turned 7 actually. It was my birthday. I giggled excitedly. My birthday! I sat up in my bed quickly, and threw off the blanket covering me. I jumped up out of bed. I landed on the cold floor. I was only wearing an old, ragged shirt. My hair was ragged and dirty, but I didn't mind. I opened the door slowly, and creeped out of my room into the hallway. I hurried down the hallway, past the kitchen, and to the living room. Dada sat on the couch. He looked at me.

"What do you want?" Dada snarked.

"It's my birthday Dada!" I smiled proudly.

"That's not something to be proud of or celebrate." Dada rolled his eyes.

I only looked at my feet. Why isn't it something to celebrate or be proud of? Aren't you supposed to celebrate birthdays, and be proud your older? Mama walked into the living room.

"It's my birthday Mama!" I exclaimed to her.

"Thats nice." Mama muttered.

"Clara! Don't encourage her ugly chattering!" Dada hissed.

"It's okay Bob. It's her birthday, let her have one good day." Mama defended me.

She defended me! I almost let out a shrill of joy. Mama turned to me.

"Do you want a present Hannah bug?" Mama asked sweetly.

"P-Present?" I stuttered happily.

"Yes, a present. Do you want one?" Mama asked in the same tone of voice.

"Little brat doesn't deserve nothing." Dada muttered under his breath, but I barely heard him.

"Yes!" I beamed.

"Follow me." Mama hurried out of the room.

I ran after her; my small legs struggling to keep up. We stopped in the kitchen. Mama walked over to a cabinet and opened it. She took out two poorly, newspaper wrapped packages. She handed them to me.