I was thirteen when my mom died. Her life was taken away by a man I never met before. She was the brightest woman I have ever met. Her hair was brown and curly. She had bright green eyes and a heart of gold. The day she left was one of the worst moments in my life.
I stared at her stone-cold body with tears waiting to come out. My bright blue eyes sparkled with every tear that ran down my cheek. I was tempted to run out of the room but decided not to. I didn't want to look weak in front of my step-dad, Charles. He didn't treat me well, but I was ordered by him to like him. He was a strong man with a bad temper. He already had a s
...on, Tim, and a daughter, Elizabeth. Elizabeth was also strong and so was Tim. They both took after their dad. But I, Abbey Chin, was the unwanted child. I never understood the reason why my mom married him, was it because she was scared? I knew why. He hit me without my mom knowing and Elizabeth and Tim went along with it. They would laugh seeing me crying.
The only hope in my life was to find my biological father. I was in eighth grade and still no sign of him. I almost gave up looking for him. He never showed up in my life, and he never tried to contact me. What I didn't know at the time was that I knew him, very well may I add. I didn't know him as well as I
thought I did, though.
I went to school a couple of days later and everywhere I looked people were either staring at me or whispering about me. It was the worst feeling ever! My stomach turned with every insult coming out of people's mouths. I sat down in my chair which was of course, right next to the teacher's desk, Mr. Badry. He was short and skinny. He had bright blue eyes and black hair. He had a beard thing going on but it really made him look younger. He was about 40 years old and had a girlfriend who was also a teacher at the school, her name was Ms, Felly. She was one of the prettiest teachers and one of the nicest too. She was also really short with black hair. They were my favorite teachers.
Mr. Badry walked into the room and immediately looked at me. He paused at the door and just starred. Everyone was rushing to get to homeroom and I just sat there trying my hardest not to cry. You could see that he really cared and wanted to help, but he couldn't there was nothing he could help with. He came over to his desk and put his stuff down. He then looked up at me with eyes so gentle you couldn't stand it.
"You okay?" He asked. His voice was deep and soft.
"No, not really," I said not looking into his eyes.
"You know, I lost my father when I was your age." He replied. He was almost whispering.
"Yeah well, I lost both my parents. One before I was
born and one at age 13." I said. I didn't mean for it to sound mean but I think it did because he stopped talking and took out his laptop.
I looked up again trying not to make it obvious that I was looking at him. He looked so worried and what if it was about me? Why does he care? What made me so special? I didn't know. The rest of the day was a big blur. Mr. Badry and Ms. Wallace, my math and science teacher, said not to worry about homework because I was having a bad time. It was so nice to have one thing off my back and not have to worry about it.
I got on the bus and surprisingly didn't have to sit with anyone. I leaned up against the window and put my headphones in. I just kept starring out the window but not really starring. Too much was on my plate today. I didn't talk much at all that day. Too scared of what people might say. The bus ride wasn't long at all. It was the third stop and was about a fifteen-minute ride from the school.
Elizabeth wasn't on the bus because she was staying after for detention and Tim wasn't going to be home for another hour. I got off the bus and saw that Charles was home and no one else was there. I opened up the door and put my bag down. There wasn't a single noise in the house. Which I thought was really strange, but just thought it was because of all that happened. I yelled
for Charles five times but no answer. I walked into my living room and took off my gray and blue sweatshirt.
Out of nowhere, I felt a handcuff my mouth. While the other hand was on my right thigh. What was going on?! I started to scream when I heard his voice.
"Now listen Abbey, you are going to be a good girl and be still."
I felt his hand move from my thigh to my breast. What was he doing?! By this time I was sobbing and wondered if he was going to kill me. He was rubbing my breast for a minute then slid his hand to my genitals. He rubbed and I couldn't believe what he was doing! He was raping me! I felt his hand move back and forth. He walked me to his bed and gave me sleeping pills. He made sure I swallowed them and before I could get up and run I felt myself dose off. I felt my body leaving where I was.
The last thing I remember was him saying "Now go to sleep my darling Abbey." The next morning I realized my fate and cried my heart out as I could do nothing.
One day, Sara, who was fifteen years old, came home from school in a very bad mood. She'd had a fight with her best friend that day and it hadn't turned out well at all. "Sara!" her mom yelled. "What are you doing? You know to do your chores right when you get home! And you're late!"
"Coming, Mom!" Sara yelled, getting up and stomping towards
the kitchen. "What?" she snapped as her mother gave her a stern look, annoyed. "You'd better straighten up your attitude, young lady," her mom warned, "or you'll be grounded."
"Whatever, I don’t care. “Sara began to throw around the dishes in the sink, trying to make as much noise as she possibly could. A plate cracked and cut her hand. Sara cursed. "Sara!" her mom exclaimed. "How dare you use that language! Go to your room!"
"No!" Sara yelled, throwing down the towel she was using to wipe the blood off her hand. "Do you want to say 'no' one more time and see what happens?" her mom asked. She looked furious.
"Sure," Sara said sarcastically. "No." "How dare you!" Her mother slapped her. Sara shrank back, staring incredulously at her mom. She had never hit Sara before. "I Hate You!” I Hope You Will Die” Sara screamed before running out of the house.
"Sara, get back here!" her mom yelled, running after her. "Leave me alone!" Sara screamed, running across the street. “I Hate You!" she screamed again. She continued running until she heard the sound of screeching tires and a scream. She turned around, hoping that it wouldn't be what she thought it would be...
People were crowding around Sara's mother, who was laying in the middle of the street, looking broken, bloody. "Noooo!" Sara screamed, running over and pushing everyone to kneel by her mom. "Oh no, oh no..." Her mom wasn't moving or breathing. She was gone. Sara tipped back her head and wailed to the sky, sobbing so hard it hurt.
She couldn't believe
the last words she had spoken to her mother were "I hate you". And I hope you will die”. Regret rushed through her veins, for her harsh words. An unexpected wave of guilt swept over Sara when she her mother’s lifeless and cold body. She stood crying and speechless. Feeling remorseful for the incident that happened, she kneeled down in front of her mother to beg forgiveness but it was too late.
"Can I see my baby?" the happy new mother asked.
When the bundle was nestled in her arms and she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped. The doctor turned quickly and looked out the tall hospital window. The baby had been born without ears.
Fortunately, time proved that the baby's hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred. When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother's arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks.
He blurted out the tragedy. "A boy, a big boy ... called me a freak."
He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music. "But you might mingle with other young people," his mother reproved him but felt a kindness in her heart.
The boy's father had a session with the family physician. Could nothing be done? "I believe I could graft on a pair of outer ears if they could be procured," the doctor decided.
Whereupon
the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man. Two years went by. Then, "You are going to the hospital, Son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But it's a secret," said the father.
The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged. His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs. Later he married and entered the diplomatic service. "But I must know!" He urged his father, "Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him."
"I do not believe you could," said the father, "but the agreement was that you are not to know .. not yet." The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come ... one of the darkest days that a son must endure. He stood with his father over his mother's casket.
Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal that the mother had no outer ears.
"Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut," he whispered gently, "and nobody ever thought Mother less beautiful, did they?"
Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance, but in the heart. Real treasure lies not in what can be seen, but what cannot be seen. Real love lies not in what is done and known, but in what that is done but not known
