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Forsaken 2 |
| Written by Jessica | |
| Tuesday, 15 April 2008 | |
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Share it:      I had found the email on father's computer but at the time I had know idea of how much it involved me, I had simply accepted it as being one of his many emails about work. If I had cared to read it I would of had the chance to prepare for what would happen the next day; maybe I could have escaped out of the window, any escape would be better than what was waiting for me the next day. I had been woken up by shouting in my ear, "Wake up, Kiyoko! Get dressed, ask no questions." it had been my father's voice in my ear, panicked and rushed, but for a moment it seemed to alien. "There is a debt to be repayed, I am sure that you are aware of this, Kiyoko, do not make this more difficult than it already is for me." I almost choked. I wished that it was he who had to pay, not me who had to pay, the price but there was nothing that I could do to change what was.
I stood in front of my father, crying into a white lace handkerchief that my mother had given me last week; it would be used now that I knew what was to become of me. Part of me felt as though it was numb, I could no longer understand how, or why, my father could be so heartless; but the other part of me accepted my fate. “Kiyoko, I do not want to do this but there is no other way.” father’s eyes closed as if he was defeated, “It will be better for you, in the long run…” I shivered as I tried not to think of why it was not good for me. I stared, paralysed, as Satoshi, my betrothed and soon to be husband, entered the room, ready to collect his human prize. I struggled to break free, I felt the chains around my wrists against my bones, surely there must be a way of loosening the shackles, and surely there must be an escape. He glanced at me briefly before turning to my father; my mother had sworn that she would have no part in the transaction between Kazuko Mazuka, her husband, and Satoshi Odaka, a wealthy business man in need for a young servant. I felt my heart drum in my chest. He had brought a briefcase with him, its black leather casing reflecting how precious the content was. “Are you sure that you want Kiyoko,” my father shot an unconcerned glance in my direction, “and not my darling Rui?” he asked this in his fluent Japanese; he looked at me with a puzzled expression; this did not offend me, I would rather it was my sister than me being sold into slavery. Satoshi laughed and smiled slightly and replied, his Japanese sharp and cutting, “Certainly, Kiyoko will serve me well, I foresee. How old is she, I am sorry to say that I have forgotten…” my body has stiffened, I prayed that he would tell the truth and say that I was just fifteen. “Eighteen.” my father lied, smiling as he studied the briefcase, filled with clean, crisp, yen notes, “just as you specified.” How could he just stand there, lying through his teeth, just to get his hands on some money? “Good.” Satoshi applauded, holding me still as my father undid the restraints with a large, blackened, key, which seemed to have been made in order to intimidate me. I heard Satoshi breathe deep, stunned at what was revealed, and turned to my father. “What is this?” Satoshi asked, hissing almost, taking my hand in his as he comforted me silently. No one had touched me in this way before and I could feel my cheeks glow. How embarrassing, I thought. I noticed that my father had been silent, as he looked away from me, away from the blood and gore; typical that he was the only one unable to face what he had done, “Answer me.” Satoshi growled, baring his teeth, fixing his fathomless blue eyes on father’s pale face. “You said to do whatever was necessary to keep her secured for your arrival, I…” Father trailed off, silenced without Satoshi having to say a word, looking down at his chunky hands. Something is his tone made it clear that his word was law, that nobody ever displeased him without consequences. “She was not to be harmed, wasn’t that your order?” he said simply, glowering, “I don’t think that Kiyoko’s wrists indicate good keeping…” I felt his tanned arms around my body; as if he was shielding me, protecting and saving… on what grounds did he feel he had to do that? Then I thought, perhaps more affected by my wounds than he had been previously letting on. “Here,” Satoshi threw a bag of coins at my father, he moved out of the way just in time, “Keep the change and don’t go near her again.” he took my hand in his and squeezed it as if he were reassuring me that I was safe with him and that everything was going to be alright.
Copyright 2008 Jessica |
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| Last Updated ( Tuesday, 29 April 2008 ) |
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