Chapter Four: Sadness and Confusion

~Kena~

"How about Mike Ronnie? He seems cool." I rolled my eyes at Paul as he went on cheerfully.

"Fine. What about James? I heard somewhere he has a thing for you. It wouldn't hurt if you looked into it?" I groaned loudly, putting my head on the table, completely frustrated. Please, God, make it stop!

"Gosh, you're so picky! Ok, why don't we look into Eddy? I think..." That's it!

"Please stop talking for a second; I can't even hear myself think!" Paul's lips tightened as he gave me a puzzled and hurt look, but I couldn't stop feeling annoyed and angry.

I had a terrible morning, and here we were at lunch, and Paul was busy throwing boys at me faster than I could catch them, and all I ever wanted was him. Why couldn't he see that?!

I didn't mean to yell at him, but I was on the verge of crying and embarrassing myself in front of everyone, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake off the feeling.

"What's wrong?" His voice suddenly took on a serious tone.

"Is everything alright at home? Did the beast hurt you again?" I grimaced.

Yeah, "the beast".

You're probably wondering why I referred to my mother as a beast earlier and why my best friend was doing the same again? Well, it was a name we both believed she just had to have.

Remember how I mentioned earlier that when I was twelve, my father took me away from home and by so doing I never got to see my birth mother again? Ok.

It's not a particularly long story; it's quite brief actually. The thing is, after that incident, I recall sitting silently with tears in my eyes as my father drove past the usual store where we always went for my birthday gifts, and at first I didn't panic because, well, I tried to rationalize the whole thing. Perhaps puppies were not available in that store. Maybe we needed to go a little bit further to get it? Or maybe he just wanted to try out a new store? Yes, that's how I justified it.

But deep down I knew it was all nonsense, yet I clung to the sliver of hope that what I was feeling was just my mind playing tricks on me, just the wild imaginations of a child, and that my father would never be so cruel as to harm me in such a way. Yeah, those were all wishful thinking.

I remember looking questioningly at his hard face as he drifted to the side of a quiet road and asked me to get out of the passenger seat and into the back.

I knew better than to argue with him because when he gave a command, it was as well as done. I quickly got out of the car and walked towards the back, but before I could do as he asked of me, I was stopped and asked to take off my jacket and hand it over to him; that, I did quickly and quietly.

The next thing he asked was that I turn away from him and face the truck, which I did without hesitation. And, before I could figure out what he was thinking, my jacket was suddenly placed over my head and tied into a knot so I couldn't loosen its grip on my face.

I can still remember the panic that washed over me as I began to cry through the jacket.

I begged and begged my father to take off the jackets because I was now hyperventilating, but all I got was yelling at me to stop making noise, and then I began to feel my consciousness slipping, and after a while, everything went completely black.

The next time I woke up, I was in an orphanage with a slew of other kids.

This isn't a story I like to tell, but despite the horrible events in my life, I don't regret a thing because that sad incident led me to Mr Mason five years ago and I will always remain grateful. Well, except for his wife and daughter though.

I had always heard sad stories about some older kids at the orphanage who unfortunately lived their lives there and never got adopted but instead were kicked out when they reached the age of majority.

When I first arrived at the orphanage, I automatically assumed that was what would happen to me because, after all, there were so many cute babies and toddlers to choose from, so who would want a sad, depressed twelve-year-old like me?

God, was I wrong. Barely two months after I got there, Mr Mason came along like a guardian angel, changed my mindset and brought some joy into my sad little life.

Why he chose me over one of those adorable children will forever remain a mystery to me and I will never forget him until the day I die. As for his wife and daughter? Now that was a different case entirely.

I'm not sure if Mr Mason and his wife ever discussed adoption before coming to the orphanage to meet me that day, or if Mrs Rebecca Mason approved of my selection over the cute little babies that were present. But one thing is certain: madam Rebecca despised me from the very moment she laid eyes on me.

And as for her daughter Jessica, I couldn't tell what was causing her dislike for me; perhaps she was simply following in her mother's footsteps. Who can say?

Anyway, at first, "Mum" didn't outrightly display her dislike for me because Dad was always there and always watching; but I knew she didn't like me one bit.

I recall the first time I felt the sting of her hatred. That was the day Dad decided he didn't want me to attend the school he had originally enrolled me in, even though I loved it there; instead, he insisted I attend the same school as his daughter Jessica—it was an exclusive school for the children of the wealthy—and that was when Mum finally snapped.

God, I can still see the anger in her eyes. The way she looked at me then and the words she threw at me reminded me so much of my biological father, and just thinking about it sends deadly shivers down my spine.

Till today, I don't know how Dad persuaded her, but I was eventually enrolled there, and that's when I learned the true meaning of bullying.

At first, Jessica began by telling the entire school that I was a charity case and should be treated as such, but it was bearable aside from the occasional name-calling and other verbal insults. But then, two years after my adoption, my newfound father and the happiness behind my eyes died of a heart attack, and everything changed for the worse.

It felt like I'd been stripped naked and paraded around a stadium, with nowhere to hide as everyone stared and laughed at me.

After Dad died, I became exactly like Cinderella. My room changed, as did my chores and my name. I was hoping that my school would change as well, but that conveniently remained unchanged. As it turned out, Jessica required the services of a servant all day, so it only made sense for me to continue my education at Greenwealth Secondary School in order to meet the princess's requirements.

Signing a piece of paper, I suppose, does not automatically make a person a parent and a child; it could also mean a Mistress and a servant or anything else.

School was a nightmare! It turned out that being Jessica's maid also meant I was the maid to all of her friends, and let me tell you, she had a lot of them!

Apart from giving me horrible nicknames like "Ward of State," "Stumblebum," and "Churchmouse," they also made me do things like fetching lunch for them, carrying around their bags at the expense of my classes, carrying around extra clothings if she needed to change at any time of the day, polishing her shoes and those of her friends if she felt they weren't looking shiny enough, and with all of that, I got hit at the slightest provocation and let me tell you, that happened way more often than you can possibly imagine, with me being clumsy and all.

The sad part was that no teacher or adult at school said or did anything about it, and when I got home, mum was always there to double the punishments, hence the nickname "The Beast."

"Why aren't you answering me? She did something to you again didn't she?" Paul asked again, and I was abruptly pulled out of my thoughts.

One thing I disliked about Paul was that he always seemed to hit the nail on the head at the right time while remaining completely unaware of the problem. I mean, it was beyond my comprehension.

How could I possibly tell him I was enraged, confused, and borderline frustrated by Jessica's love confession for him, even though I knew he wanted Jessica from the first time he laid eyes on her, and he even confessed this to me more times than I can count, and he had been waiting for such news for so long now?

Before this morning, Jessica had been playing hard to get for heaven's sake! So what changed?!

Everything was so confusing. She suddenly wanted him, and I wasn't sure if she had already told him how she felt and if he was deliberately keeping it from me.

I wanted to cry, yell, scream, and throw a fit, but I knew I didn't have the right to.

Paul's father owned the largest company and industry in Greenvale, and his influence extended worldwide; some even claimed he had a special seat in the royal household and could buy the entire island if he so desired. I had a crush on this type of person's son; me, a churchmouse.

Bullying at school seemed to have decreased significantly since Paul became friends with me, except at home, of course. I'm not sure what he did or said to her, but even Jessica let me off the hook at school, for which I was eternally grateful.

Everyone in Greenvale knew that people's relationships were based solely on their social standings and backgrounds, so of course, Mr Williams would want his son with someone like Jessica, who could bring something to the table, rather than someone like me. And after that conversation with Jessica, I began to suspect that maybe Paul's relationship with her was far more intimate than he let on.

"Kena?" I raised my head to look at him. He was still waiting for an answer, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

Paul had been my best friend for two years, and that was all we could ever be. Wanting anything else was as bad as attempting suicide. I was well aware of this, but what my brain knew and what my heart desired were diametrically opposed.