Eyes Shut (#OnceUponNow)

Mali (Aurora's POV)

I don't remember what my mom looks like anymore. She had died in a car crash when I was too young to create memories. It's hard to cry when you don't know who you're crying for. Yet, I still cried maybe not for my mother, but more for the idea of once having a mother.

My father, on the other hand, was devastated. Claiming that he should have been there. For weeks, he would leave me alone in the house and go to who knows where. Until finally he got his stuff together and focused all his attention on me.

I guess he thought I needed a mother figure since I was so young, but the only person who would marry someone during the depression was Mali. She was a tall finicky woman who was nice enough at first but seemed to slowly hate me. My father never seemed to notice that she sometimes only spent time making two meals instead of three or that she would blame things that she did on me.

"She was the one racked up our phone bill sweetie. Probably calling some boy or something." She said pointing at me like I was some dog that had broken a priceless heirloom.

My dad and I both knew that she was the one calling her friends non-stop and that she wouldn't even let me near the phone. Plus, the fact that no boy would like an emotionally unstable girl like me.

"Sigh, Aurora no more using the phone, okay?" He lazily said obviously not really caring who used the phone as long as the phone bills didn't go up.

"But...I" I replied, but was cut off by Mali.

"You heard him, sweetie, now go to you room." Mali cooed in her super innocent voice.

I stormed off into my room not caring anymore whether dad would defend me or not. He already made his choice over Mali and me. He had chosen Mali.

♢♢♢♢

Not many kids went to school anymore. I know back then it was required, but there wasn't enough money to build enough schools for the overflowing population, so they just dropped it. Now there were barely any schools, most of them just rotting away.

Though there still was one school left that was taught by a single teacher. The school was at one point called Wayville High but know it was just called Ville High because the Way part had rotten away off the sign. The lone teacher's name ironically was Mr. Way. He was an old stout fellow who'd try and teach you whatever you wanted to know.

I preferred learning about art which my "almighty" stepmother had said was stupid and a waste of my time, but I did it anyway because it was actually kind of fun. Whenever my stepmother was busy spending all my dad's money (which was pretty much all the time.) I would sneak out of the house and head over to Ville High. There Mr. Way would have colored pencils and pieces of paper out for me. (Which may I add were pretty rare to find.) I would sit there and draw to my hearts content.Whenever I became frustrated over not being able to draw something he would come over and teach me how to do it.

One time though I made the mistake of taking my drawing home. I hid it, but I swear Mali has a nose for finding things that will get me in trouble.

"Where did you get the colored pencils to draw this! You selfish brat we could have sold those colored pencils and bought us a new stove." She yelled as I fought back tears.

"Th-h-ey aren't mine, I borrowed them from Mr.Way." I stuttered.

She slapped me.

"Lier, you probably stole them and didn't even bother to think about your father and me!" She yelled obviously done with me.

She grabbed me by the hair and locked me in my room. I could hear her as she ripped up and burned my drawing in the fireplace.

After that, I refused to use Mr.Way's colored pencils anymore, till he asked me what was wrong. I told him what my stepmom did and how much of a "meanie" she was.

"Why, don't you just keep your works of art here for now." He replied. "I have plenty of room."

He ruffled my hair and I have been going there since. He was like the grandfather I never had.

♢♢♢♢

I got home after finishing two more drawings. I was late and I knew I would hear it from Mali.

Strangely Mali wasn't mad and was crying. She had been acting weird these past few months.

Once she'd wiped her tears I noticed a tiny bump on her stomach.

Oh, no.

"Sweetie Mali wants to tell you something." My dad said as he walked into the room.

"I'm pregnant." She whispered. "So you better be nice to me you hear me? Cause pretty soon you'll have a sister."

I was stunned. Did they not care about all the rules in place about only having one kid? Or that one of us would have to be sent to Asleep?

She smiled and I realized:

This is her way of getting rid of me.