Chapter Text
It's easy to feel empty, especially when someone's hurt you so many times.
Rinka stared at the gun in her father's hands nervously. She knew it was loaded, just like she knew he wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. He had shot her before, but the bullet had merely grazed her arm.
This time, the pistol's target was her head. If her dad fired, he would kill her.
When something terrible has happened so often, it becomes the new normal.
"Come home late again, young lady, and I won't hesitate."
You stop hoping for things to change because no matter how many times you wish for a chance at a better life, things will never go back to the way they were.
"Do I make myself clear?"
Rinka looked up to meet her father's gaze. Her heart was racing, but she forced a straight face. She couldn't let her dad know how scared she was.
The only safe option is to adapt.
"Yes." Her voice wavered as she spoke, "Crystal clear, sir."
"Good."
Everything stops hurting after a while, and you start to lose yourself. You just become hollow inside, just numb to everything around you.
"These grades are unacceptable, Rinka," Her mother screamed, "Why do we bother paying for you to go to Kunugigaoka when you can't be bothered to take things seriously? Money doesn't grow on trees, you know."
Rinka's eyes remained fixated on the floor. She had heard this exact song and dance many times before that it was routine at this point. It was normal. It didn't even bother her anymore.
You spend most of your time lying awake at night, wondering why you can't feel anything.
Her father grabbed her by her hair, lifting her off the ground. She squirmed around, lifelessly trying to get free. The dull throb slowly evolved into more intense pain, but it wouldn't last long. It never did.
"What did I say about talking back?" His shouts rang through the entire house.
She hadn't talked back. She didn't even say anything to her dad or even acknowledge him. She had merely walked past him to get to her room.
"I'm sorry, sir," She deadpanned, "I am."
You start to wonder if you're even human. After all, humans are supposed to feel something.
Rinka peered around the corner at her parents. Their arguing had been keeping her up, and she was safe so long as they didn't catch her.
So, if you can't feel anything, you've lost your humanity. But what does that make you?
She saw her mom and dad standing in the middle of the living room, screaming at each other.
"You think I'm keeping her?" Her father snapped, "I don't want that brat child. You take her."
"I carried that ungrateful little shit around for nine months, damn it, followed by taking care of her for an additional ten years while you were too drunk."
But you can never talk to anyone about it, though. No one would understand you're what you're going through. No one would believe you: not about your parents, or your lack of feeling.
"Come on. I think you're just being a little dramatic.
"Your parents are amazing."
"Don't be silly; you have emotions; you're just out of touch with them."
"Well, it might be your fault."
"There's no way you can't feel anything with a joke like that."
So you deal with your predicament on your own. Besides, if somehow someone else got involved, things would get unnecessarily complicated. So you continue to bite your tongue and try to block out the memories.
"Get out of my house!"
It worked for a little while. You managed to forget your pain and fake your emotions.
"You little shit!"
It was so easy.
"What did I tell you about coming home late?"
You slap on a straight face, and everything's fine. You can't smile, though; you were never big on smiling.
Rinka stared at her father. He held that gun she had grown to hate pointed at her.
"Dad," She called to the man, "What are you doing?"
Her dad's eyes widened beyond a size she thought was possible.
Then it happened.
"This is your fault." He hissed, "This is all your fault!"
He fired the gun, but he just barely missed her head.
Something reminded you of how empty you are.
Rinka's ears were ringing from the gunshot, but that was all she felt. Why wasn't she scared? It made no sense.
Her father had tried to shoot her in the head.
He tried to kill her.
If her heart rate had changed, then that would be a different story. But she was numb.
It's almost funny how shocking it was. You had spent so long trying to act normal, you believed it for a while.
It didn't make sense. Rinka was supposed to feel scared. Even if she was 'emotionally numb,' having her life threatened was something that should've sparked some reaction. She shouldn't be standing there with a blank face, staring at the man who attempted to take her life. It wasn't normal .
That's when another bullet came whirling at her. It zoomed above her head, once again barely missing her.
She still didn't feel anything.
You played the role hoping it would become real. You thought you could miraculously change by playing pretend. But that's not how things work.
Deep down, you've always realized that. You were just fooling yourself.
Her dad growled and shoved Rinka into the wall as he stormed by. She watched him walk out the door.
The only way things get better is if the problem goes away.
She walked over to the door and watched her father drive away.
When it finally leaves, you can be at peace again.
"He fucking left?" Her mother screeched as she slammed a beer bottle on the counter, "And you didn't do anything?"
Rinka stared emptily at her. She didn't know what to do in this situation.
Her dad had left. He had genuinely left them. After talking about a divorce for months, he just left after taking an attempt on her life. Unbelievable.
At least, that's what Rinka thought.