Chapter 1 - The Girl

Chapter 1 of "What She Is"

Screaming and crying. That was all Hanson could hear while holding his sister’s hand in the delivery room. She had only wanted him in there, since he was a lot more calm than their parents. Did he regret switching his sister’s pills? He did not. Hanson knew what he was doing when he made the decision. Despite the fact that his sister was breaking his hand and screaming louder than he thought humanly possible, he had gotten her to stop bringing countless men home. That was quite an accomplishment.

            The doctor picked up a completely red, squirming thing. The baby was born. The baby was wrapped in a blanket and handed to the mother. It was a girl. A little girl had been born. Her mother looked down at her and frowned.

            “How are you not smiling?” Hanson asked his sister. She handed him the child.

            “She’s not what I wanted,” she told him.

            “Why not? I thought you wanted to go through with this.”

            “No, you wanted me to go through with this,” she raised her voice. “She’s not making me feel any different. I’m just angry she caused me so much pain. I don’t want her.”

            Hanson looked down at the tiny child in his arms and smiled. “I can take her then. She’ll be mine, and I’ll take good care of her. She could think you’re her aunt and I’m her dad-”

            “There is no way that is happening,” his sister interrupted him. “I’m taking her home, you didn’t put in any work to make her yours. As much as I hate it, she’s my daughter. Not yours, Hanson.”

            Hanson continued to hold the child. He sighed and attempted to hand her the kid, but she did not accept. What a life she’ll have. Hanson thought to himself. He could see his irresponsible sister leaving her home all by herself and coming home intoxicated. The helpless child would not last a day in the care of that woman. He handed the infant off to the nurse and left the room, not being able to stay by his sister much longer.

            Now, Hanson’s sister’s name has not been mentioned, nor has his niece's. The baby’s mother is not important enough to mention the name of. The baby… her name is Marah. Meaning bitter.

 

Five years later...

 

            A cold breeze entered through the open window. Marah sat on her bed, shivering. Her mother never bothered to pay the electricity bills, and the Wisconsin winters nearly froze little Marah to death. If it weren’t for her uncle coming and bringing warm food and drinks every day, the 5-year-old would’ve been long dead. It was unfortunate, how tough her life was. Her mom did not enroll her in school, even though she would be turning six soon. Nothing about Marah’s situation was good. Hanson knew that.

            Hanson secretly went to his sister’s house everyday while she was at work. He brought books, toys, clothes, blankets, and food for his niece. She would never get any of that if it weren’t for him. Of course, he had to take it all back with him so his sister would never know he was there. Marah loved her uncle as if he was her father. She looked more like him than she did her own mother, too.

            Marah and Hanson had the same rust colored hair and bright blue eyes. Marah had slightly paler skin, showing that her father most likely looked like her as well. Not that anyone could find him, her mother had too many men to determine which one was Marah’s dad. Even if they were able to contact him, there was no way this man would want to drop everything and help take care of his daughter. He might’ve had a wife and a family of his own, perhaps he had a girlfriend. Marah’s mother stopped trying to find him long ago. She was much too busy to deal with that.

            She had a job as a waitress at a fancy restaurant downtown. As soon as she learned she was pregnant, she decided it was time to be responsible. Not that she was extremely responsible, but she could have been much worse. Marah was neglected and definitely would have been taken away if it weren’t for Hanson. Of course, Marah’s mother worked all day every day to make sure that Marah could at least have some clothes and a little food. Much of the money was wasted on things that the family simply could not afford, but not ever having heat and never buying enough food for both of them, they could technically afford useless stuff. Unlimited cell phone data, expensive shoes, makeup, and a brand new car were things that the money was usually wasted on.

            Hanson, on the other hand, had a pretty nice life. He was engaged to a handsome doctor, a nice man that would do anything to help people. He and Hanson would often talk about trying to adopt Marah, but Hanson did not want to do that to his sister. It would be impossible to go through with a case attempting to take Marah away from her. On that bitter day, when Hanson went back home, his fiancé was waiting for him.

            “How is she?” Adam, Hanson’s fiancé, asked.

            “Freezing,” Hanson blandly replied, pouring himself a glass of wine.

            “I really think we should report your sister. Doesn’t it bother you?”

            “Of course it bothers me. I just couldn’t do that to her.”

            Adam sighed. “She obviously doesn’t care. Marah can’t grow up in a place like that, she needs a real family. You know that, Hanson.”

            Hanson shook his head. “We can’t do that. As much as I would love to, what would my parents say? They don’t know about the life that Marah has,” he could feel himself raising his voice. “We have to leave her there, we can’t take her! She won’t succeed in life or be happy, but she has to stay there, Adam. She has to.”

            Adam held Hanson as he started crying. They both knew that what Hanson said was true, and neither of them liked it. All they wanted to do was help a poor child that had no chance in life.

            When Marah’s mother got home, she was exhausted. Walking through the door, she did not bother to glance down at Marah, who was playing on the floor in the living room. Marah never usually talked to her mom, for she knew she would get yelled at. However, she felt like talking that day.

            “Hi mom,” she said shyly, waiting for her mom to punish her for speaking.

            “Hm,” her mother replied, not looking her way.

            “Was work good?”

            “No.”

            “Why?”

            “Go to sleep, Marah,” the girl’s mother sharply replied. She looked over at the girl and noticed something. She was wearing a jacket she had never seen before. “Where did you get that coat?”
            “I had it,” Marah lied. Hanson had brought it that day, and she forgot to give it back to him when he left.

            “No, you didn’t have that.”

            “Yes I did. We got it shopping.”

            “I never bought you a brand-new coat. Where did you get it?”

            “I had it.”

            “Marah!” her mother yelled at her. “Tell me where you got that jacket!”

            “I had it!” Marah yelled back, tears started to stream down her face.

            Marah’s mother screamed a few choice words and stomped over to her, her face twisted in fury. She picked up the tiny child and took her to her bedroom. She threw Marah into the room and slammed the door before hearing the thud of Marah hitting a piece of furniture. The house was suddenly silent. Good. she thought.