It started like this: I was eight year old when I spotted that big teddy bear on the Toy Store's window. I stared, asking my mother to buy me the cute looking stuff animal. I wanted it more than anything in the world at the time. Its neck was wrapped with a blue ribbon and its eyes shined a wicked blue, it was strange, but beautiful to me.
"Oh, Amu," My mother had said, her eyes were full with regret. "I'm sorry, but we don't have that kind of money right now." I stood quiet. I understood our situation enough not to ask twice.
Since my father had died, we had been struggling with money. Even though I understood, I couldn't help, but just wished that we weren't this way. It's silly now. Because I was being selfish and I laugh now, knowing that nothing I wish ever was gained. I don't have my wish of an easy life; I have a bad reputation of an easy slut. Or my childish wish of a charming prince; I have just an asshole of a step-brother.
But, somehow, I just couldn't take my eyes off the bear. I felt the tug of my mother's hand, but I wouldn't budge. Hot tears were building in my eyes. I felt myself break from the inside, and anger didn't help the tears stop either.
In my mid-cry, I hear the door open and the flowing of my tears became sniffs as I stood in front of a blue headed boy, who was, nonetheless, 5 years older than I was. His expression scared me. Bored. Utterly bored and unreadable for my eight year old mind to figure out.
But I didn't care about the boy at that moment. I just want that bear, and I started to cry again, pointing desperately at it. Like as if I was to point and scream loud enough, it would walk right to me.
It never did.
Instead, the boy stared at me with mid-interest and then at the bear. His blue-purple eyes showed a little more emotion in them. And then he walked into the store.
I had had never thought my heart could have broken as it did when I saw the boy buy the bear that I wanted. And then walked out the store and gave me the most joyless stare and walk away. With my bear.
I hated him.
I cried the way back home, though silently. I didn't want to upset my mother even more. I should have understood, but I was frustrated because of the fact that couldn't afford a damn toy.
My childhood never got better after that.
After two years of my father's death, my mother remarried.
And I have new step-siblings, whom I never actually meet until I was twelve.
That was when everything changed.
A/N: Feedback will be appreciated. Thank you. :)