ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ 20th August 1999. "Mary! Where the heck are my shoes?" Mrs Bola screamed from the living room. Mary's reply was the loud echoing of her slippers as she hurried towards her boss's angry voice. Her sharp breathing carrying the weight of her urgency. A fact that wasn't lost on little Charles who could hear everything three rooms away from the scene. Where was his mum going again? As he thought this, he picked himself from his well-laid bed and headed towards the window to watch his neighbourhood kids play. He was bored out of his mind, but he knew if he went asking his mum for permission to play with those kids, he'd get the usual answer. Knowing his mum was the owner of Harl shopping mall and fashion line was something he wished wasn't engraved In his mind. She had limitless ways of guilt-tripping him just so she could evade her responsibilities and this one was her favourite. She was never going to let him forget it. "At least you see her in the mornings and sometimes before you go to bed." His mind reasoned and Charles sighed, mentally agreeing with his thoughts. If he complained about his mother, what was he to say of his father? Charles sometimes felt the man had other children elsewhere. Children he spent most of his time with and acted as a father to. At least that would mean he actually had a soul. The little time Mr Edward spent at home was the only time Charles had to sit and observe his parents. And what he saw was something he was sure he didn't want to experience. Ever. As Charles stood by the window watching a little boy around his age kicked a worn-out ball to his partner, he sighed with great longing. Those boys were lucky for he knew the only person who would ever give him the time of the day was Mary, his family's house help. Why did his parents act as if he didn't exist? Why had they stopped him from playing with the neighbourhood kids? If they weren't going to be with him why stop him from having friends? "What about Ms Hannah? Isn't she your friend?" The thought came so suddenly Charles couldn't help but frown. He quickly shoved the thought to the back of his mind and snapped the window shut - for the mere thought of the name itself sent a kind of chill down his spine. Turning, Charles headed toward the leaving room. Maybe if he sweet-talked his mother enough today, she'd let him at least talk to the neighbours' son. Charles pursed in his steps when he found his mum bent over the dinner table trying to fix her high heeled sandals. "Mum?" He whispered, his voice as meek as it could go. His mother swung around so quickly she almost lost her balance. Her bag slipping from her hands as its content spewed across the rug. Why did she look so scared? Without sparing him a glance she bent down and began gathering the contents into her bag. "Charles I'm late for a meeting. Let's talk when I'm back." She grunted, her face a stony mask. How did she know he wanted to talk? All he wanted was- She rolled her eyes at him and stood to her feet. "What is it?" She asked. Her eyes finally landing on him. "Mum-" he began but she didn't let him finish. "Charles I don't have time for this. Go watch some cartoons or play some games. It'll keep you busy while I'm gone." She began making her way towards the door. Charles couldn't understand what was going on. All he wanted was five minutes with his mother. Maybe a little hug would be nice too. Why did it always have to be like this every single day? Just as she reached the door Charles found himself calling out, "Mum?" And just as he'd expected she paused in her instep and gave a very obvious sigh. "Have I done something wrong?" He muttered. His voice carrying emotions he couldn't begin to understand. At least not yet. She turned, her eyes landing on him for the second time. It looked empty. Void. "You wouldn't understand Charlie, you are still a kid." "I'm not a kid anymore mum. I'm twelve." "Exactly. A kid." She made a move to leave again but Charles called after her. "Mum please if I've done anything to you please forgive-" Mrs Bola turned yet again and this time her irritation was plastered on her face. "If you want to know what's wrong, ask your father. That's what adults would do. Please stop disturbing me." Charles stood frozen, his feet firmly planted on the rugged floor as tears began swelling beneath his lids. Just as they were about to slide down his fluffy cheeks, his feet found strength and he dashed through the door leading to the balcony. He wasn't going to let her see his tears. There was nothing he could do about this, his mother would never love him. His father was no better. "Charlie come back here!" He faintly heard his mother shout but he shut the balcony door anyway. He felt like he wasn't good enough to be her child. Maybe he was too much of a burden to her. It was even possible he was the reason his dad was always travelling, just so he could get away from him. Maybe something was wrong with him. Maybe he shouldn't have been born! His childish fist grabbed the railing of the balcony as he looked out into the street. His eyes wandering across the building to Ms Hannah's house. Ms Hannah... Although the woman freaked the hell out of him, Her house, with its milky painting, always had that homely and inviting feeling to it. A fact he was yet to fully comprehend. Maybe the house was better than the woman living in it. The sound of the living room door opening had him wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. If that was his father- "Thank you so much for doing this." His mum said in a rush. "You always show up for me." "It's no big deal Bola, it's always a pleasure to spend time with your sweet, little boy." Charles's heart skipped. Oh no... "Where is he anyway? Charles? where are you?" Oh no no no... Charles contemplated hiding. Maybe if he climbed over the railing he could just jump to freedom. Jump away from Ms Hannah's piercing gaze. But no, he found his childish feet push him towards the sitting room. "I'm here ma," Charles answered as he opened the balcony door and stepped back into the living room. "Where were you?" Ms Hannah asked as she dropped her purse and keys on the sitting-room table. "I was at the balcony," Charles said. His eyes darting between her bright eyes and his mother's dull ones. "What were you doing there?" When he couldn't give her an answer she turned to his mother and asked, "Bola, I hope you haven't angered him again?" His mum just waved the question off with her hands and Ms Hannah immediately smiled. "Don't mind your mother." She said and opened her arms to him. "Come give me a big hug dear, it's been a while." Charles wanted to disappear. Knowing his mother would not object to the matter, Charles reluctantly stepped into a hug that was too tight for comfort. "Thank you so much, Hannah," His mum said again. Not bothering to as much as pat him goodbye. Charles didn't bother to get hurt this time. As his mother stepped out the door, Hannah's hands tighten around Charles as she spoke softly to him. "Don't worry baby, I'll take very good care of you, I promise." Unfortunately for Charles, he had no idea he was aboutto be completely ruined.