Post by skyeknight on Dec 13, 2016 16:56:12 GMT
Vanitas had been little more than a boy during the Black War. Others started cropping up more, coming out of the woodwork – out of hiding. It had been the beginning of the end for Vanitas and his little family. It used to be him, his mom and his dad. They weren’t living it up in the best part of town, but though Vanitas would deny it if ever questioned about it, they had been happy. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that his parents loved him or loved each other. He would wake up and find his parents smiling fondly at one another in the kitchen, his mom would make breakfast and his dad would walk him to school.
School wasn’t half bad either. He was doing well in his classes, even if his teacher sat him in the back of the class because his eyes creeped her out. His parents only worried when he came home with bruises and red eyes so he insisted that it was okay – that he had gotten hurt playing with his friends. It might have been convincing if he actually had any friends. Because the teacher distrusted him, the other students did too. When he was older he realized that everything he did in school was useless. He had spent more than one recess inside the library, curled up with a book, trying his best to do even better in his classes so the teacher could see he was smart and the other kids would like him if the teacher did.
But once Others started cropping up left and right, humans became afraid. His father lost his job, brutally forced out for being an incubus. His coworkers were afraid he would try to steal their wives or seduce them even though his father had been faithfully married to his wife for years. His father’s coworkers knew how his father was. They had even been over for dinner a few times. Vanitas had played with the other children, when the kids weren’t scared of him and thought his weird eyes were cool. That didn’t seem to matter once they realized what his father was.
His mother was next. Her work had cut her hours, slowly but surely until her schedule was non-existent. They didn’t really give her the chance for disability due to not being fired. She was forced to quit. City taxes took more than she earned in a day. So his parents had to work jobs under the table, at lower rate than humans. His mom became a nanny when she used to be a nurse. His father had been an accountant and now balanced the budget for some not so good individuals but pay was pay.
After that, his parents sold their cars, their home, and their belongings. Vanitas gave up his toys, his books and went without warm jackets or new shoes, all so he could see his parents smile instead of worrying about money. When things were sold, it was at an unfair rate for the unfortunate family. Sometimes getting a fraction of what they paid because it was either the first offer or no offer at all. Swindled out of their money because of their species. His parents were too kind to fight back. They wanted to prove that demons weren’t bad creatures.
Vanitas tried to follow suit.
He really did try.
As long as he woke up each morning with his mom and dad, it didn’t matter that he no longer went to school and that his parents went without so he could go to bed with a full stomach. It didn’t matter that they became homeless, as long as they were together. More than once, he heard them whisper about giving him up, how it would be better for him, so he tried harder. He tried to contribute as much to their little family as they did. Please don’t leave me, he pleaded, don’t ever go.
They had long since learned to stop asking where he got money from. He would come back to whatever place they were staying at, filthy and sweaty with a fist full of dollar bills. He had earned it. Every penny. From a little old lady who let him tend her garden, mow her lawn, rake the leaves, and bring in her mail every day. He told himself that after she passed away, he only missed her because she had been a source of income and that he had to find himself a new one. It was after her passing he met him. The man who had ruined everything. A human named Xehanort.
The man had leered down at him when Vanitas 'accidentally' ran into him (on his first attempt at pickpocketing no less). Things had gotten tough when the little old lady passed away. His mom was sick and his dad was trying to help her feel better faster. He saw older kids doing it all the time. They tried to show him. Apparently, he wasn’t as good as he had hoped. The older kids had let him practice with them. Why did he have to mess up now? He could just see how disappointed his parents would be. He would go to jail and the police officers would be mean to his parents again. The thought almost made him cry.
"Watch those hands of yours!" the man barked.
Vanitas had frozen in his spot. He just didn’t know what to do. He had been caught. The older kids never got caught and they didn’t tell him what to do if he was caught. The tiny six year old had remembered the fear that curled through his very being. It had been chilling and all encompassing. He quivered beneath the man’s gaze. He acted as if making himself a smaller target would hide him from those unfeeling eyes. Even he knew that there was something wrong with that man. It wasn’t until much, much later did Van realize that the man was evil incarnate itself. Human and horrible.
"My wallet."
Vanitas flinched. With trembling hands he forked over the stolen possession. He hoped that if he gave it back the man would stop yelling at him. The man snatched it back, almost sending Vanitas reeling to the ground. He clutched his hands back to his chest, holding them close because his fingers hurt. Now, Vanitas was crying. The child couldn’t help himself. He was scared. The police hadn’t been nice to his parents and the man wasn’t being any nicer. He was afraid he was going to get taken away. He didn’t think he would be able to survive that.
"Little demon."
Wide eyed and terrified the child took a shaky step back. He shook his head. Demon. That word made bad things happen. It made his parents lose their jobs because no one wanted a demon at work. They lost their apartment because their neighbors didn’t want to live with demons. It made the kids at school be mean to him. He wasn’t a demon. Demon was a bad word and it scared him. So Van shook his head, trying to deny it.
"I-I’m not-"
"Get over here, brat."
The man reached out to grab at him. Vanitas’ eyes widened. He gave a shout, a cry for help, but no one came. Sniveling he ducked under the man’s outreached arm and ran for it, refusing to look back until he got near his ‘home’. It took him hours to calm back down enough before he could face his parents. They hated seeing him cry. But it was just so hard not to sometimes.