Chapter 14. Childhood Trauma
"You are an ungrateful child!" Bianca's foster mother yelled.
"What's going on this time? What did she do this time?" Bianca's foster father asked from inside the room. Then walked up to his wife who was glaring at Bianca in terror.
"Look at this! This stupid girl has ruined my shirt. This is what I want to wear tonight for the party. What should I wear then?" Bianca's foster mother was shaking something in her arm, a silk gown that had damaged its original color by smudges in several places.
"I just did what you told me to do. I put all the dirty laundry in the washing machine," Bianca said in self-defense.
Bianca's foster father took the dress and laid it out. He looked sulkily at the dress.
"You are an idiot!" the woman scolded by pushing Bianca's forehead with her index finger. "This dress is ivory white, you shouldn't mix it with anything else!" she said irritably. The woman also hovered on Bianca's upper arm.
Then Bianca's foster father rolled the dress into a rag ball and was thrown at Bianca with a cue. "A child as brazen as this can no longer be taught in words. He should be punished!" he snapped. Then pulled on Bianca's wrist and dragged the small body toward the back of the house.
"No, Dad! Give me mercy! Dad, please don't lock me in there! I'm scared, Dad!" Bianca desperately wanted to rid herself of the father, who was pulling her relentlessly. While Bianca's foster mother just followed and kept throwing abusive words.
They arrived in a small room separated from the main house. It served as a storeroom for gardening utensils and some things that were no longer in use. It was less than four square feet. Its wooden walls had lost much of the paint because they had peeled here and there.
The man opened the door latch and opened it roughly. Several creaks were heard because of the rusted hinges of the door.
Bianca was still trying to win her father's sympathy and forgiveness. Her little face had been wet with tears, so the cold sweat had flooded her head and her forehead, and her hair looked swollen. Without even the slightest tenderness, Bianca's small body was thrown into a room that was almost full of clutched goods. Then the door closed quickly and the latch was drawn back to lock the only way out of the room.
"Mom, Dad, open the door! I'm scared of being here, Dad!" Bianca shouted as she pounded on the door asking for help. Unstop. Back the little girl begged again and again. Yet, no one was compassionate, no one came to the rescue.
All that energy and tears, Bianca's throat was dry, and her lips were dry. As a result of all her efforts, the little girl slumped against the door and leaned backward. There was light from outside through the woodwork, so the small compartment was not as dark as the night. Bianca's been locked up there a few times. At the end of the day, she'll be out of there.
However, that day Bianca's foster parents since the afternoon went outside for a reunion invitation and forgot about Bianca who was still locked in the barn behind. It was getting late, other than hungry because she had not eaten anything since morning, Bianca was dehydrated. Her little head felt dizzy and grew more and more impassable as he returned to his foster parents, but no one came again.
"Mom … Dad …." Bianca began to lose sight and the small body fell helplessly and accidentally hit her head hard enough and made her bleed. Bianca's passed out.
By midnight, they had not gotten Bianca out of the barn. "I'm too tired. Just let her sleep there tonight. Tomorrow morning we'll take her out," Bianca's foster father said. His exasperated wife agreed.

The next day, they found Bianca, who was still unconscious. They rushed Bianca to the hospital by car. A neighbor came by and noticed what had happened that morning.
"What's wrong with Bianca?" the neighbor asked curiously.
"Just a cold. We are just about to take her to the hospital," Bianca's foster mother answered.
When the neighbor got closer, Bianca's foster mother told her not to. "Don't! It might be contagious," she claimed.
The neighbor had initially noticed, but at first she noticed that there was a striking dark red on the white shirt that Bianca was wearing. There was doubt in the neighbor's heart and dared to report to the security officer.
Reporting had resulted in various investigations from the authorities. After the witnesses had collected various incriminating evidence and witnesses, the couple was prosecuted to prison for their neglect and abuse of their adopted child. Then the verdict was dropped and Bianca's adoption license was revoked. The little girl returned to her old orphanage in the care of the State.
From then on Bianca had nightmares, withdrawn from the crowd, and said very little. The little girl's laughter disappeared. It took a long process for child psychologists to assist Bianca's psychological recovery.
After three years, Bianca's condition slowly improved, but that terrible tragedy left Bianca severely traumatized, and she was diagnosed with PTSD. If a post traumatic seizure would arise, the little girl would have difficulty breathing.
A small room and especially when in the dark was the single biggest factor capable of triggering Bianca's stress levels. Furthermore, physical fatigue could also be a catalyst for the heightened feelings of insecurity adopted by Bianca's subconscious, causing panic, threats, and overwhelming fear.
Drug by drug. Therapy after therapy Bianca went through. Then came Indira as her new friend. Indira called Bianca a big sissy because she was three years younger. Indira was new to the orphanage at the time.
"Hello, I'm indira. What's your name, Big sissy?" Indira called in one evening to Bianca, who was sitting on the corner of the terrace.
Bianca turned to see little Indira holding out her hand to shake. At first she was hesitant and embarrassed, but after seeing Indira's large round eyes and her big smile, she greeted the small hand.
"I'm Bianca."
"Hi, Big sissy. We'll be friends, okay?" Indira said without hesitation.

"Pardon?" Bianca was surprised by Indira's hospitality.
Little Indira sat with Bianca next to her.
"I've been here for two days, Sister Bi. But I've never seen you join the others. So, I forced myself to approach you, Sister Bi," Indira said. "You're so quiet, aren't you?" she asked in amazement.
"You're new at the facility?" Bianca asked to be sure.
"Yes. My uncle had driven me here. My parents passed away last month. No one will take care of me. So here I am now," Indira words run without any hint of sadness or disappointment.
"How come you're not sad about being dumped here?" Bianca asked in disbelief.
Instead, it was Indira smiling. "No. I'm not sad. They didn't dump me. Even here I could make a lot of friends. Mom and dad are gone. I couldn't cause any trouble for others," Indira answered.
"But did you say you were here with your uncle?"
"The person I call uncle is just our neighbor. Mom and dad don't have any relatives besides me. I'm all alone, Sister Bi," Indira said, staying with a smile.
Bianca was touched by the courage Indira had. Age could not determine maturity and discretion. Bianca reached out, "Let's be friends." From then on, Bianca thought she would have a friend who could help her find new expectations.
Indira welcomed Bianca's hand, "Sister Bi, smile, please," she begged.
Finally a smile came out on Bianca's face that day.