Matou sustained injuries to her cheek from Aunty Bae, which began to burn and bleed after Aunty Bae pinched her, leading to bleeding and a stained uniform collar, an incident Mrs. Owens later discovered. The pain was immediate, a sharp, searing sensation that marked her skin. Mrs. Owens confronted Aunty Bae, asking, "Mother! What have you done to the child?" as she observed blood drying near Matou's jawline and her uniform collar stained red. The sight of the fresh injury and the crimson stain was deeply alarming to Mrs. Owens. Aunty Bae responded with a dismissive, "Nothing," and when Mrs. Owens, her voice laced with disbelief and horror, exclaimed, "Oh my God… Mother! What is this?", Aunty Bae stated, "She was becoming too full of herself. I had to bring her down from her high horse." The casual tone of Aunty Bae's justification starkly contrasted with the severity of Matou's injury.
Aunty Bae defended her actions by explaining Matou "was arguing with Jane," and "raising her voice like she belongs here equally." She added, with a clear tone of admonishment, "Well… She should know her place. She is forgetting herself. She is a foster child. She is here because her family cannot provide for her. She should remember that. And she thinks she can raise her voice like she is equal to my grandchildren?" Her words showed a deep-seated belief in a rigid social hierarchy within the household. Mrs. Owens countered, "She is a child," her voice firm, and then pointed out the undeniable physical evidence, "She is bleeding!" to which Aunty Bae replied with cold indifference, "And whose fault is that? She must learn." Mrs. Owens insisted, her voice filled with a desperate plea for recognition of Matou's humanity, "She does belong here," but Aunty Bae disagreed vehemently, asserting, "No. She is being helped. She is not family." The exchange noted the profound chasm between their views on Matou's place. Mrs. Owens then turned to Matou, her voice softening with compassion, "It’s okay, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…"
A Pinch Ignites Deep Wounds
Matou's wound drew immediate and horrified attention from Jane's younger cousin, who screamed 'Blood!' upon seeing it, a cry that echoed the shock of the moment. The incident showed Matou's consistent experience of being treated as an outsider and a recipient of charity within the household. From the moment she arrived, Matou experienced being treated like an outsider, a charity case, constantly reminded of her precarious position. She recalled living in fear, often being pinched awake before dawn to begin her chores, and performing arduous tasks such as scrubbing urine from clothes by hand. These daily indignities were coupled with the constant reminder of her status; she remembered having to eat last, often receiving smaller portions, and being frequently told she was fortunate to be there, a refrain that chipped away at her self-worth.
Aunty Bae asserted that Matou "should know her place" and was "forgetting herself," implying a deliberate defiance of unspoken rules. She added, with a pointed emphasis, "She is a foster child. She is here because her family cannot provide for her. She should remember that." Aunty Bae questioned Matou's actions, asking rhetorically, "And she thinks she can raise her voice like she is equal to my grandchildren?", a question that revealed her deep-seated belief in Matou's inferior status. She justified her treatment of Matou, stating, "She was becoming too full of herself," suggesting that Matou's spirit needed to be curbed. Aunty Bae concluded that she "had to bring her down from her high horse," a phrase that painted Matou's assertiveness as arrogance.
These experiences led Matou to ponder if her biological family missed her or if life had proceeded without her, a painful uncertainty that gnawed at her. The isolation she felt in Aunty Bae's home made her question her value to anyone. Aunty Bae maintained that Matou was "being helped" but was "not family," drawing a clear line between Matou and her own blood relatives. The elder woman's perception was that Matou was "an ungrateful child" and that any suffering was her own fault, declaring with an air of finality, "And whose fault is that? She must learn." Aunty Bae also claimed Matou "was arguing with Jane" and "raising her voice like she belongs here equally," painting Matou as the instigator of the conflict.
The Weight of Poverty and Promises
Aunty Bae asserted that Matou was "being helped" but was "not family," distinguishing her from other household members and emphasizing her temporary, conditional presence. Aunty Bae maintained, "She is an ungrateful child," a label that dismissed any genuine grievance Matou might have. She stated that Matou "should know her place" and added, "She is forgetting herself," reinforcing the idea that Matou was overstepping boundaries. According to Aunty Bae, Matou "was becoming too full of herself" and she "had to bring her down from her high horse," illustrating her belief that Matou needed to be humbled. Aunty Bae questioned Matou's behavior, asking, "And she thinks she can raise her voice like she is equal to my grandchildren?", a rhetorical question designed to show Matou's perceived insolence. She stressed that any suffering was Matou's own fault, declaring, "And whose fault is that? She must learn," absolving herself of responsibility.
Matou, reflecting on her experiences, felt unwanted everywhere, perceiving herself as "given away at home and tolerated elsewhere." This widespread sense of rejection made her feel "discarded and passed around," like an object rather than a cherished individual. Aunty Bae identified Matou as "a foster child" whose family "cannot provide for her," adding, "She should remember that," a constant reminder of her economic vulnerability. Aunty Bae indicated Matou "was arguing with Jane" and "raising her voice like she belongs here equally," framing Matou's actions as inappropriate and challenging. When confronted about Matou’s injuries, Aunty Bae initially responded, "Nothing," before justifying her actions with her usual explanations.
Matou recalled false promises made when she was sent away, which included opportunities for schooling and a better life, but these proved to be cruelly false. The reality of her daily existence, filled with chores and emotional neglect, stood in stark contrast to the bright future she had been led to expect. She believed that poverty had stolen choices from her family, effectively disguising abandonment as a new opportunity, a bitter pill to swallow. Aunty Bae reiterated Matou's status, stating, "She is here because her family cannot provide for her," a phrase that served as a constant, painful reminder of her family's inability to care for her. She emphasized Matou's non-family status, responding "No" when asked if Matou belonged, and clarifying, "She is not family." Aunty Bae stated, "She is being helped," reinforcing the perception of Matou as a recipient of charity rather than a family member with inherent rights. Matou's perspective was that the circumstances surrounding her foster care were a painful consequence of economic hardship rather than a genuine chance for improvement, a feeling of being trapped by circumstances beyond her control.
A Mother's Intervention and Matou's Resolve
Mrs. Owens entered the scene, expressing alarm and asking her mother, Aunty Bae, "Mother! What have you done to the child?" Her voice conveyed a mix of shock and concern upon seeing Matou's injured face. Mrs. Owens then asserted that Matou "does belong here," directly contradicting Aunty Bae's earlier statements about Matou's status and offering a glimmer of acceptance. Aunty Bae, however, maintained her position with unwavering conviction, stating, "No. She is being helped. She is not family." The firmness in Aunty Bae's voice left no room for negotiation on this point. Mrs. Owens, recognizing the immediate need for care, responded by instructing the house help to bring hot water and another child to retrieve her first aid box, moving swiftly to address Matou's physical injury.
As Mrs. Owens cleaned Matou's wound with antiseptic, her actions were accompanied by repeated apologies, telling Matou, "It’s okay, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…" The antiseptic stung, but Mrs. Owens's gentle touch and sincere words offered a rare moment of comfort amidst the pain. This intervention followed Mrs. Owens confronting Aunty Bae, who had previously justified her actions by saying Matou "was becoming too full of herself" and that she "had to bring her down from her high horse." Aunty Bae had also stated, "Well… She should know her place. She is forgetting herself. She is a foster child. She is here because her family cannot provide for her. She should remember that." These words, delivered with a chilling lack of empathy, had set the stage for the physical abuse. When Mrs. Owens questioned her, Aunty Bae further asked, with a tone of indignant challenge, "And she thinks she can raise her voice like she is equal to my grandchildren?"
Mrs. Owens had also challenged Aunty Bae, saying, "She is a child," emphasizing Matou's vulnerability, and pointing out the undeniable evidence, "She is bleeding!" Aunty Bae had dismissed this with a cold retort, responding, "And whose fault is that? She must learn." She had further claimed Matou "was arguing with Jane," and "raising her voice like she belongs here equally," shifting the blame entirely onto Matou. Aunty Bae had previously referred to Matou as "an ungrateful child," a label that stripped Matou of any right to complain or express herself.
The Lingering Echoes of Rejection
Matou's grief extended beyond her physical wound, encompassing her entire experience of being given away, her parents' decision, and her perceived lack of worth. The physical pain was a stark reminder of deeper, emotional scars. She cried for the years that were slipping away without her siblings and the memories they were creating without her, a profound sense of loss for a childhood she was missing. She questioned if her family missed her and if life had moved on without her, a haunting uncertainty that added to her despair. The feeling of being forgotten by those she loved most was a heavy burden. After these harrowing experiences, Matou stopped trying to be loved in that house, a silent, profound surrender to the harsh reality of her situation. The hope she once held for acceptance slowly dwindled, replaced by a quiet resignation.