Forgetting Not Forgiving by HumbleGoddess

Forgetting

Kagome Higurashi was like a $1000 wine bottle. You think it will be wonderful, but you open it and find it has turned to vinegar. She was beautiful as a movie star, but mean as a crab. Her regal face was always tilted up in a cold glare, and she walked with a haughty elegance a model couldn't muster. She rejected the attentions of any man who approached her.

A handsome man swaggered up to her, his tie loose and his shirt partly unbuttoned. Grimacing in disgust, she said boredly, "What do you want?" "Just some time with you, baby," he crooned. "Slick, freak. But hell no."

Her 3 children were complete strangers to her, after her husband left her she forced herself to forget them. In an attempt to hide her pain, she pushed her loved ones out of her heart and out of her mind.

The maid walked in, holding her mistress's freshly pressed sheets. "Should I serve lunch to the children now, miss?" "Kids?" Kagome said coldly. "I have no kids."

That one maid had been the only one to stay with the family. She worked for almost nothing, and in return, she kept the kids away from their mother. She was the only one who understood the woman, felt her pain and heard her sobs during the first few weeks after the divorce. She made sure the kids didn't exist in her mistress's world.

Kagome's husband, Kouga, left her after a fight during one of his drunken rages.

Kouga stumbled through the front door, leaning heavily upon its frame. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin ashen. The smile on his face was an extremely unpleasant one; that smile was the seed of the giant tree of anger that had just begun to grow. "Kouga?" Kagome asked. Worry and the slightest hint of anger laced her voice. "Are you okay? Are you drunk?"

She sank into a state of severe depression, sometimes stooping so low as to stay in her room for months on end, or even cut her ankles and wrists. She forced herself to forget she ever had children, ever got married. Her lack of memory was her escape from her pain. It was as if none of it ever happened.