Five Hundred Miles

2.6: For...?

Chapter 2.6: For...? [UNEDITED]

[“I am taking this in, slowly,
Taking it into my body.
This grief. How slow
The body is to realize
You are never coming back.”
― Donna Masini]

Amanda's condition is critical, I heard from Natalie. I told her that I'm at the orphanage, and I guess that she kind of figured it out before I told her. At least I won't have to hear her nagging after me this time, since she already has a lot more to worry about this time. Amanda will be having her operation in a week. The operation is 50% likely going to success, but there's also a risk. If the operation fails, Amanda doesn't live. At this case, I'm going to be an optimist. I believe that since Amanda is a good person, the God will let her live.

Beads of perspiration gather around my chin. I make no effort to wipe it away. I can't believe that I'm actually cooking in the kitchen. That's what I like about the orphanage, nobody cares about the food as long as there's something in their stomach.

My mind often drift when I don't allow it to. This place reminds me of so much.

How is he? I wonder sometimes, even when I know that I shouldn't worried about him at all. His beautiful, charming face keeps on looming in my mind. I close my eyes and throw my head back, imagining his glorious and callused hands slipping over my body. Without noticing, my tongue flicks at my bottom lip and I bite it, hard. The blood I draw doesn't surprise me.

Get a grip of yourself, stupid. I chide myself. He's going to be a father. He's going to have a wife, a family, a good life. Who are you to stop him? Do yourself a favor, and leave him out of your system.

"Maple," Miss Collins' voice calls me back.

I startle at first, but turn to face her immediately, my face flaming in embarrasment. I wonder if she can read minds, because if she can, I'm doomed. I try to act as normal as possible. "May I help you?"

Miss Collins scoffs and hands me a brown folder. It looks really yellowish and smells like oil and oak. "This belongs to you. Old pictures, you know, that boy and little you. What's his name again?"

"Joshua," My voice comes out in a whisper. I hug the folder near my chest, inhaling the scent of our memories deeply. "Thank you, Miss Collins."

Her lips are set in a thin line and she smiles faintly. "Don't do anything stupid. Make sure that you won't hurt yourself."

"I won't. I promise." I say in my best assuring voice. She nods for the last time and walks off, glancing back at me to make sure that I'm still good to go. I smile at her back until she's out of sight.

My fingers work at the slit of the folder, slicing it open. But I hesitate. Pictures of Joshua is absolutely what I don't need at the moment. I want to forget about him, I want to leave him behind me. The pictures will make me forget what I'm supposed to do. I will crave for him every night, shed silent tears if I don't let go.

Better not. I slide the folder into my apron and continue the cookings.

In the nursery, I get to know a few kids. They are pretty amazing, at least none of them intend to get naughty. Ten children are below twelve while five are below eighteen. Pauline, my best 'girl' friend last time has grown up into a beautiful young lady. She's now seventeen, almost an adult.

"So, Maple," she starts when dinner is ready. "How's life?"

I look at her and make an absurd expression. "That's not a valid question, try something not vague and I'll consider a better answer to give."