A Mother's Embrace

CHAPTER 1

The alarm resonated loud in my almost empty room. I struggled to open my eyes as last night's whiskey was spreading its harsh claws all over my body.

'Hangover is really the worst' , I thought as I reached for my phone with half open eyelids.

For a few minutes, I sat on the edge of my bed with closed eyes and a bloated face, trying to sink in the fact that I have to live another day. Life is insanely tiring when you have no family and no permanent job. I was tired working all the part time jobs. It was exhausting and made me think a hundred times a day on why I was existing like this.

I was a smart student. No, grades were not the reason why I was jobless. My father started his own business at the age of 52. I was 15 then. My elder sister backed up his idea with all her might. A fresh college graduate like her was unaware of all the cruel ways of the world. Just like how my dad, who was a salaried employee until the age of 52, decided to pursue his dream of opening a restaurant. My mother, who was an ideal housewife, never said no to her husband's words. For this same reason, she remained a silent spectator in all this. And me, who was in her high school then, was just proud to tell her friends that her dad owned a restaurant.

The first few months were the best. Profit seemed to flow in and my dad and sister seemed to gain more and more confidence. They expanded the menu and even bought the land adjacent to the restaurant to expand them. I was the star at school. My friends would excitedly circle around me and ask if they would get free food or extra services if they visited my restaurant. I was enjoying every bit of it.

The thing with success is that, once you get the taste of it, you feel like emptying the entire pot. But like elders say, too much of everything is poison. My dad enthusiastically got loans from a few local loan sharks seeing the steady flow of money. Even when his friends advised him against it, he was confident he could pay it all back. Putting our house, car and the little land we had in our hometown as collateral, he took out loans.

The success seemed quick and bright. One day one of the workers failed to throw out the previous day's food. And the next day, the employees in the new shift thought it was fresh ingredients and cooked with it. A five year old who had chicken soup got admitted to ER and passed away due to complications. The restaurant was forced to close down and dad had no way to pay back the loan sharks. I no longer enjoyed fresh food for my meals, it was always bread or fruits.

One day dad bought home fresh noodles from a nearby takeaway Chinese restaurant. Before eating, mom mixed a special sauce in it to increase the taste. After a few bites, all I could see was the blurry faces of my parents and sister in tears. When I came to my senses, the funeral was over. I stayed at my aunt's place in a small room near my cousin's.

They were nice people. Nice enough to let me finish school and also college. I was able to wash away a good part of my guilt of survival with their help. But after graduation, I couldn't bring myself to depend on them again. So, I told them a story about a fake job offer in London and packed my bags from Texas.

London slapped me in my face with the harsh reality of life. Living so many years on support, sustaining oneself without a proper job was a humongous task. When my runaway funds got depleted, I started looking for part time jobs and a few of them. As days went by, even drinking water seemed expensive. The one bedroom apartment I rent provided no sunlight as it was in the basement and the shared bathroom was torture.

Initially, I held up and told myself that everything would get better. But as the first year in London slid sneakily I realized that my plan was not fool proof and things had a very low probability of brightening up. It has been 3 years since I came to London, and I am now twenty-four. The last ounce of positivity that I had, had left me years before and I was just existing. And nowadays even existing seems painful. I felt essential to be alive so that I can be thankful to my aunt who pushed me up from a dark time. If not for her, I would have left everything behind and walked away.

I woke up from my thoughts and slowly got up from my bed and grabbed my toothbrush and paste. The walk to the shared bathroom seemed like a big ordeal. Just as I was closing my door, my phone rang loudly. Cursing the phone, I got back inside to check who it was. The broken screen of my phone shined brightly with my best friend's name on it. She was my first friend in London and remains to be the only one.

"What is it?"

"You can at least say hello!"

"Doesn't matter. Are you gonna talk or should I hang up?"

"I have a job offer."

"I am not doing another part time job."

"This one is permanent."

"What?", I asked in disbelief.

"A rich businessman has an autistic kid. You have to teach him"

"But I don't have a degree in Special Education!"

"Not a problem. You have a degree in Education and that's more than enough."

"I don't want to lie!"

"I guess you want to starve then?"

"Jenny, I am not joking."

"I am not either. If you agree to this, you will be getting a stable monthly salary of 200 pounds per day you teach and you can also stay there with your student and his mother."

"This sounds too good a deal." , I said as the money offered slowly started to dissolve my honesty. "Are you sure this is legit?"

"I am. Are you in or not?"

"Where is it?"

"Worcester"

"Woah! That's far."

"Are you in or not?"

I took a deep breath and thought for a minute. It was this or starve to death. I really had nothing more to lose. So, I decided to give this too good of an offer a chance.

"I am in!"