Charity

"Ouch! Ouch! Hot! Hot!", Brenda all but shouted while guzzling down water straight from the jug. Her companion didn't even bat an eye at her action, save for the slight almost invisible tilt of her lips. " Told you, honey. An Indian's spice tolerance is no joke," she said sporting an evil smirk.

"Alright, alright, I surrender, Miss-I-eat-Carolina-reapers-with-hot-sauce-as-a-snack. But I did learn my lesson. Note to self: Throw yourself under a bus rather than challenging an Indian's spice tolerance," she said fanning her tongue. Unfortunately, she missed the shadow which flitted upon the other's face for a split second.

"Now, now, that's a bit extreme. Though you are more annoying than a mosquito, I sure do enjoy your company," she said flashing a grin which vanished as soon as her eyes fell on upon the clock. "Oh my, would you look at the time? I need to hurry if I don't want to be late. Would you like to come along, Brenda? she said rushing around like a mini-tornado.

"As tempting as that is, I need to get back. The kids are trying to surprise me with an improntu party but thet are doing a terrible job at hiding it. This morning, Jack completely spilled the truth but he didn't even realize it," she said chuckling. "See you later. And for the love of sweet Jesus, refrain from giving yourself too much heartburn," she said walking out of the quaint apartment.

The lady waved back at her companion as soon as she was out of night, she let her cheery facade drop. Her knuckles turned ghostly white from gripping the kitchen counter too hard. Ten years. Its been ten long miserable years yet the word 'kids' never fails to bring her equal amounts of heartwrenching pain and sorrowful joy. She hastily wiped the traitorous tears which has slipped down her cheeks without permission. 'Deep breaths, slowly inhale and exhale, calm down,' she firmly instructed herself. After a few minutes, her mind was finally away from its internal agony, she grabbed the bags resting on the countertop. Checking that she had her phone, car keys and purse, she stepped out. Locking the door, she got in her car and drove off.

After a fifteen minutes drive, she finally reached her destination. A dull grey two-storeyed building. She walked down the barren courtyard and pushed open the large wooden door. Immediately she was swarmed by little humans, some barely grazing her knees. Laughing softly, she bent down and gave each one a tender kiss on their forehead and a loving hair ruffle. "Alright, my little angels who is up for some spicy blackberry muffins?" A loud chorus of "Me! Me! " filled the air. It may have been a raucous but it was the chaos which motivated her to brave another day. A soft serene smile remained etched on her face after seeing the group of kids rambunctiously devour the food. She may have failed to feed one kid but she would be damned if she let these kids have the experience of going to bed on an empty stomach.

For ten years, she cooks atleast a meal for the children of the nearby Springfield Orphanage. No matter how exhausted she is, she never fails in her duty. And once a week, she would make fresh delicacies for them. People have always applauded her but nothing brings her more unblemished satisfaction and unfiltered happiness than seeing the gleaming grins adorning their faces.

After spending some time with the kids, she finally bade them adieu and drove off with the promise of cheesy raviolis the next time. This time when the ignition of her car stopped, it wasn’t in front of her empty apartment. Rather it was a forlorn place, a cemetery.

Taking dep breathes, she steeled herself and clutching a small paper bag, she stepped in. No matter how many times she comes here, her nerves would always fail her and her heart would howl in despair.
She stepped in front of a all too familiar headstone with an achingly familiar epitaph. “Ananya Thakur, 28th November 2000- 28th November 2010. A loving angel, missed by all, now happily playing with her dolls forever.” She cracked a broken smile. “Hey love, how are you doing? Remember the time you told me you wanted to be an angel? I always knew you were one, but I just never dreamt how soon you would become one so soon. Happy 12th birthday, honey. Mommy loves you, so, so much,” she wailed, her tears drenching the paper bad nestled in her palms. After a long while, she finally composed herself and took out the now soggy spicy blueberry muffin out of the bag and placed it in front of the block of stone and lit up a candle on top of it. She sang “Happy Birthday” to her daughter. A singular tear escaped her eye at the memory of the incident which happened almost ten years ago.

“I am so sorry, Mrs. Thakur. Ananya has sustained fatal injuries from the accident. Almost 60% of her body has been crushed due to the collision. Despite best efforts from the doctor, her heart gave out five minutes after she was rushed into the operation theatre."