The voice of the night

RJ's Christmas.....

V POV:-

"Merry Christmas, my dear ones!" I murmur my greetings into the mike, "I hope you fill your tummies with that plum cake, have a fun time meeting your loved ones and hopefully steal that kiss under the mistletoe." I chuckle and with that I was off air.

Removing my leather jacket from the back of my chair, I lock the studio. Darkness floods the network of cubicles and a glass cabin beyond. A lone night-guard wishes me as I step out. Nodding in reply, I slip on the jacket. The night is cold and foggy. A fine screen of mist envelops my windshield as I turn on the ignition and hover over my next course of action.

My car maneuver slowly through the desolate roads of the city. Bright lightnings cover the malls, streamers and the smell of freshly backed cake.... ohh.. how mouth watering.. wait! where did that smell come from. A shop is brightly lit near the city square and I pull my car in the parking space.

Snappy's bakery. Open 24X7.

The sign said it all. I step out, braving a shudder as the cold wind bite at my skin. Should have dressed more warmly.

A bell rings as I enter the bakery. Its thankfully warmer interior and the sweet aroma in the air does not help to stop my excess salivation.

"What would you like to eat, dear?" An old lady behind the counter smiles warmly at the me.

"Pineapple pastry, you have some of that?" I smiled at her in response. Her warmth was contagious.

"Surely. Just take a seat." She receives my payment and disappears behind the counter as I take a seat next to the glass wall.

The city square is empty except for the occasional cars and bikes which pass by and the slurs of a drunkard were audible from a distance. The street light on the opposite side of the street flicker and I remember a memory just like this.

11 YEARS AGO:-

Snow covers the tall parapet of an Anglo-inspired Convent and the Pine tree in front of my window in all but made of Ice. I tap my fingers to the tune of the Christmas Carols that resonate from the holy Church and into this underground kitchen. The air is thick with the aroma of the freshly baked cake that Sr. Florence had just placed on the counter but not before giving me a stern look.

"It's for the feast, dear. You must not eat it right now, okay?"

I nod and she moves away working on the icing. Her white robes seem radiant even in the dim light which flickers again and I sigh. A hot vapour of mist swirls out.

"Why did you not take part in the choir, dear?" She asks as she applies the icing on the cake and starts topping it with fresh cut pineapple.

"I really don't see the purpose of it." I state and jump onto the counter. My legs dangle from it and I lament the fact that I was really short-heighted.

"Choirs are organized to sing praises on the birth of our savior, Jesus." She informs me with a warm smile.

"Oh, I get it but I don't understand that what's the big deal about being born, I mean look at me, I was born but I don't know my father and my mother died. What good is it to be born like this!" I try to reign in the sudden rage I feel. Life was rather unfair to me. Why would God give me such a life? What wrong did I do?

Sr. Florence seemed troubled, "You must not think so, Child. All the sisters of the convent are your family. See you have such a big family and God must really love you to give you such a big gift."