The Guy Way Below Average

I wake up as sun rays hit my face, and then go to the bathroom. I splash the cool water all over my face. I look up my reflection in the mirror, seeing such an unkempt person every morning in my life makes me feel sick. I hate my miserable life, I hate having nothing to share with the people, but my misery and scruffy presence. My dad... I wish he was here to give me and my mother what we’ve lost after fire. It’s not just our home and everything we got burned down and got lost with the fire. My mother has lost her hope and, I have lost my desire to live. I still ask myself why I do live. ’To see her face...’  This answer is coming up as quickly as the previous question is coming up on my mind. I don’t have a purpose on living, but have a reason to keep breathing. That reason is Jessica. Jessica had become one and only light in my life. I met her when I went to go pick up my mother where she works as maid.

I’d been being rejected after having a not-so-good job interview with the companies I’d found at those times. They found me way below their standards. How could I blame them for my uselessness, I couldn’t even graduate from high school let alone having a college degree. I remember when my mother said we can’t afford for school anymore, I was still so naive back then that I believed it was a good thing. Within a few weeks some of my friends from the school left me alone, and some forced to do so by their parents. It’d been said I was an astray, how else I’d be dropped the school? I never tried to prove the suffering and my innocence to people who has no faith in me. Whatever had happened, it made me realize life has no fun in it and makes you take it seriously until you do. I still can’t find a job, can’t afford to going to a school, all I can do is helping my mother in chores. She was cleaning up any mess and making everything had washed and cleaned in her maid job. I was doing same thing for our little house, because when she arrives to the home, she becomes too tired to do anything. Our house consists of one bedroom, a living room adjacent to kitchen and a bathroom so my housework is easier than hers. Not much laundry to do also because there isn’t many clothing left after fire. She tried to patch clothes which had some little burns and holes on them. I tried to stop her doing that, she was so bad at sewing and our clothes were going to be her first needlework draft. It could be better for them to not to be patched up by my mother but I gave up stop her doing that after seeing her so passionate about it. If she was going to be happy about it I wouldn’t mind wearing so poorly patched up clothes.

After being rejected again on a job interview I went to pick up my mother from the place she works for. It was very large residence; I’d come here before but had never seen inside of it. I ringed the doorbell and waited a little. Door had been opened by another maid working there. She greeted me inside and told me to wait for my mom. I sat down to a chair placed in the vestibule. Interior of the residence was unsurprisingly impressive. Expensive furniture, floral slight smell, silky curtains and many other things were making an intensive composition to amaze people. The doorbell ringed once more. I looked up to see the person who came to house. The person standing at the door was a girl in her twenties. She was curvy and had a presentable look. Her brown hair and green eyes were decorating her rosy face.

“Welcome to home Miss Jessica,” said the old maid to the girl standing at the door. She handed the bag she was carrying to maid. Her fingernails were painted black, as if they wanted to draw attention from her delicate and small hands to themselves.

“Who is that guy?” she asked looking towards me. Her high pitched voice was tickling my ears as she spoke.

“He came for Helen,” said the old woman. I got up from the chair and came close to them to speak.

“Helen is my mother, she works here,” I explained to Jessica.

“I know who Helen is. She’s a decent person who has been working here for years, glad to meet her son. I’m Jessica.”

“I’m Daniel.” I introduced myself then shook hands with Jessica.

“Please make feel yourself at home. Helen would be here within a few minutes,” said Jessica, made a gesture to show me living room. She turned to old maid woman,

“Tell my mom I have a meeting, won’t be home until eight p.m.” she said before she walked outside.

It was the first time I met her. I can’t get out her shiny eyes and nice behavior of my thoughts. She gave me a reason to live.

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