The Playground (Book #1)

one

The orchids seem slightly duller today. I'm not sure why. I must be imagining it; I sit in the orchid patch far too often.

When my father was alive, he used to grow all types of flowers. A vivacious mixture of roses, daffodils, and lilacs grew abundantly all around the house but the backyard was the special place for the orchids. He loved orchids. The white ones especially. They were delicate, beautiful little things. Beauty that was superior to any other flower he had ever seen. My name; Laelia, comes from the plant. Now that he's gone, the flower tending has become my duty. I've never once complained. I love working with the flowers. I tend to them as carefully as father would; gentle and steady.

I sit among the white blossoms with my eyes closed and my mind at ease. I let my muscles relax and my make thoughts go still, letting the sound of the breeze being my only focus. This garden; it's a good place. One of the few places where I have found comfort and solace. Where safety seems so close and so near. But no matter how much I cling to it, no matter how hard I beg for it to stay; it never lasts, this rare thing I call safety. They won't let it.

"Laelia!" My mother calls me from the back porch. I reluctantly tilt my head backward to see her small figure and let out a sigh. Although she's in her mid forties she looks unfortunately old and withered. All the years of worry and disappointment have given her premature wrinkles, thinned hair, and creases under her eyes. I stand up, wipe the dirt off my clothes, and start to walk toward our house. It's wooden with chipped white paint and light blue shutters and sits upon a hill, isolated from the neighbors below. I look up at the sky and notice that there is only a slither of the sun left shining, yet I can still feel its warmth on my bronze skin. I try to savor it; for summer is coming to a close, and fall will soon be setting in.

"Come set the table, we're having dinner." Mother spits. My younger siblings have already organized themselves in the kitchen. My younger sister Pleione takes out cups and my younger brother Dim sets the utensils. I decide to set the place mats. Mother arranges the meal onto the table and then we all sit down. She says a short prayer and slowly we begin to eat. I hate dinner time. Quiet a lot actually. As awful as it may sound, I don't despise anyone as much as I do my mother. Every day she has something new to ridicule me on. No matter how hard I try, I can never measure up to the daughter she want's me to be. And with the test coming tomorrow. Oh no....the test. I had tried not to think about it all day. Tried not to let it creep into my thoughts, but there it was. My stomach tied into a firm knot, my palms began to sweat. Every time I thought about it I couldn't contain my anguish, I couldn't contain my fear. As if reading my thoughts, Mother says, 

"Have you thought about tomorrow?"

 I quickly take a large bite of food to avoid speaking and shake my head no. I immediately regret doing so because she furrows her brows in disapproval. "Well," She begins, clearly irritated, "You may want to get to it, considering how very important this is to your future..." I continue to over chew my food as an excuse not to talk.

 "Laelia" My mother says furiously. I jump just a little at her sudden sharpness. 

 "I'm worried. You seem to show absolutely no interest whatsoever for this test. How in the world do expect to pass it at all? I mean have you even called Oleander like I told you? You know, your successful sinless brother who could possibly give you a steer in the right direction?" I finally swallow, my body boiling with anger. "I will never speak to Oleander." I snap. "It's not like he would care enough to give me any advice anyway. He clearly has bigger priorities." My mother instantly fires back. "You know he's extremely busy Laelia. His job is so demanding and he's got a lot to take care of. I'm sure he's tried several times. You haven't even tried once." I don't bother to retort back. She always takes his side. Her perfect little angel Oleander. Just last year, when Oleander was sixteen, he had set out for his test along with the hundreds of other kids coming from across The Enchantment. When he came back, he held out a golden certificate in hand. We knew then and there that he had passed. Mother was ecstatic. When you've failed the test and have been exiled to poverty like she has, having a sinless son finally gave you something to brag about. Since then she's completely worshiped him. He promised to call every week through the comm. He promised to visit once holiday rolled around. He promised to do a lot of things. But he was the first of many people to teach me how promises are meant to be broken. Mother was always making excuses for him, saying that whatever kept him away was far more important and couldn't be unattended to. The sinless world is a far different world, she would say. I yearned for mother to look at me with the same proud and happy eyes that she had when she looked at Oleander. I wanted to show her how worth it I was, how I could do anything Oleander did; even become sinless and perfect. But I doubt she's ever going to accept me even half the way that she adores him.