Belle | #1

09| Meraki

0 9 

M e r a k i

(v.) to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself into your work.

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Why fit in when you were born to s t a n d out?

  – Dr. Seuss

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I AM ON A ROLL OMG Y E S.

UNEDITED BECAUSE ADRENALIN.

Enjoy,

PS - DOESN'T ZENDAYA QUEEN SLAY HOLY SHIT KILL MEH

xoxo

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Ella tried not to seem annoyed.

But it was hard to – considering it was twelve in the afternoon, and the sun was blazing its rays on her, despite the cold gushes of wind – because she had to wake up extra early on a Saturday just because this particular client had a sudden schedule change.

The straps of her bags weighed down on her shoulders as she waited for the bus, and Ella could feel every single ounce of the things she carelessly shoved into her train-cases and shoulder bags. It wasn't easy, she would admit, to be a high-school student with an out-and-about job that constantly had appointments and deadlines.

It was a warning her grandmother gave her – Ella, my dear, I don't want you to go through all that hectic mess – but Ella knew it had to be done. It wasn't in question; she simply needed to work to able to support the three of them – her grandfather included – and she knew it wasn't going to be easy.

But she didn't think it was going to be this hard, either.

Even though it was already autumn, the afternoon was fairly hot. Ella could feel sweat collect at the nape of her neck, dampening her hair. Ella was so tempted to remove the heavy jacket she decided to wear, but once she remembered how many straps her shoulders were carrying, she decided against it.

Once the bus finally arrived, and Ella gingerly took a seat against the window, she removed her burgundy scarf and tucked it in one of her bags. She was waiting for the bus for over two hours – she woke up at five in the morning for god's sake – and by the time Ella stepped out of her house, it was freezing. By eleven-thirty, the weather took a turn and Ella found herself suffocating in the clothes she decided to pick.

She opened the window a bit, letting out a sigh when she could feel the cold air rush against her. She felt congested for some weird reason – she blamed it on the itchy, woolen scarf she chose to wear – but Ella chose to ignore the thought because she was going to be in this clammy bus for another hour and a half.

An elderly lady settled herself beside Ella, and Ella could already feel her eyes on her. Ella felt uncomfortable under her gaze, shuffling a little in her seat. The elderly lady only sat for precisely seven seconds more before she scurried away to another seat, but not before Ella could hear her mutter Filthy hybrid.

Ella had to admit that by now – after seventeen long years – she should be used to it by now. But there was just something so painful about it every single time, by different people, in different places, during different times – but they all implied the same thing.