Twinkle
Time flies so quickly. Dora has been here for two weeks now. Well yes, I still call her Dora. The word Mum can't just come out. And Dad too, I wonder if they shared no love. He also calls her Dora. Well they were separated for years so I shouldn't expect them to be all lovely-dovely.
She now prepares my meals. The first time I tasted her food, I couldn't believe Rice and Stew could taste so delicious. The maid never really prepares meals because it's a disaster. It's either there's too much salt, pepper or oil. One time, she gave served me a half cooked rice. I don't want to criticize her too much because I too have no idea about cooking apart from noodles. We couldn't fire her cause of her family situation. This is her only source of income. So we all resolved to eat out and she was banned from the kitchen. Eating homemade food felt really good. But at first, I complained about it. I lied saying it taste awful. I wanted her to suffer a bit for denying me of her food all these years.
Dora
I can't help but think about that young girl. I didn't get to know her name or anything else neither did her. I hope she's OK now. Twinkle has gone for her piano lessons; she's using it to pass time while waiting for her admission. I wouldn't say we're getting closer, but we're somewhere. I head out to the supermarket to buy some things for my personal use.
"Good Morning" a voice greets me as am about to leave the supermarket. It sounds familiar, I turn my gaze and it is the girl I found crying
“Oh Good Morning, how are you?” the look on her face shows she recognizes me
"I’m fine Ma"
“I didn't get to know your name the last time we met”
“My name is Bella”.
“Bella” I say
“Let's sit over there” I point at the seat outside the supermarket.
“I’m so sorry about last time; I didn't mean to spoil your foodstuffs”
"No, it Ok. There wasn't much things affected. So tell me about you. And I’m not going to take nothing for an answer this time. What’s making you tired of life?"
"Well, that day some people made fun of me concerning my mother”.
"Your Mother” I reply
“What happened to her”
“I didn't grow up with my Mom; I don't even know what she looks like”.
"Did she die during delivery" I ask.
"No, I don't know".
"What about your dad, what did he tell you about her?"
"He doesn't know her either. He's not my birth father; he said he saw me wandering on the road when I was 2. He took me in and trained me till now”.
“OK, so some people made fun of you because you don't have a mom and you began crying saying you’re tired of life”.
“It was so painful, their words pierced my heart”.
“It's not as though I don't understand your pain but will you keep crying each time they tease you” I ask
“You will continue to suffer if you have an emotional reaction to everything that is said to you. If words control you then everything else can control you. Breathe and allow everything to pass. Don't ever feel tired of life” I continue.
“There are over 7 billion persons in the world for you to meet and nearly two hundred beautiful countries for you to explore. There are so many new exciting foods you haven't tried yet and wonderful adventures to have. Don't let their words control your emotions”.
Bella
I’m not the type that tells just any stranger my problem. But I was oddly comfortable talking to her. Her words gave me strength. I took her phone number and address. Maybe I'll need her presence once more.
I’m ok now, let me head home. Home!! I think I misplaced my words. I don't have a home, just a house. I walk into my room and sit on the bed. I wander off in my thoughts while looking at the family portrait hanging on the wall in my room.
I have a dream where the sky is blue, fields are green. A song of love is the only thing heard, and laughter is the only language used. But reality is completely opposite of what we dream for. It's as though life conspire to give us what we never asked for. I wish my dreams could become reality and reality becomes my dreams. But that's also a Dream.
"Bella, where have you been? Don't try this nonsense next time, I’m heading out. Make sure you wash my clothes, tidy the house and prepare meals. Clean my baby's room too. Don't make me talk when I get back, or else you'll get it hot with me” A voice from behind interrupts my thoughts
There was a time when this voice only wanted to care for me, love me and make me smile. My happiness, my tears affected it. This voice once said "You'll always be my Daughter", but I’m amazed at how humans can change in a twinkle of the eye, forgetting the promises and life they once lived.
I've become more of a housemaid than a daughter, more like Cinderella with an evil step mom. There's no need to apportion blames. As they say, blood is thicker than water. Nevertheless, I feel they are both essential for living.
YOU ARE READING
CrossRoads
Teen FictionShe really thought it was all for the best. After Everything she did, was it worthwhile? This is a story where Everyone intertwines with someone, paths cross, people meet and life happens.
