Beautiful Dead

1.There is always hope

The wind suddenly rose. Laila shivered uncontrollably as she stood by the street. Gazing up above her, the dark clouds seem to forecast an impending heavy downpour. Although she had her cardigan on, the strong biting wind seemed to penetrate into her bones. Gripping the basket of fruits firmly in her hands, Laila arranged her shawl securely around her neck before moving off to a more prominent spot of the street.

She had to finish the sale of biscuits before returning back home or her adopted parents would give her a sound beating and send her off to bed without her dinner. She shuddered at those thoughts for such painful experiences, which happened occasionally, were unforgettable. How could one survive a night on an empty stomach and be expected to work hard the next day?

Laila lost both her parents in a car accident when she was eight years old. Her father's best friend took pity on her and adopted her. At first, she was treated well but when the family got into financial difficulties a few years later, she was blamed for bringing bad luck to the family. So, laila's foster father named, Mr. Klaus stopped her schooling and forced her to be a street peddlar to bring in extra income. She missed her real parents so much.

As tears flowed down her cheeks, it started to drizzle. Her hunger pangs started but she ignored them as she approached the passing crowd.

"Sir won't you buy some biscuits from me?" laila asked, half pleading as she pestered one potential customer after another. There were different responses from them.Some of them were curious and merely glanced quickly at her biscuits before walking away. Others were indifferent and replied that they were in a hurry to get back home. One of them even eyed her suspiciously and asked if she had applied for a license to sell biscuits.

"Oh! Why are people so unsympathetic! Their heart seem to be made of steel, void of feelings for a pathetic figure like me," Laila muttered under her breathe as discouragement set heavily upon her. Her tears were camouflaged be the falling rain. Looking downcast and totally weary, laila walked towards a shelter.

It was as if God knew her misery for someone walked up to her and asked her how much her biscuits cost. It was a young lady whose kind eyes met her sorrowful ones and who had been observing laila from the other side of the street. Somewhat moved by laila's state, she took a fifty dollar note and paid for the remaining biscuits. That took laila by surprise. Her face lit up with a smile, a grateful smile to the lady who possessed such a kind soul. With the money she earned, laila then made her way home, having been assured that kind souls are still in existence, What a comforting thought.