Orphan in Limbo

Visitors

"I finally understand what are you even talking about, Frank!" The young singer exclaimed plainly as soon as they headed up to the women's wing by pacing up in the long, abysmal hallway as a reassured smile blossomed on her berry-coloured, soft lips. 

"Yeah, definitely, Odette! I remember perfectly after yar birth when I visited yar mother's office, how ya were clunged to her, rocking you in her loving, maternal arms. Even your father was there or you were actually in his office, when Judy was busy." The former cop took a deep breath as the brunette cleared her throat as its acute stench in the women's wing was a common phenomenon especially for the orderlies, security guards, nuns and inmates, regardless how much they fought with evading its discomforting smell, clogging their noses with a handful of fingers. Meantime as the middle-aged man's monologue proceed, the orphan couldn't be more content even smug when he was telling her all this which was peculiarly the truth itself. "Whenever she had a free time, she spent it with you and Timothy only. She was very doted on you just like yar father." As soon as they stepped beside the young singer's ward, he unlocked it with his old, rusty key as the door flung opened in a matter of seconds after the first click, consequently permitting the both adults enter in the compact, mere ward. 

"So you want to tell me they loved me even if I'm not with them as family?" The love child stammered, finding herself in such situation where the explainations were the escape to her vexed, sophisticated question, figuring out the answers she's looking for. In the meantime, the security guard arched an eyebrow as Odette seated on the edge of her ragged, shabby, filthy bed by laying herself down to catnap for a while, whereas Frank approached her by standing by her left side as a benevolent, beaming smile distorted across his dry lips.

"Of course, they have always loved you since you appeared in this cold, coarse world!" He replied enthusiastically, emphatically as he held in one of his mammoth, veiny hands his old, rusty keys for the other wards and rooms of the nuthouse. "Never forget that, Odette! You are as special as them." 

***

Flashback

26th of March, 1943

A day after Odette's birth, the young nun laid in her after the weary, nonetheless satisfying giving a life to the new life, embracing it as her and Timothy's child, she was resting in her compact bed where she shared her cold, desolating nights as its lurking darkness of her sinful past encircled her like ghosts of the past, roaming around her en-suite bedroom.

Heavy rain weeped outside as dozens of crystal, rain drops streamed down, sheeting the ground by soaking everything below.

Miraculously, the days were rainy and cloudy, besides solid, dingy clouds swam in the grayish, mist sky. The nature flourished once the winter died as the spring dawned on the horizon.

Furthermore, the sister of the church wore her cotton white nightgown with long sleeves, ankle length. Whereas she didn't wear her dark wool wimple that covered her ringlet of honey old Hollywood curls, cascading down her shoulders, in fact, she was exceedingly fatigued from the birth and the habit and the wimple altogether pressured her even more after the labouring.

Little did she know what an elating miracle was for her, tantalizing the young mother.

The blonde has already breastfed her little sweet ray of sunshine as her daughter laid peacefully in her secure, loving arms, collecting the necessary nutrients for her growth. In the interim, Jude sung a lullaby to the infant with her eloquent, honeyed voice as her eyelids partly blinked as if butterfly's polychromatic, dazzling wings unfold, incessantly flipping with her long, thick eyelashes.