Coding Decoding | discontinued

t h r e e

~•Mid of May, 2010•~

"The only true immortality lies in one's children."
- Johannes Brahms

•••

The day was quite sunny and surprisingly Jordan was returning home early too. The work wasn't much, moreover the President went on a trip and so the other works were supported by some other executive directors. Delegates and other second hand ministers were sent home early too.

The evening birds were chirping and the orange hot sun was drowning into the depths of the water fountain. Old men who have their shops open were lighting cheap cigarettes and were puffing out deep fumes. Old women who have their sweet shops were gushing waters in front of their shops, cleaning mud and dust of the days old sweats and tediousness. And in those waters, both Sun and Jordan reflected their souls.

He got out in a sluggish manner as always and went to the garage for his car. The garage was out of his office zone. This was kind of weird thing but also so beneficial for any run-out emergency. But who knows? He reached out for his keys in his left pocket when he saw something in front of the office exit.

A kid of some 8-9 years was on his father's shoulder and there he was dancing cheerfully, enjoying his high - merry position. The parent was moving his head with his lips curved in joy. The side of the eyes of Jordan were turning red eventually.

It was in any minute that the moisture in his eyes could roll down. He never had a child of his own. But he never blamed his wife for that. Because he knew that it was impossible for Sam to have babies, ever. But now when he has a kid at his home, he should feel happy. He should dance in joy that God gave him a last chance, then why is he not? He should play with her, then why he isn't?

From his prospective, Sam never wanted Isla to grow up as a normal kid should. She kept her in strict discipline, more like in the boarding school. As a child, she was never allowed to go out of the house in morning or in afternoon. Even if she is allowed, she had to accompany them.

Secrecy, you say? I guess not.

She wasn't allowed to keep long hairs or even keep hairs in front of her ears. She was given food in a limited diet. Long hours in front of the computer screen to break stronger and stronger codes as the days passed. But he never blamed Samantha for that. She had her own way of bringing up a child, isn't it? She, perhaps, wants her- no, their, child to grow up in a unique manner, where everyone shall look up to her, where everyone shall praise her.

He never blamed Samantha. He would never blame her.

"Papa papa, can I buy this?" That little kid blurted out breaking his trance.

Jordan stood their glancing at the two figures and the dawn started falling. He just smiled with tears on his left eye, clinging.

"Papa..." Jordan whispered, now no longer to his head. He kept his left hand on his chest and took a deep breath. How much he wanted to hear this small four letter word! The scent of those old childhood days, when he used to hold his dad's hand and used to walk all long distance to school covered his mind. He will be a sincere person. He will change.

"Nothing's too late, right?" He asked, looking down, a swept tear fell on his boots.

-

"Where are you? Roger?"

"Here, Mother" she replied in a monotonous tone, hurrying from the lawn.

"Where were you? You do realize that it's already been a whole minute. You should know how to-" Before she could continue, Isla spoke up.

"I'm sorry for being late. I promise not to recur it again."

"Uh-hmm... Do not give me that attitude, young lady!" Sam breathed out. "Isla, Mama wants to tell you about-"

"My mama is dead" she replied, while broadening her eyes she continued, emphasising on every word, "And you're not my Mama. You said that yourself, haven't you?"

There was a dead silence suddenly. And it seemed that a sudden suffocation filled the room.

"How could you even say that? I have never talked like that about your mom! Instead we all know, how of a beggar she was-"

"Mrs. Samantha Michelle!" she snapped.

"Don't you dare take my full name, you little piece of charity! Where are your manners? Talking like that to your mother!"

"Even these pure words like mother don't suit you!"

"Islared Roger! You're crossing your limit!"

The dead silence filled in again. And that suffocating air forced in the room and was about you kill everyone within.

Sam left the room, closing the door behind her back and only her angry footsteps were heard going down the stairs.

Suddenly the whole room was light and that silence had crept in again, the lights from the other window had finally become brighter. The day had been a merry little opportunity for both of them.

Isla stoop down from where she was standing. Yes, she was hurt, terribly. Not enough to say. She lost her second mother too. Probably not physically but both mentally and physically she was done. She was done hearing that she was not their real heir. She was done been treated like a miserable doll. Why adopt anyone without whom you have no chance of happiness with? Why put someone through hell at the first place with a fake happy smile clinging? Why love someone when all you want to do with them is continuously make them feel unwanted? Why love someone when you just not have a heart?

A shinny silver drop of tear fell on her palms. Let's just call it a day.

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-This Part Is Edited-