"Making the ungrateful grateful will bring tears to your eyes, tears of blood bleeding from the heart."
—Ana Monnar
•••
Ungratefulness.
Namely, a person who is not at all grateful towards someone for his good luck or good deed.
A person or people who don't show any gratitude or appreciation for something you have done for them. Some people tend to show ungratefulness by throwing everything you do for them straight back in your face.
We all have heard the tale of the "ungrateful lion", right?
Once upon a time, there was a lion who got trapped in a cage laid by the hunter. He cried for help to a lot of animals but none was followed with help.
At last, a man found him and set him free in an exchange that the lion will not eat him.
As soon as the lion got out, he started roaring--out--loud and decided to eat the man.
We all have heard about this tale, but the tale here sings a different song
•••
~•Midnight, the same day, 2010•~
On getting the first Gift from her so called father, Isla was a bit doubtful.
What made him change so much?
She remembers the time when her mother- no step mother, would bully her or would torture her dreams, he was to be a passive viewer. No protests, no nothing. Whenever Sam would bring her some time to abuse her intelligence, he was just a silent spectator.
Change? So suddenly?
Why was he giving her this gift?
Was he pitying her? Or was it a different way of bullying her?
Her palm clenched the box tighter. Her hands were shaky that she couldn't make them open the box.
"Go on, open it!" His face was dark but the little moonlight which was slipping through the window made it look like a white silhouette on a black canvas. She kept staring at his tough face, trying to make out what exactly was going in his mind.
The clock stroke twelve. It was midnight.
It was just like the night when Beethoven wrote the moonlight sonata for his beloved Giulietta Guicciardi [1]
So, was it just like tonight when the moon shone brighter than the sun when the whole world was fast asleep.
She wondered. After these numerous thoughts, have finally dared to open the box to find a small porcelain doll in it. It was a tiny figure of a girl made with porcelain. It had long blonde hair curved beautifully down her cheeks, just like hers. It wore a bright yellow dress which indeed looked glamorous. She kept staring at it until the mosquitoes song broke her concentration.
"How is it?" Jordan asked breaking the melodious silence.
"...it's so pretty!" She answered with a satisfactory voice ringing through her trachea.
"Really?" He let out a gush of air through his nose, satisfied.
She just nodded.
"Isla, I know that you can never place me in place of your father. A ruthless man like me, doesn't deserve to be called so, I understand. But can you please at least stop calling me father?" —he asked while covering her hand with her tiny palm which wasn't in the hold with the doll—"At least 'papa'...?" He pleaded.
Isla froze. Her body trembled. She has seen a lot of films in which people pity people but they don't plead them, do they? Then what is it? A different level of mocking? Joking?
"Why do you want me to do that?" She asked with her small warm regards for him.
"I know I've never been a good father...or even never tried to be one.. but can you give me a second chance? A second chance to be a proud father?" He asked.
His voice was really miserable.
"Why are you doing this?" She further pressed the conversation.
"Guilt" he replied, "I am guilty for being such a failure. I am a failure. I know—"
"There's a limit", she continued, "There's a limit for everything. Every evil and every good thing. Every ungrateful and every grateful thing. Every guilt and every pleasure. What is yours?"
"I have never known that there's a limit for unconditional love as a father" he firmly replied with a smile so glad and so pure.
"I will think about it" she said and turned her back towards his steep body on the bed, "You may go. It's already late, papa. Your health matters to Mrs Sam. She cares"
A sudden burst of energy, joy and happiness entered into him. He has never been so happy.
"What? What did you call me? Call me that again please? Please? Just one more time" he said, overwhelmed as he put both of his hands on her shoulders shaking her.
She was startled. Then suddenly realising his behaviour, he suddenly put his hands back to his sides.
"I'm so sorry. I probably crossed my line. Good night, Isla" He was satisfied and embarrassment covering his face, as he left the room to be covered in darkness.
No sooner did he go a million sadness flushed into her heart out of nowhere. And a million voices of confusion, doubt and a creepy insecurity she has never felt before.
He was satisfied.
She was not. It was enough of mental torment for today. She can't take it in anymore.
She sighed and rolled back into the bad and tucked herself in the sheets. Today's been a real day.
•••
The clock was showing half-past twelve.
On opening the door, he found his wife standing in front of him with a worried face.
"You? Here? Were you eavesdropping?" Jordan asked with an angry tone.
"I pity you, Jordan. CEO of the Chillerian Government Institution is emotional for an ungrateful child like her? Haah,I really Pitty You" she said in a nasty mocking tone.
"What do you mean ' ungrateful child'?"
•••
[1] Countess Giulietta Guicciardi was the pupil of Sir Ludwig van Beethoven. It is said that he fell in love with her. While making the "moonlight sonata" he dedicated this To his love.
——
This is a combo chapter. Don't miss this. And in case you haven't heard moonlight sonata, I added the video in the video section. You can hear that, it's a piece of awesome soothing music.
—This Part Is Edited—
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