The Little Infinities

01 - The End Of The World (Or Part Thereof)

01- The End Of The World (Or Part Thereof)

"I don't understand why you can't just pay the bills for once, Martha," My dad groaned, his voice low and dangerous. I rolled my eyes. They're always at each other's throats, ever since the incident.

"Me? Me, pay the bills? Need I remind you that you are the man of this house and if it weren't for your incompetence we wouldn't be where we are right now!" My mom fired back, her temper rising. "You expect me to take my mother's precious and hard-earned money to pay for something you promised you would have covered? In your dreams!"

My mother was a proud woman. She had come from a wealthy family. So had Papa, who is French. But their families disagreed with their marriage. 'French do not mix with British commoners' had been Papa's justification for throwing him out. Sometimes I agree with them.

Tired of their arguments, I trekked upstairs, the hollow stairs creeking under my weight. College decisions come out today, I reminded myself, college decisions come out today. I had applied to no less than twelve collages, Harvard and Yale amongst all of them.

Sitting near my window, I watched the bustling street below, keeping a watchful eye for the pearl white scooter that carried all my mail. I knew a few letters had already arrived, but Papa felt it would be much easier to open them all at once.

He was wrong, the anticipation was eating at me from the inside.

I must have fallen asleep for a few hours because when I woke up, dusk had already fallen and the house was bursting with music. That meant my mom was cooking. Which always turns out to be a disaster.

'PAPA!" I yelled from my door over the loud music. "ARE MY LETTERS HERE YET?"

"Oui, ma fille!" My dad called from downstairs.

My eyes widening in shock, I scrambled from my cramped position and ran down the stairs hastily. Thundering down the steps, I could hear my mother screeching from the kitchen. Rolling my eyes, I quickly grab my letters from the pile on the floor.

I count them carefully, yes, all twelve of them, and I could see the coat of arms of Harvard, Yale, Oxford and a couple others. I scanned through them carefully, making sure they were all addressed correctly to me.

"Papa, let's open-"

"Your mother isn't going to be happy if you're so happy you can't eat dinner after," My dad said, though calmly, I could hear a tinge of bitterness creeping into his voice.

"Ma isn't going to know over all this music," I shook my head, unable to resist the urge to grin. My letters were here, I smiled, my letters were here.

Closing my eyes and randomly picking an envelope from the stack, I swiftly drew it out and tossed the rest to my dad. He caught it perfectly, French reflexes I presumed.

Gingerly tearing off the corner, I pulled out my letter from Stamford. I hungrily read the letter, taking in every word until--

We regret to inform you that your application has not been accepted. Thank you for your application and all the best for your collage decisions.

The letter seemed to have slipped from my finger.

"What's wrong, ma chérie?" My dad asked, his brows furrowed.

Regaining my composure, I reminded myself, "It's just one letter, you didn't really want to go anyway."

"Nothing, Papa, can you pass me another letter please?" I asked. Shrugging, my dad plucked a thin letter from Duke University and handed it to me.

The same words.

We regret to inform you that your application has not been accepted. Thank you for your application and all the best for your college decisions.

Taking deep breathes, I reasoned, "Two letters, not a big deal."

Everytime I put down another letter on the table, my dad would pass me another one and we quickly worked through the pile.

Another one.

We regret to inform you that your application has not been accepted. Thank you for your application and all the best for your college decisions.

Another one.

We regret to inform you that your application has not been accepted. Thank you for your application and all the best for your college decisions.

Another one.

We regret to inform you that your application has not been accepted. Thank you for your application and all the best for your college decisions.

Over and over again, I read the same sentences, with the occasional variation of words. It came to the point where my father stopped handing me letters and I was viciously snatching them away from him, my breathing heavy and ragged. Soon, I had gone through eleven envelopes, all with the same tone of polite rejection.

There was still one more letter, I told myself, one more letter.

My hands shaking, I tore open the envelope and I read through the letter carefully, making sure I did not miss out any word.

And there it was. The same, unmistakable two lines:

We regret to inform you that your application has not been accepted. Thank you for your application and all the best for your college decisions.

I could barely believe my eyes, all twelve colleges... rejected me?

"Ophelia..." I heard my dad attempt to draw my attention to him, but there was a loud ringing in my ears, irritating and sharp.

This was it.

This was the end of the world.