Mary: The Untold Story

Part I: Life in Spain

Chapter One

I know I am a miserable child. This reality has been whispered in my ear since the day I was born, in the form of actions. Disowning me. Shunning me. Ignoring me. I barely know my mother, let alone my father. The only thing I really know is that I don’t have the life I deserve—that I need! It is the same every day: I wake, clean myself up, and get to my studying. This is my only comfort. Reading. Discovering. Understanding. It is an incredible experience. I long to be a great scholar someday; to be loved by all who know me. Yet I know that future is impossible. My life is incapable of being so wonderful. Right now, I live in Spain, in a small cottage on the countryside. It really is lovely here, I can at least say that. I am fifteen years of age, turning on sixteen in just a months time! There is absolutely no reason for me to get excited about my birthday, because it is not the least bit celebrated—not even by me. My birthdays simply tell me that I am one year closer to death, not that death is such a terrible thing. Really, death is just freedom from life, and what do I have now that I can’t afford to lose? I await my death with joy, unlike the rest of humans. It is so strange. If anyone were to merely mention death, people start to get incredibly sober. It doesn't make any sense. Death is a cause to be happy, knowing that someday, you will be liberated from all your depression, heartbreaks, and tears. It is such a refreshing feeling. I live under the custody of my father, whom I have never set eyes on before. All he did was pay some family on this countryside a handsome sum of money, and, like magic, they agreed to take care of me, or so they call it. Every day, the mother puts one single stale piece of bread and a small glass of goat’s milk under my door, as if I’m some kind of animal. As if they don’t have enough food to share—they’ve got plenty of goats, cows, sheep, and chickens, and they say they are low on food! That is just an excuse to give me the bare minimum! No, not even minimum, below minimum. God, how horrid. Thus, I go each day with just one single piece of stale bread and a glass of goat’s milk, and I am left hungry and dissatisfied. The only reason why I have plenty of books to study from is because my father wanted me to be a smart girl, so every year he sends the family some books for me to study from. Thank God I have my books. Thank God! Ah yes, there is just one more wonderful thing in my life, though it (or should I say he) is getting less wonderful by the minute. He is the son of the family who watches over me. His name is Conrad. I can feel my heart beating the moment I hear his name, and that is very often. Since my cottage is so close to his, I can hear his mother calling him, “Conrad! You forgot to milk the goats!”, “Conrad, you get back over here and wear some shoes!”, “Conrad, don’t you go wandering off when you’re supposed to be watching the goats!”. You get the idea. The unfortunate thing about him is that…well…he already loves someone. I see them all the time. In fact, just a few days ago, the girl (Ana) and Conrad were flirting right before my very eyes. I look out of the window and what do I see? Conrad had his arms wrapped around her waist, looking at her the way I wish he would look at me. She’s giggling, like an idiot. She probably doesn’t know the difference between the color red or blue. Although, I must admit, she is beautiful. She has dancing blue eyes, ringlets of golden hair, and a fair, clear complexion. I, on the other hand, have piercing black eyes, (okay, fine, brown, but they really look black!) and lifeless, limp dark brown hair. I always wear it in one braid, right down my back. My skin is nothing like Ana’s, where hers is radiant and lovely, mine is pale and gloomy. It is such a disappointment in nature, how one human being can be so beautiful, and one so horrid. Talking about beautiful human beings, Conrad is also one of those fortunate human beings. He has tousled, raven black hair and twinkling green eyes (at least I think, I was never close enough to really know). He is tall and manly…and everything else wonderful. It is such a pity he has to love a girl like Ana. Although she is beautiful, she is also incredibly stupid! And I’m not just saying that because I’m spiteful. She really is. Conrad never notices me, and in the rare case that he does acknowledge my sorry existence, he refers to me as, “that girl”. He might as well say, “that animal”, or, “that monster”. He could at least call me by my name. Conrad is not the only person to treat me with such inferiority—his entire family does! Obviously, the mother’s opinion of me is illustrated in the way she “takes care” of me. Yes, the stale, disgusting bread was absolutely scrumptious. Dear God, just who does she think I am? A street urchin, perhaps? No, actually street urchins are better, they actually have freedom. Okay, fine, I know I am in a rather…unfortunate circumstance. But that doesn’t mean I am to be treated like dirt! She could at least have some bit of sympathy for me! It’s incredible how inhumane human beings can be. Anyway, I mustn’t go whining about what a terrible life I live (even though I do). Instead, I will tell you my story—the whole story of me, from beginning to end.