Song of the Firebird

Twenty one

It had been a rough week.

Her current job required more traveling unlike her previous ones. At her age, she wondered aloud about her ability to commute often. People like her usually rest in their home watching soaps, knitting scarves, baking pies or taking care of their grandchildren. She, on the other hand, had to catch up with medical trends and convince doctors to buy the medicine from her boss' pharmaceutical company. Her feet rested only in the backseat of the taxis. Driving a car seemed too troublesome for her. She feared that she might set the engine on fire for all the verbal pressure she was put in.

All her life, she took up odd jobs. She fell in love with a man at a tender age of fifteen and carried his child. Due to lack of proper financial and educational support, she could only look for low profile jobs. Not a year after the birth of their daughter, his husband was murdered over his familial dispute. Her parents abandoned her over teen pregnancy and refused to even pay a visit to their granddaughter.

The teen mother swayed in her morals and submitted to her fate. Literally, she was pushed to accept what was thrown at her side. She resisted for years and eventually gave in, admitting that her two-member family needed security from monsters outside and her young self craved for more. She desperately wanted to fall in love again. Her hormones demanded the company of opposite sex.

Out on a whim, she dated men and her longest relationship lasted only a month or less. Their senses blasted shut as soon as they dreamed of spending their dollars for another brat's daughter. They wanted only the woman. Sometimes, they even prodded the mother to drop her daughter in a home or an orphanage. For them, it seemed that the existence of the young girl looked like charity and it irked them. A lot.

Maggie came into a hard hitting realization after subsequent break-ups that her partners signed up only for her. They were not ready to start a family with her daughter. Bile bubbled at the back of her throat and her insides burned. Given such a situation, it was normal to either forsake her daughter or keep living with her. As the ever-loving mother, she began to raise her daughter by herself. The world did call her 'slut', but her daughter regarded her, a hero. A true hero who put her daughter before any other being. A true hero who never ever encouraged a thought to abandon her.

People gradually forgot about her as soon as she moved to another town. They were glad that she no longer tainted their normal lives. Like her parents, they considered her a burden.

Replaying her past every single day, she wished that the world understood her better– at least show an ounce of support when she needed the most. Together she and Natasha grew up fighting against all the odds. Maggie was delighted when Natasha was mentioned in her sister's will, a promise of roof above her head.

Maggie never expected a long taxi ride during the peak hours was capable of weaving those memories. Arriving at her place, the driver cleared her throat. Maggie paid the woman her fare and her happy mood made an extra tip. She went to her gate and walked to the porch and made a mental note to check her fridge for preparing dinner. Man, she was hungry. Ordering a pizza to her place and making dinner at home took the same time. Her eyes wandered to the windows. She didn't remember leaving any lights on.

As her panic mode set in, she grabbed the nearest flower pot and lurked in without making much noise. Clutching the pot tightly, her mind hovered around what type of move she should make first. Without removing her sandals, she crept in the hall that was well lit. Taking in a long breath, she scanned for any signs of intruder.

Maggie exclaimed in surprise, lined with mild anguish when one man was crouched in her black leather sofa, breathing hard and fear evident in his eyes. His entire body trembled at the gun pointed at his temple. His auburn shoulder length hair was dishevelled and sweat caked on his face. The man holding the gun had tattoos of the Bengal tigers in both his arms. Rodney and Kirk, Maggie mentally sighed.