FOR EIGHTEEN YEARS of his life, there were only three things that he knew. That he was an orphan, that Mrs. Kelsy is his guardian and that Stella is his responsibilities. Nothing else.
He grew up with these three things and he forevermore thought that it would be. It was a midsummer dream that he can prolong as he can but he knew as his eyes met those pair of dark irises, that his dream has come to an end. The end that he dreaded.
Before he met Stella, he never questioned his parentage or how he came to be an orphan or how on that cold night he was abandoned on the street until Mrs. Kelsy stumbled upon him and took him home and that she let him stay in one of her rented apartment rooms. Yet when the dreamlike memories came to him one night ten years ago, he started to question himself, 'is this his purpose to live?'
Yet why... why did it have to come to an end? To lose his purpose in front of his very own eyes and to not able to do anything.
Sitting on his bed, his face was facing that girl house. From here he could see that girl's little sister darkened-room and if he lifts his face a little he could see that girl's loft room. From here he could faintly hear voices spoke in hushed tones. Then it became quite not because there wasn't anyone there anymore instead of the number of people talking in front of that house reduced.
He stood up and he saw from the shift of his curtains. Two figures walking as slowly as they could. They were talking animatedly. No, it was a grand word for someone as Stella to associate with and she was not showing any big gesture as her partner (he sure lived up to his rumor).
Effan Knight.
That name continued to echo inside of his head. Who? Where? When? These three questions repeated again and again because deep inside his heart, at the bottom floor of it, he knew that man. That moment he laid eyes on him a few days ago he knew that not only his midsummer dream will come to an end but his whole being as if had known that man for years that he could feel chilled ran down his spine.
He stepped forward enough that once again he and that man were staring at each other. It was an awkward moment for him. Scarily awkward because that colour of that man's eyes turned black as an abyss. Like a soulless man was standing there and he was inviting him to jump together in that abyss. A pulled so tantalizingly strong that he backed away that he almost lost his step and tripped.
"The hell was that?"
Why was it, someone like that man was being so close to Stella? Why was it that the end of his life purpose, the proud of his life has to be someone like Effan Knight? That kind of darkness was dangerous.
He collected himself back. Staggering to stand straight.
As he braced himself for the next possible staring contest, he was met with a different stare. That man was nowhere to be seen. Automatically the shiver he felt went away and his warm wide smile formed on his lips. His hand was waving enthusiastically to her way. It used to be a mystery for him to get this kind of reaction that he never would imagine could produce. That girl made it possible though. Not that he complains and he already has the answer for that.
His lovely princess. His first love.
*****
STELLA COULD NEVER stop staring at her mirror self. It was not because she is narcissistic nor she was having a fit of dysmorphic... it was more of like that she reminded herself of what she is; a nineteen years old with an average figure, average height, black hair, pale and alexithymic. None of these attributes hold any resemblance to her parents or that any distant relatives of her parents. Of course, these facts should hold true because she was a child that Sullivan and Silvia Ghotham found on their farm located behind their house seventeen years ago on that summer day. The couple at that time was a husband and wife that had wed for three years and them never for once had succeeded to have a child of their own, that they without any hesitation took her in, bath her and care her like their own until today. They never care about her short-comings or what her community called her 'a peculiar mind and physic' state.
When she was four years old she started to notice that their neighbors would gossip among others about her origin and her obvious genetic differences with her little sister which at that time was a year older after her birth. She, one who had always questions every possible new thing, asked her parents as to why their neighbors acted that way and their answers never deemed to fulfill her curious mind but she never asks further seeing them smiling faces. The kind of face that she would never want to see again because even though she lacks emotion, she understands pains. For that every time she saw those gossiping aunties or sneering uncles or even scared children, she would cover her ears and looked ahead.
She thought even then being deaf and ignorance was enough but again different kind criticism knocked on her life.
It was a boy. He was small compared to her yet his voice was louder than the whole class. His eyes were piercing. A look of mean kid usually have but people always call him cute and adorable even when he was talking nonsense nonstop.
"You're ugly," he said.
"Ugly?" That was the first time she heard it. Maybe those aunties at her neighborhood had called her that before but she never cared about it honestly. Today as well but he was the first to said it at her face.
"Ugly and repulsive. Me mom said that kid like you are a disgrace 'specially those eyes of yours. Could scare away even a phantom. To even think that Lily had a scary sister, do you want to make her an outcast too?"
Was she an outcast? And what was that with her eyes?
"Are you stupid?" he questioned her with a face that was very hard for Stella to understand. He wanted to laugh at her but at the same time, he looked like he wanted to slap her face. Was that possible?
"I don't understand what you're talking about," she straightly replied. Her face was blanked.
He chuckled. His brow knitted and his face turned beet red. "I guess you really are a living doll. A freak. I hope it's not contagious. Pity if Lily caught your disease. Your whole family gonna be shunned for real."
If he thought that those kinds of words can make her cry, then he is the stupid one but Stella has to admit it made her think. Really think. All this time she was the one who never really cared what people said about her and she never thought of what her parents or her little sister would feel. They have feelings and far more than she is.
And that one cold winter night, where rain had been pouring non-stop instead of snow, she heard them talking. Her parents were.
"Those nasty old hags. Wasting daylight on their verandas gossiping and pointing like their grandkids far superiors than others."
It was her mother's voice. Letting out her frustration to her husband who sat beside her while thinking that her children had slept tight in their beds. It was a pure coincidence that Stella had heard them when she came down wanting to have a glass of water for her parch throat.
"What more can we do Silv? Even if we can stop them from talking about her, we still can't cover her from those judging eyes, their inner malice. It will go away. It takes time," softly Mr. Ghotham consoled his wife.
This must be because of what happened at the winter festival at the bazaar that afternoon. It was like any normal day of the year for them to visit the festival to celebrate the oncoming winter solstice. Their apothecary had closed for the day and her family had a nice outing until her mother picked up uncensored word spoke by elderly women. Her finger was pointing at her family. To be precise, it was her—Stella. She never thought much of it and the bazaar was pretty crowded with family and they finally had a sunny day for a very long rainy winter. She never guessed that her mother would hear it and it made her cry.
"For how long? They have been at it since they set their eyes on her. When we say something they accuse us of lying, twisting our words and make it more hideous slander than ever. If I can just cut and boil those treacherous tongues at that very moment—"
A stream of hot water shoots out from the sink tap making Mr. Ghotham hurriedly over there and desperately tried to close or in this case stop his wife uncontrollable magic.
"Control your anger Silv. Do you want our house to explode too?"
Yet she continued to cry and wail. Her husband words went by uselessly like the hot water that he tried to stop it. Warm vapor rose blanketing the cold kitchen.
"I hate them. I really hate them all. Such words... to our dear-dear Stella. Even if she is our adopted daughter, the daughter that we found behind our house... don't you think that it was fate? She's a little girl that we had been hoping for. God give her to us and I never felt such happiness even just the mere actions of feeding her, bath her, cloth her, sleep her... everything about her makes me happy. I felt like I'm her real mother. She's my daughter. She doesn't deserve them, she doesn't deserve us..." she wailed. Her voice echoed silently throughout the house and Stella sat helplessly on the stair looking down on her two small feet.
Her front hair had started to grow out at that time and she let it grew over time never to get it cut until she deemed it was too much. She had gone to her primary school looking more invincible than before and avoided any unnecessary interactions.
She realized that nothing will change if she continued to be the center of people's attention. Her eyes, like what her mother had said, did not deserve people to criticize. Her heart and her being are far more important for her family than to them that always condemned her. The one who has always been accepting her for what she is worth was her parents, her little sister and him. The boy who came to her life two years after that, once again changing her outlook on life.