After Director Mikaela's departure, a new director had been assigned at Domus Orphanage.
Director Yulia, the fourth director to lead the orphanage, possessed grand ambitions for its future. She proclaimed herself to be one of the most exceptional directors London had ever witnessed. Director Yulia was a strong and determined leader, never one to shy away from a challenge. Despite her ambition, she still maintained a courteous and considerate demeanor.
Initially, Director Yulia cared for the children just as Director Mikaela had done. However, it wasn't long before her true colors began to emerge.
One night, as Caleb diligently folded clothes, Winter, a young orphan, accidentally spilled coffee on the garments. Apologizing profusely in a shaky voice, Winter, who suffered from a stutter, pleaded for forgiveness. Yet, Director Yulia stormed in, seething with anger. She brought out a whip and threatened to punish Winter for creating a mess. Shouting at the top of her lungs, the director berated the child, calling him a burden and accusing him of being incapable of doing anything right.
Thankfully, Caleb intervened, stepping in to protect Winter from harm. He implored the director, "Director, please calm down. I don't believe Mark meant any harm. He tripped on the carpet; he's just a child. Please, don't hurt him."
Enraged, Director Yulia retorted, "Really? I suppose you're no different, a disrespectful brat. You'll soon realize that I'm nothing like Mikaela. You'll all learn the hard way, especially you, ungrateful animal. I'll teach you respect."
The director proceeded to strangle Caleb, forcing him to clean up Winter's mess. Winter, traumatized and in tears, stood frozen in fear. Reluctantly, Caleb complied, hoping to prevent the situation from escalating any further.
Once the director left, Caleb approached Winter and reassured him, saying, "Don't worry. I'll always be here to protect all of you. From the beginning, I had a feeling the new director would behave this way. I'll stand by your side. However, if worse comes to worst and I have to leave, take care of each other. If that time comes, I'm confident we'll meet again."
Nicollette watched the distressing events unfold from a distance. She understood that it would be her responsibility to support Caleb and take care of her brothers and sisters. Overwhelmed with the burden, she retreated to her room, consumed by sorrow.
The next morning, at 5:00 a.m., Nicollette found sanctuary near the water lilies and began to pray fervently. "Oh, Father above, I know you're watching over us. Despite our different backgrounds and origins, we all come from you. I whisper your mercy for my brother Caleb and the other children, your devoted children, who are ready to protect us. Guide us on the path you deem fit."
Nicollette felt as if someone were observing her from the bushes. Nervously, she approached the source of her suspicion, only to find that it was empty. Her worries gradually subsided, attributing the rustling to a mere squirrel or other woodland creature.
Later that day, Nicollette ventured into the village to procure supplies for the family's Christmas dinner. She purchased potatoes, carrots, chicken, and string beans. She knew that Caleb's favorite dish, Creamy Garlic Chicken, would bring joy to their holiday celebration. As she wandered the village market, time seemed to fly by.
Night had already fallen when Nicollette returned to the orphanage. The sight that greeted her upon opening the door was devastating. Caleb lay on the floor, covered in scars, surrounded by the other children, beaten and incapacitated. Director Yulia held a whip in one hand and a baton in the other.
Nicollette's anger boiled over, and she could no longer contain it. Enraged, she lunged at the director, pelting her with the vegetables she had bought. Nicollette yanked at the director's hair, her fury unleashed.
Freed from Nicollette's grasp, Director Yulia raged out, "Why, you ungrateful wretch! I'll kill you!"
Still ablaze with rage, Nicollette retorted, "Remember this always—you have no right to treat us like this. Your abuse sickens me."
Director Yulia charged at Nicollette with her whip, as Nicollette braced herself for the worst. She braced herself for the onslaught.
Fortunately, Caleb intervened, restraining the director. Panting heavily, he pleaded, "Stop it. I will leave. Isn't that what you want? But in exchange—I'll take care of these children. You have not a clue on what they've been through."
Nicollette tried to interject, saying, "Caleb, no! It's our turn—"
Cutting her off, Caleb continued, "It's for their own good. Take care of the children, please. I beg you, Ms. Yulia, raise them well. I promise to leave, and we'll never cross paths again."
Director Yulia redirected her attention to Caleb, stating, "If that is your wish, so be it. I'll grant your request. Now leave before I burn this place to the ground." With that, the director stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Caleb retreated to his room to gather his belongings. The other children watched in silence as he packed his things. Tearfully, Caleb prepared to leave the building. As he exited the door, he took one last look through the window. There, he saw Nicollette weeping. Caleb gently knocked on the windowpane, rousing Nicollette from her tearful sorrow. Their hands met on opposite sides of the glass as they leaned on the window together, tears streaming down their faces, hoping for a future reunion.
Unbeknownst to all, as the chaotic events unfolded, snow began to fall, blanketing the world in a cold, wintry embrace. It was Christmas Eve, a time for celebration. Yet, not everyone would find joy in the festivities.
With our hands pressed against the opposite sides of the window, our connection remained unbreakable. We silently promised to meet again in the future, dear friend. Tears streamed down our faces as we leaned on the window, hoping for a swift reunion.
Amidst the ever growing agony of events that had unfolded, snowflakes began to descend, casting a magical veil over the surroundings. Yes, the holiday season had arrived—it was Christmas Eve.
"I didn't have enough time to gather all my belongings, but I suppose this will have to do... Damn it! Out of all the moments I had envisioned, I chose the most festive time of the year. Regardless, I must press on and find a place to rest for the night."
As I walked through the night, observing families joyfully gathered around their Christmas dinners, an indescribable pain submersed through my being. Beyond the hunger that gnawed at my stomach, the most profound anguish stemmed from an overwhelming sense of envy towards those fortunate enough to have loving and complete families.
"Why?... Why? I hope the children are faring well. Nicollette... No, I must persevere for their sake. I will find a way to reunite us... Director Mikaela, wherever you are, I implore your guidance and support..."
I stumbled upon a street corner that seemed to offer the best shelter for the night. Clutching only my clothes, I resorted to wearing every layer to ward off the biting cold. Damn! The snow pierced through me, freezing me to the core. "Why? Why?" I murmured repeatedly to myself, attempting to hold onto any flicker of optimism. I reminded myself that every hardship endured was for the sake of my family. But why did it have to be so arduous?
Suddenly, I discovered a matchbox in my backpack. Regrettably, only three matchsticks remained. Still, a surge of delight washed over me as I glimpsed the matchstick's head. I carefully struck it against the rough surface of the matchbox, and a flame ignited. Relief washed over me as the bright, dancing flames provided both warmth and light. It infused me with renewed vigor, igniting a fierce determination to press forward.
However, despite my best efforts to preserve the ember, it eventually vanished, leaving me once again cold, frigid, desolate, and utterly alone.
Undeterred, I retrieved another match, desperately hoping for a more favorable outcome. "No! No! No!" I exclaimed in anguish as I discovered the match was broken. "Damn it! Why must I be so wasteful now?!... Maybe Director Yulia was right... Maybe I truly am useless," I cried out in frustration.
In that moment, I had no other option but to ignite my final match. With utmost care, I struck the match head against the rough surface of the matchbox. The match ignited, gleaming with an extraordinary brilliance.
At that precise instant, an inexplicable phenomenon unfolded before my eyes. Visions of a fantastical world, brimming with the presence of my beloved family, materialized in my mind. Oh, how I yearned for those visions to become a tangible reality, to be reunited with them in that magical realm.
Yet, as the match's ember gradually faded away, so did my presence in this plane of existence.
The night grew colder, the wind howled more fiercely, and snowflakes danced through the air. The clock struck midnight, heralding Christmas Day, a time of joyous celebration for many. But not for everyone...