My mother's pay was sent to me through the woman who had called the other day, and the other three places she was working too. I received pay as well. I sent it to the funeral home. As an advance, the church made preparations for the cemetery.
And they also sent me money to help pay for the funeral. I knew it was Father Timothy who was trying to help me. I guess he wanted me to be grateful for something and know I was not alone.
All I have sent to the funeral home, since the burial would be in the morning. I was making plans to work in the hotel. I will go there in the afternoon.
It would be bad not to use this opportunity and earn more to cover the bills. If I got lucky and there was enough to pay the rent, I bet the landlord would take pity and allow me to stay here longer, i would be lost if he put me out now.
I wash and iron the clothes I will be wearing. on that day. My parents loved seeing me in these, a blue packet shirt my dad had gotten for me, and a pair of trendy jeans, which now looked a bit undersized, but I wanted to wear them because they made nice comments about them.
I ate before going to the hotel, I made up reasons to go and see the manager.
And each time I became more dutiful. I took a peek at the flowery pattern design, and each time I looked I found something new.
The pattern had a rose in the middle, a black rose shaped flower, which I had only noticed today because of how small it was.
I could not wait for the day, I had already gotten a copy of the manager's key and it was tough as nails. It was one of those visits to his office. he wasn't on the seat. i took the key and tested it on the lock, and fortunately for me, my first trial was a success.
I took a picture of the key and dropped the original on the table.
Some seconds after returning the key. The manager came in and saw me standing there. What are you doing here?
I was helping out in the kitchen when chef Jimmy told me to bring this to you, I said.
He looked at the boxed food and said "okay, why are you still here?" he asked searching me with his eyes.
"He said I should hand it to you personally."
"Okay, you may go," he said, settling into his chair.
I went out of his office and sighed, as I walked away briskly.
I was already done with my cleaning, the day shift was practically easier for me than the night shift.
I even get tips from helping guests navigate the hotel, something they do even if you don't want it.
I rushed back to the kitchen, and helped them with their errands waiting for my shift to end, and the rest of the day, my thoughts had been clouded with the thoughts of my parents funeral, i wasn't really disturbed by the fees, like I should have been, after paying half of the money, I knew I would complete the rest after, i was concerned about watching them being leveled into the earth.
It was like my dream would end, and I would wake up to the reality of them coming back to me alive. this realization grew as time passed, especially when I returned home and I was lying on my bed.
I went into the room and looked for my parents photo album. i wanted to see if there was any relative who I could at least turn to, my dad had told me about meeting my mom at the orphanage where they had grown up together, he told me about their struggles as no one would adopt them since they were over twelve in the home and he left one night and six years later he had come back to take her out of there.
I checked the album to see if they had friends, he sure would have gotten one or two when he left the orphanage, but I only saw pictures of the two of them in every page.
There was nothing. There was no one.
I went back to the pictures and took them out. I checked the back to read the name of the orphanage , most times names of places are written behind pictures.
I was excited to read the name 'Goodwill orphanage home,' i checked the address on my cell phone, and saved it.
I was busy checking it on my find places app when i fell asleep.
It was the morning of the funeral.
I woke up and rushed to get dressed. I was already late for the mass, I missed going to escort my parents from the funeral home.
I rode to the church, and as the prayers were being said, I snuck to the front and sat. Father Timothy had seen me and he smiled at me.
He knew about my jobs, and he knew I had overslept.
After the mass, we escorted my parents to the cemetery. Father Timothy said prayers, and then it started.
My heart began to pound, emptiness pouring into my soul as I watched the undertakers put my parents down into the earth.
My fear had come to pass, my tears flowed freely, I was feeling dizzy, my legs were shaking, Father Timothy was sprinkling holy water. As he prayed, all I heard before I collapsed was "show compassion to your people in their sorrow...lift us from the darkness of this grief to the peace and light of your presence."
I woke up, and I was in the hospital. Father Timothy was by my side with a few concerned people. I stood up and Father Timothy cautioned me to lay back down, but I told him I was fine. The IV drip connected to my hand was almost done.
"The doctor said you had suffered from stress. you need to rest." father Timothy gently spoke.
"Sorry father, I have to go to work, I am already late," I replied to him, removing the try to remove IV DRIP connected to my hand.