Tristeza sat in silence in front of her brother's grave. The dusk sky was growing darker, deepening the loneliness she had felt since her brother's departure. The soil was still wet, and the wildflowers she had picked started to wilt on the mound of earth. She didn't cry this time; she simply sat still, savoring every memory they had shared. The evening breeze danced through her long hair, almost whispering sweet promises that were now gone.
"What should I do now, Sis?" Tristeza murmured, her voice hoarse and barely audible. She clutched her worn-out clothes tightly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Isabella's image kept appearing in her mind, intensifying her pain.
Meanwhile, in the nearby village cemetery, a few neighbors had gathered. They knew Tristeza was now all alone, and although some felt sympathy for her, none were willing to take on the responsibility of caring for her. The conversation among them grew heated as several began voicing their opinions.
"That girl can't be left alone like this," said an elderly woman firmly, glancing at Tris. "She needs a place to live, food, and someone to look after her."
"Yes, but who will take care of her? I already have five children, and that's just too much!" replied a mother standing beside her. Weariness was evident on her face.
"We can't allow her to stay alone in that house," said a man who seemed indifferent, shaking his head.
"Poor thing, she's still so young."
"I feel sorry for her too, but I can't take her in," another woman chimed in. "Look at our situation. The economy is tough. We're all struggling to survive. How can we take on another child when we have our own responsibilities?"
Hearing this, another man who had been silent joined in, "Maybe we can collect money for her, at least for food."
"Just money isn't enough," said the first woman again, her voice rising. "She needs more than just money. She needs love, care. We can't just give her money and think everything will be all right."
"But who will take care of her?" the woman who previously complained about her five children spoke up again. "We're all busy, and no one has the time or energy to take on more burden."
The discussion continued, but none of them provided any concrete solutions. They argued without reaching any conclusions. A few eventually shook their heads and began to leave the crowd, unwilling to get more involved.
Tristeza, although unable to hear their conversation, felt how isolated she was now. She huddled in on herself, feeling the evening chill starting to seep in. In her heart, she knew no one would come to help. Everyone had their own problems, and she was just a burden in their lives.
---
That night, Tristeza returned home. Her footsteps felt heavy, and every corner of the house reminded her of her brother's presence. Everything there—from the rickety wooden chair to the leftover food on the table—held memories of their simple life.
Once inside, Tristeza collapsed onto the thin, worn mattress. She hugged the pillow that had once belonged to her brother tightly, inhaling the faint scent that still lingered on the fabric.
"Sis..." she whispered, her voice trembling.
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart. The sadness she had bottled up all day finally erupted in sobs. She cried for so long that her eyes became puffy, finally drifting off to sleep in exhaustion.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the small gaps in the wooden walls of the house. Tristeza slowly woke up, her head heavy and her eyes swollen. For a moment, in her half-asleep confusion, she thought Isabella was still there.
"Sis... Isabella?" she called softly, her voice barely audible. She turned to her side, hoping her sister would answer.
But all she found was silence. No footsteps, no gentle smile from Isabella. The reality hit Tristeza hard again, making her heart feel even more shattered.
"Sis..." she cried out again, feeling the tears flowing once more. Her body trembled as if it could not bear the pain that kept hitting her.
But after a while, her growling stomach forced her to get out of bed. With sluggish steps, she made her way to the kitchen. On the small wooden table, she saw the hard whole grain bread they had bought together the day before.
"This... is the last bread we bought together," she said weakly. Her hands reached for the bread and took a bite slowly. Each morsel felt heavy, not just because the bread had gone stale, but because of the bitter memories of their togetherness that would never return.
---
As she was cleaning the kitchen table, Tristeza found a small pouch in the shopping bag—perhaps it was the money Isabella had been carrying. Inside, there were 72 copper coins—money used for buying daily necessities. Now, it was the only treasure Tristeza had.
She stared at the coins, trying to calculate in her mind. "How long will this last me?" she murmured softly. If she saved, maybe it could last a few days. But after that, she had no idea what to do.
The thought of looking for work began to cross her mind. But where? And who would hire a young girl like her?
The next day, Tristeza decided to try to find a job at her brother's former workplace—a food stall in town. The owner knew Isabella well, and Tristeza hoped he would be willing to give her a job.
"Sorry, kid," the owner said regretfully. "I know Isabella used to help us here, but things are tough for me right now. I can't. You know, our food stall isn't doing well."
Tristeza looked down, stifling her disappointment. "I understand, sir... Thank you for hearing me out."
The food stall owner offered a small smile, but couldn't offer any help. "I hope you can find a job elsewhere."
With heavy steps, Tristeza left the place. That first rejection made her feel smaller and more helpless. But she knew giving up was not an option. Her sister had never taught her to surrender to her circumstances.
In the following days, Tristeza continued searching for work at various places. She approached bakeries, vegetable sellers, even small stalls in the market. But the answer was always the same.
"Sorry, we don't need any extra workers."
"Sorry, kid."
Every rejection weighed heavily on Tristeza's heart, but she tried to hold it together. Each time she returned home empty-handed, she told herself to try again the next day.
One morning, while she was walking around the market, Tristeza watched the sellers busily offering their goods. Some were selling fruits, others fish, and some were selling handmade crafts. Their voices were loud, trying to attract customers.
Tristeza observed how they sold their items, and an idea popped into her head. "Maybe... I can do the same."
The next day, Tristeza went to the small forest on the edge of the town. She gathered dry twigs and fallen firewood. With a small, worn basket, she returned to the market and tried to sell the firewood.
"Firewood! Firewood! Only a few copper coins!" she shouted, mimicking the way other vendors advertised their goods.
However, Tristeza's voice still sounded uncertain. Passersby merely glanced at her before continuing on without stopping.
That day, Tristeza only managed to sell a few bundles of firewood. Despite her disappointment, she didn't give up. Tomorrow, she would try again.
In the following days, Tristeza also began selling wildflowers she picked from the roadside. Although the earnings were still meager, she felt at least she could hold on a bit longer.
However, the money she collected was still not enough to pay her lodging rent.
That night, the innkeeper knocked on her door.
"Tristeza, are you in there?" the innkeeper called gently. "Yes, just a moment." Tris hurried from the kitchen to open the door. "Good evening, Sir!"
"Tris, I've given you more time, but you still haven't been able to pay your rent?"
Tristeza fell silent for a moment, looking down. "I know, Sir. I... I will leave tomorrow morning."
The innkeeper nodded slowly and then left her. Tristeza sat on the edge of her bed, hugging her knees tightly.
"Sis..." she whispered softly.
That morning, Tristeza sat lost in thought on her aging mattress. Sunlight streamed through the small window, illuminating her belongings, which were now scattered chaotically. She didn't have much to bring; most were already old and worn. Yet, each item held a story, memories from the past that made it hard to let go. She picked up an old blanket, some folded clothes, and a comb that Isabella had once used.
With still puffy eyes from her long cry, Tristeza looked at each item one by one. "Is this all? Can I survive?" she asked herself. Her heart whispered that there was no other choice. The time for her eviction had come, and the innkeeper would be arriving soon.
A knock on the door startled her. Tristeza took a deep breath, trying to calm herself before opening the door.
"Tristeza?" The innkeeper stood at the door, looking firm yet gentle. "It's time. You have to leave now."
"Just a moment... I..." Tristeza lowered her head, clutching a few copper coins in her hand. "I have this... just a little, but... maybe it can buy me a few more days?"
The innkeeper looked at the copper coins for a moment, then shook his head slowly.
"But... I don't know where to go," Tristeza's voice began to tremble, trying to hold it together but failing.
The innkeeper remained silent, not saying a word.
Tears began to roll down Tristeza's cheeks. She knew pleading any longer was useless. The innkeeper was not cruel; he was just facing his own difficulties. With heavy steps, she turned to gather her belongings, stuffing them into her old bag.
Once finished, Tristeza stepped out of the inn one last time. The morning air felt cold, almost reflecting her feelings. She glanced back at the inn, but quickly looked away when she saw the innkeeper standing in the doorway, watching her leave without saying anything further.
Tristeza began to walk along the quiet outskirts of town. A few neighbors peeked through their windows, but when their eyes met Tristeza's, they quickly looked away, as if they didn't want to get involved. Tristeza choked back a sob, even though her heart ached more seeing their indifference.
"What's wrong with me?" she whispered to herself, but no one heard, and no one cared.
The day wore on as Tristeza reached the edge of town. She remembered this spot—the ruins of a house where children from the village, including herself, often played. It looked much more frightening now, abandoned and forgotten. But for Tristeza, this might be the only place she could stay now.
She began to clear a little space among the rubble, laying out her worn blanket on the dusty floor. "This is better than the streets," she murmured, trying to comfort herself. Tristeza carefully organized her belongings, even though she knew most of it was no longer useful. Each day, she would return to the market, trying to sell firewood or flowers she picked at the city's edge, though the earnings were minimal.
One day, as she was wandering around the market, she spotted a small child wearing a necklace around their neck. The child appeared frightened, with several cuts on their hands and feet. A grown man stood behind them, harshly whipping the child's back.
"Come on, hurry up! You need to work harder if you want to eat!" the man shouted roughly.
Tristeza swallowed hard, her heart aching at the sight. She had felt that way before—abandoned, with no one caring. But at least even though her life was full of struggles now, she wasn't treated quite like that.
Slowly, Tristeza approached the child. "Hey... are you okay?" she asked gently, her voice slightly trembling.
The child merely looked down, not daring to meet Tristeza's eyes. The adult with them glared at Tristeza, as if warning her not to get involved.
Tristeza took a step back, feeling powerless. She couldn't help the child, just as she couldn't help herself.
"Better not get involved, Tris," she murmured to herself, trying to turn her thoughts away from the guilt that lingered in her heart.
A month passed, and Tristeza's situation worsened. Her body began to look thinner, her hair tangled from lack of bathing, and her clothes grew increasingly tattered. She slept on straw taken from the fields outside the town, trying to endure the cold nights. The belongings of Isabella and her father had all been sold off, each item giving way to buy bread that was getting more expensive by the day.
That morning, Tristeza sat lost in thought in front of the ruins, gazing at the streets that grew busier with people passing by. Her stomach growled, but she only had a few copper coins left. Not enough to buy food.
In the market, she tried to sell firewood as usual. "Firewood! Only a few copper coins!" she shouted, despite her voice growing hoarse.
No one approached her. People passed by, too embroiled in their own lives. Tristeza sighed, her stomach churning more.
Suddenly, an elderly woman approached her. "Child, are you alright? You look very tired," she asked with a face full of concern.
Tristeza was taken aback, surprised that someone cared. "I... I'm okay. Just a little hungry," she replied softly.
The woman smiled a little and pulled out a piece of bread from her bag. "Take it. You need more than just firewood to survive."
Tristeza gazed at the bread with shining eyes and accepted it with trembling hands. "Thank you... thank you so much," she said, tears almost falling.
"No need to thank me, dear. Helping each other is what we should do," said the woman before turning and walking away.
Tristeza stared at the bread for a moment before eating it slowly. Each bite felt like a blessing, even though her heart still brimmed with worry. She knew kindness like this wouldn't always come. What would she do tomorrow? The day after?
---
Time passed, and Tristeza's life still didn't change much. Nevertheless, she kept trying to find ways to survive. Sometimes she managed to sell a few flowers; other times, nothing. But every night, she always returned to the ruins she called home.
One night, as she huddled on the straw, her gaze drifted to the night sky full of stars. She hugged her old blanket tightly, trying to warm herself against the chill of the evening wind.
"Sis, I miss you so much," she whispered softly. "I hope... I hope you are here."
No one answered, only the sound of the wind howling through the ruins. Tristeza closed her eyes, wishing that tomorrow would be a little better than today.