Undying Love: Maria the Orphan

I am now sitting with my mother and father in the garden of our house, enjoying the peace of a beautiful evening. Everything around us brings comfort to the soul. My father is playing a beautiful tune on his guitar, which never leaves his side wherever he goes. My mother is sitting, her eyes fixed on a story in her hands. As for me, I was busy sipping my cup of coffee, my ears enchanted by the melodious and soothing music from my father.

Suddenly, I heard a series of rings that disturbed my peace and ruined my enjoyment. I woke up startled, cursing those rings, and began searching for the source of the sound, only to find it was my phone. Damn it, it woke me from my beautiful dream that I had long wished would come true—living in the embrace of my father and mother as a complete, loving family. Even the dream was incomplete; luck mirrored my frustration in those rings.

I wish I had stayed asleep, dreaming for the rest of my life like the people of the cave. I didn't want to open my eyes to this bitter reality. 

I heard my mother's voice calling me. She reminded me I was late for work.

I jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom, washed my face quickly, then opened my closet to pick a dress for the day. I chose a beautiful purple dress, put it on, brushed my long chestnut hair and let it cascade over my shoulder, spritzed some of my favorite perfume, and applied a light makeup that suited my sharp features. 

I am a twenty-something girl with skin as white as snow, which is why they call me "Senowheit". I have large, hazel eyes, beautifully broad eyebrows, and a mouth like a ring, with rosy cheeks that appear whenever I blush or when I stroll through the cold streets of London.

I heard my mother calling me again: 

"Maria, where are you? You're late for work. Breakfast is on the table." 

I answered, 

"Coming, Mom, I'll be there in a minute."

I rushed down the stairs as though someone were chasing me, and reached the dining room, where the smell of my coffee lured me to sit quickly and take a sip. 

I heard my mother scolding me, 

"Maria, you won't change. Take a piece of bread with cheese first." 

I replied, 

"Okay, Mom, I know, eat well so you don't get sick. I've memorized that line by heart."

I had my breakfast quickly, kissed my mother on the cheek, and made my way toward the door, but she asked me to wear a light jacket. Our beloved maid, Sophie, handed it to me. I put it on quickly, closed the door behind me, and headed off to work.

My workplace wasn't far from the house, so I preferred to walk there, enjoying the sight of the stores along the beautiful streets of London.

I'm a girl obsessed with clothes; I follow the latest fashion trends and the perfumes I adore. I watch all of this daily while walking, humming the tune my father often sings, which I always hear my mother joining in.

I arrived at my office, which is in a building with different companies. I work as an accountant for a travel agency, and my boss is strict and stern. He doesn't tolerate lateness, not even by a minute.

I greeted my colleagues, quickly entered my office, which overlooked a clothing store, and hung up my jacket on the coat rack. 

I took the file from yesterday out of my drawer to finish it. I didn't notice how much time had passed until the phone rang. It was my boss calling for the file. I told him to wait a few minutes, but he insisted I hurry.

I returned to my desk and decided to keep working, trying not to think about my hunger, even though my stomach began to grumble. I tried to ignore it. Time passed without me noticing until I finished my task. I lightly knocked on the door, and he allowed me to enter. I handed him the file, and he thanked me.

Then I returned to my office and found my friend Livia waiting for me. She had brought sandwiches for me, and we ate eagerly because we were both very hungry. We followed it with some fresh orange juice. We chatted about work and the remaining files, then changed the subject to the latest dress she bought and what she wished to buy next week. I asked her:

"Livia, what do you think about going out together this weekend to check out the latest in the market?" 

She replied: 

"Aren't you tired of buying clothes, Maria? Your closet is already full; it's probably complaining from the weight of it all." 

I laughed and responded: 

"Does the sea ever get full? My closet is just like it—there's always room for more London clothes."

We continued with our work after lunch until it was time to leave. Everyone quickly gathered their things and rushed toward the door as if we were in a prison. We exchanged quick goodbyes. As for me, I left with Livia, walking slowly between the streets of London, our eyes scanning the stores for new things, until I finally reached home. I said goodbye to my friend, and she continued her way.

I laid down on the couch in the living room and found my mother watching her favorite series. Her eyes were glued to the TV, and she didn't notice my arrival. She must have been caught up in the events of the show. 

I greeted her and said: 

"Mom, I'm home. How are you? Where's the tea? I want a cup." 

She replied: 

"Ask Sophie to make it for us. I've been waiting for you so we could drink it together."

We gathered around the table to have tea with biscuits and delicious toasted bread with butter, chatting about the events of the day and how each of us spent our time. 

I kissed my mother's cheek and Sophie's, then went up to my room, where I collapsed onto my bed, which holds all my sorrows and joys, memories, and dreams for the future. It is my bed that catches my tears and my pain.

I fell asleep after kissing the picture of my father, which I always keep beside me so I can sleep and wake up seeing it. I greeted him, turned off the light, and prepared myself for another day.