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What all started with rock, paper, scissors
I lost rock, paper, scissors so I was the unfortunate one who had to beg for unwanted items for the school bazaar from the only house in the village which everyone and his neighbour avoided.
The house itself was nothing extraordinary. The windows were dusty enough to draw on, and the front garden was much too overgrown, but the reason for avoidance was much more likely to be the old woman who rarely came out of it. If looks could kill, hers could disintegrate.
I knocked twice and my knuckles turned grey.
I was hoping the door would stay closed, but it opened to reveal a woman with matted snow coloured hair and lips pursed into a paper thin line with disapproval for the disturbance.
It took me a good two minutes to find my voice, and ask about the school bazaar. She looked down at me for a while, expecting me to leave, but her eyes softened when I remained standing there expecting an answer.
She asked me to come in, so she may rummage through her belongings. I sat on a plush maroon arm chair facing a fire place which seemed to not have seen fire in centuries. The place was plastered with family photos of a young couple and a handsome young boy all smiling and laughing.
After she found a few items for the bazaar, she sank on a sofa next to me as she saw me looking with curiosity at her pictures.
"You are looking at my husband there," she said. "We were so young back then. The one in this picture is my son, and that lady is me." Her voice quivered slightly.
She took out an album filled to the brim with pictures so much so that they were falling out, and her face lit up with joy as she explained each picture. She mentioned that she lost her family in the war, as they had volunteered to fight for the country.
No wonder she was constantly
dejected. Loneliness was her companion and each day of solitude was a reminder of the love she lost. I felt so guilty for painting her as a monster in my head that I felt that I had to clean my conscience somehow.
I asked her to have dinner with my family that night. After mulling it over for a while, with some encouragement from me, she hesitantly accepted. It was going to be her first time in decades leaving her comfort zone. I lit up the fire place and helped her choose a lovely dress.
My family welcomed her with open arms and I must say she became like a grandma to me. The change we saw in her was incredible.
I must stop reminiscing now as the funeral is about to start. She will finally be reunited with her family. May she rest in peace and companionship so she may never taste solitude again.
© BellaSparkles
The house itself was nothing extraordinary. The windows were dusty enough to draw on, and the front garden was much too overgrown, but the reason for avoidance was much more likely to be the old woman who rarely came out of it. If looks could kill, hers could disintegrate.
I knocked twice and my knuckles turned grey.
I was hoping the door would stay closed, but it opened to reveal a woman with matted snow coloured hair and lips pursed into a paper thin line with disapproval for the disturbance.
It took me a good two minutes to find my voice, and ask about the school bazaar. She looked down at me for a while, expecting me to leave, but her eyes softened when I remained standing there expecting an answer.
She asked me to come in, so she may rummage through her belongings. I sat on a plush maroon arm chair facing a fire place which seemed to not have seen fire in centuries. The place was plastered with family photos of a young couple and a handsome young boy all smiling and laughing.
After she found a few items for the bazaar, she sank on a sofa next to me as she saw me looking with curiosity at her pictures.
"You are looking at my husband there," she said. "We were so young back then. The one in this picture is my son, and that lady is me." Her voice quivered slightly.
She took out an album filled to the brim with pictures so much so that they were falling out, and her face lit up with joy as she explained each picture. She mentioned that she lost her family in the war, as they had volunteered to fight for the country.
No wonder she was constantly
dejected. Loneliness was her companion and each day of solitude was a reminder of the love she lost. I felt so guilty for painting her as a monster in my head that I felt that I had to clean my conscience somehow.
I asked her to have dinner with my family that night. After mulling it over for a while, with some encouragement from me, she hesitantly accepted. It was going to be her first time in decades leaving her comfort zone. I lit up the fire place and helped her choose a lovely dress.
My family welcomed her with open arms and I must say she became like a grandma to me. The change we saw in her was incredible.
I must stop reminiscing now as the funeral is about to start. She will finally be reunited with her family. May she rest in peace and companionship so she may never taste solitude again.
© BellaSparkles
