CHAPTER 2
1579 Words
Days pass by.
Papa and I lived our life the most happily.
It has been two years already.
First, for a few months after he left, I lived with fear knowing he would come for me, but he did not.
It has been two years now.
5th March, it is my eighteenth birthday.
As I grew older, I became the prettiest in the town. Most of the young girls of my age were envious of me.
Every time I walk past them, they talk about my body and my flawless skin.
They wandered around the road and stared at me angrily and unsatisfactorily.
"Why is she white?"
"She looks white as a pale corpse."
“Poor girl, her mother is not with her anymore. I feel sorry for her. At least our moms are always here with us. Ahahahaha..."
I am used to those girls who'd tease and bully mama every time I walk past them.
I became a laughing object because of the envious behaviors of the girls on me.
They must have something to observe about me.
My skin was white as snow and soft like a goat's wool...
I wore a white short dress with a thin layer of lace on it.
Put my strawberry-flavored perfume on and walked out of my room like a queen of the day.
The neck of my dress was round and lowered, exposing my chest.
I am not worried. My boobs are small and my cleavage, I don't have one.
I have seen grown-up ladies with big breasts and no clothes inners, walking with a strapless blouse and nobody cares about it.
As long as Layla has her eyes locked with her cute, lovely dress, it is good enough.
Any low-neck blouse or dress would fit perfectly for me.
I remembered papa asked me what I would want for my birthday as a gift.
I would love to have a party with the orphans and give away free pieces of bread and sandwiches to the poor people in the village with us.
Papa is indeed proud of what I have requested for my birthday as a gift.
"That's a beautiful young lady! How I wanted to see you get in a hand of marriage with a wonderful man."
"We all hope so, dearest Layla..."
That's Uncle Thomas and Aunt Clara, Uncle Thomas's wife. Uncle Thomas is papa's best friend.
He was there for papa and Aunt Clara helped me since mama passed away until I was able to handle everything on my own.
They live on the other side of the village, a few miles away from my home.
Both of them are my favorite people in life. I could consider them my second mom and dad.
"Oh, Uncle Thomas! Aunt Clara! It's been a long time since I hadn't seen both of you. I missed you, guys."
I ran to them and gave them a big hug.
Papa opened his bakery and gave away free loaves of tuna and chicken bread and some sandwiches.
Everyone in the town gathered to celebrate my little tiny party.
Papa baked his special blueberry chocolate moist cake, as I had already confronted him about it from him a few weeks before.
A small town with small circles of people.
The sound of the little kids and the people talking and laughing.
The streets covered with yellow and white lights mingled together.
Light music and Uncle Thomas with his guitar, singing along. People gathered around and started to sing the birthday song.
Happy birthday to you...
Happy birthday to you...
Happy birthday to Sweet Layla...
Happy birthday to you...
"Go ahead, make a wish and blow off the candle, my love!" Cried, Aunt Clara.
I made a wish, all of my dreams come true.
Papa and I will have a great blessing and a good place to enlarge his bakery.
The orphans will finally have a family and a place to call home.
I wish the poor people would finally have their own place to stay and sufficient food to eat. I wish...
Then, I blew the candles.
It was joyful, and the place was filled with great pleasure. Until…
“Clear the streets! Let the car go through."
I heard the screaming of a young man from far, pushing and stopping all the people to walk across the roadways.
"It’s the count!”
“It’s the count!”
What? It is the count. Not on my birthday! NO!
“Oh, Sam!" It seems like the count has fallen in love with your bread and ham!”
"Or you invited the count for your daughter's birthday?"
Teased and laughed the gossip ladies and papa's friends, and the other shop holders around us.
It was the count again.
“Sam, it’s the count... But why is he here?" Gasped, Uncle Thomas.
Papa was excited once again. Papa has really no idea about what is going to happen.
Papa thought the count would come here for his bread, but NO!
My hands were shaking and all the mood of celebrating my birthday is doomed.
Papa ran to the kitchen to grab more bread and ham to be packed as he did before for the count.
As before, the count’s assistant walked to the doorstep of the bakery.
But this time…
“Oh, it has been two years, Sir! Would the count like to have the same bread and ham, sir?”
“Ummm... No.”
“N…No...?”
Papa is overwrought, and he feels fear.
Is it because the bread or the ham was not good enough?
Papa was striking against with a light blow on his cloth he held in his hands, fearing that it could be because of the cloth he used to bring the bread before this…
Fear causes too many thoughts in the mind, and he begins to tremble and can't talk.
Little did we both know, papa looked at me and his fearful eyes looked as if it was talking to me.
What... what did you do, Layla...?
Everyone was silent and waited for Mr. Patrick to approach papa.
In fact, the whole place was drowned with quietness.
They were waiting and watching for the next thing to happen.
Mr. Patrick came closer to papa.
“The count... He came here to ask for the hand of your beautiful daughter.”
Looking at me, and he smiled. Papa was surprised by the request.
Papa was speechless. Papa knew I would say no to it.
Papa glanced at me and sadly said…
“But she is all I have… ”
“I understand, Mr. Sam. But our son has his own ways to get things he likes. He'd always go for the best."
"But she is not a thing for your count to have her as he wishes. She is a girl, and she has a future."
Aunt Clara was annoyed with his pleading, and she stood up for me.
I have known ever since I was a little girl. She always has.
The people were looking at us, at me.
The moment the place was driven away with so much silence, it becomes clearer to be heard whatever Mr. Patrick is saying.
"Yes, indeed. Listen to me first, my lady... He fell in love for the first time he saw her, two years ago. He has not ever stopped thinking about her since then.” Rendered, Mr. Patrick.
"...but she was too young to behold the family's legacy, to be married and be his wife back then.
So, he waited for this day to arrive."
Mr. Patrick walked closer to me and held my both hands.
"He never stopped loving you, sweet Layla."
It was the day when he bought the bread from us. He was watching me until he left our place.
He was hounding and following me all this while, but I was too blind to see or too deaf to hear his voice around me.
He has always been with me. Just... I didn't know.
"I don't know what to say... I have never met the count. I don't even know what he looks like or what his family does for a living.”
I gasped at papa. I was almost going to cry.
Do I have a choice?
It is the count who has fallen in love with me, not an ordinary man.
"If I say no?"
"I wouldn't say that if I were you, Layla."
Nodded papa...
"Papa..." I ran towards him and hugged papa.
"Why papa?! Did I do anything wrong or hurt your feelings? Why do you want me to go?"
I could not hold my tears anymore.
I cried with a sad, soft voice.
"No, sweetie. Listen. I don't know how much longer I can keep you like this. You need a good life and a good future for yourself. This bakery can't help us for long."
Papa was right.
We can't survive like this forever.
Maybe it was my birthday wish that came true.
Papa knew that this was not the right thing to do, but there is no future for us with this bakery and the little money we get from it.
I knew what he was thinking.
I looked at papa, and I smiled at him.
I wiped his tears.
“Whatever you say, papa. I will be happy if this makes you happy.”
- Writer
