MARIBLE'S PROMISE

CHAPTER ONE: THE PROMISES The bell rang, a sharp, metallic sound that usually meant freedom. Laughter, chatter, and the shuffle of hurried feet that usually filled the hallway. But today, to Maribel, it might as well have taken a sad toll, because she kept feeling uneasy and sad for no reason, even when she tried so hard to wear a smiling face. She moved in slow motion, her hands trembling slightly as she packed her books into her backpack. Her heart felt like it was wrapped in iron-heavy, unyielding, sinking deeper with every passing minute. Something was wrong. Not the usual kind of wrong, not a bad grade or a forgotten homework assignment. No, this feeling clawed inside of her, quiet and cold, like a premonition. She hadn’t been able to focus all day. Ms. Grennan’s voice in the first period sounded like it was coming from underwater. She hadn’t laughed at Kira’s ridiculous pigeon impressions during lunch and even her favorite peanut butter and banana sandwich had tasted so plain. Her stomach twisted again as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. “Hey, Maribel! Wait up!” Kira’s voice rang out from behind. Maribel paused just outside the school gates, letting her best friend catch up. Kira jogged over, slightly out of breath but beaming with excitement. Her ponytail bounced with each step, and her pink sneakers squeaked on the pavement. She fell into step beside Maribel, nudging her gently with her elbow. “Okay, spill. You’ve been acting so weird all day and i am worried, what’s going on? Is it… your mom?” Maribel hesitated. The question hung in the air like smoke. “I don’t know,” she said at last, her voice low, strained. She didn’t look great this morning. Said she was tired, but… I don’t know, Kira. "Something feels… wrong.” Kira’s smile faded. Her eyes, usually bright and full of mischief, softened with concern. Without saying a word, she slipped her arm through Maribel’s and gave it a squeeze. “My mom says rest fixes everything,” she said gently. “Maybe yours just needs a little more rest and I promise everything is going to be alright.” Maribel tried to nod, tried to believe it, but the knot in her chest only tightened. The girls walked in silence, their footsteps falling in rhythm on the sidewalk. The spring air was cool and fragrant with the scent of cherry blossoms, but it did nothing to lift the weight pressing down on Maribel’s chest. When they finally got to the corner where the routes to their houses split, Kira stopped. She turned and took both of Maribel’s hands in hers. “Text me, okay? No matter what.” “I will,” Maribel whispered. “And… tell your mom I said hi. And that I’m bringing her those lemon muffins she likes next time.” Maribel managed to smile a bit before responding. “She’d like that.” They hugged briefly, tight and silent, with unspoken worry wrapped in their embrace and then Kira turned away, waving over her shoulder. As Maribel continued walking, her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. Each step forward felt like walking into a storm. When her house finally came into view, a small, familiar white building with flowers on the streets of Brownville, a chill ran down her spine. The living room light glowed faintly through the window, but the house felt... still. Too still. Not peaceful, but hollow. She stepped up onto the porch and reached for the doorknob with a trembling hand. The door swung open slowly with a single swing, groaning on its hinges. “Mom?” she called, her voice catching in her throat. There was a pause, then a voice, barely audible, came from the couch. It was her mom. “In here, sweetheart.” Maribel dropped her bag with a soft thud and hurried to the living room. Her mother lay curled on the couch under a thin blanket, her skin pale as paper, her eyes glassy with exhaustion. “Mom, oh my God”, Maribel dropped to her knees beside her. “You’re burning up." I’m calling Dad. We’re going to the hospital.” Her mother reached out, her hand frail but firm as it closed around Maribel’s wrist. “No hospitals, it's too expensive, we can't afford the bills, please. Just you and me right now.” “Mom…” Tears welled up instantly, blurring her vision. “What’s going on?” Her mother gave a weak smile and gently tapped the cushion beside her. “Come sit with me. I don’t have much time, my little angel.” Panic surged into Maribel’s chest. She sank onto the couch, still gripping her mother’s hand as if she could tether her to this world through sheer force of will. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” her mom said, her breath hitching. “But there are things I need you to hear.” “Okay,” Maribel said, barely holding it together. “I’m listening mom, Just… stay with me.” Her mother’s lips trembled, but her eyes locked onto her daughter’s. “Life’s not fair, baby. I wish I could shield you from everything hard. But I need you to promise me something.” Maribel nodded through silent sobs. “Work hard. No matter what. Even when it hurts, even when no one believes in you — you keep going. Don’t give up. Promise me.” “I promise,” Maribel whispered, her voice breaking. “Take care of your dad. He won’t show it, but this will break him.” “I will.” Maribel nodded, tears sliding freely down her cheeks now. “One more thing,” her mom whispered, squeezing her hand weakly. “Save yourself for marriage. Not because you owe it to anyone else but because you’re worth being loved, fully, deeply, by someone who earns it And… take care of yourself. Don’t let this world turn you cold. Don’t let it take away the softness in your heart, i may not be your mom, but i promise that i have always thought of you as my daughter. Maribel swallowed hard, nodding again. “I promise.” Her mother smiled, a soft, proud expression. “That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you.” and suddenly the realization dawn on Maribel that her mom just said something about not being her mom, but before she could ask any more questions, she noticed that she would never be to able to ask her mom any more question forever. Her mother's chest rose with a shallow breath… and then didn’t rise again. Maribel froze. “Mom?” She started almost inaudibly as she shook her gently. “Mom, no. No, please, Mom! Wake up! Don’t go! Please!” Her cries tore through the silence. She buried her face in her mother’s chest, her fists curled against the blanket. Then the door burst open. “Maribel!” her father shouted, stumbling in. “I got a voicemail from your mom; she sounded bad I came rushing back as soon as i listened to it." He stopped in his tracks. His gaze dropped to the scene on the couch his wife, still and pale. His daughter crumpled beside her. “Oh God. No.” He crossed the room in three long strides and knelt down, pulling Maribel into his arms. She clung to him, sobbing so hard her body shook. “She was talking to me,” she gasped. “She was fine, she told me to be strong.........she said she was proud of me and then...... and then, she stopped..... she stopped breathing dad, in my hands......... in front of me" Maribel tried explaining to her dad but the words kept getting stuck in mouth and her voice kept breaking. “I know,” he whispered, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry, I wasn't here” he gave her a brief hug before walking towards his wife's cold body. He gently picked her cold body and placed her head on his lap allowing the tears from his eyes to flow freely "Ho..ney" he shuttered. "If you can hear me, i just want you to know that i am sorry that I failed you, I am that I couldn't be a man and make you a mother. I am sorry that I could never fulfill any of your wishes since we got married" he paused before continuing. "I didn't give you your dream wedding, no vacations and i couldn't even afford your hospital bills, hereby making you leave in such a horrible state, I am so sorry babe, please......please forgive me" he finally let out all the pains he had built in him for years as he screamed out loud. Maribel watched her father as he cried like a child not knowing how to comfort him and then again another realization dawn on her that her father said something similar to what her mom said before she gave up the ghost. "what does dad mean by I am sorry I couldn't make you a mother...... I am here and she is my mom, or... am I not their daughter, No, no, no I shouldn't be having such thoughts." she thought of asking her dad but it wasn't the right time to do so. She would ask him when the time his right. With that she gently walked over to where her dad sat and hugged him. They sat together in the dim light, father and daughter, wrapped in grief two hearts broken around the same center of love and loss.