GRACE IN CHAOS

The sound of the morning—birds singing loudly outside my window—kept me awake. It almost felt like they came right up to my window on purpose, determined to wake me from my sleep. Still half-asleep, I heard a knock on my door. “Ariel…!” That voice—definitely my mum. I guess morning had truly arrived. We lived in a small town—my mum, dad, and my siblings. My dad was disabled, so he couldn’t work. Every morning before school, I had to help my mum sell pap on the streets, hawking to support the family.There was this boy named Elvis who had the biggest crush on me. I used to tease my mum about it all the time, saying he was probably going to marry me someday. Whenever I went out to sell pap, he would always buy from me—even on days when he clearly didn’t want any. But honestly, I couldn’t stand his guts. “Mama Ariel, na me go marry this your daughter!” he would always say with a grin.But I would always snap back at him, anger sharp in my voice. “I’m never going to marry you, Elvis!” I’d yell, rolling my eyes while he only laughed like I hadn’t just insulted him. I used to think being introverted was a bad thing. Naturally, I was quiet, but selectively, I could be different around people I felt comfortable with. Sometimes, silence felt safer than trying to explain the chaos constantly running through my mind. Growing up, I had always dreamed of becoming a fashion designer. I wanted to be like Veekee James. I admired her craft so much. Whenever I saw her designs, I would stare at them for minutes, completely amazed. She’s not just a designer, I would always tell myself, she’s an artist. One day, I wanted people to look at my work that same way. My name is Ariel, and I am seventeen years old. Life had forced me to grow up faster than most people my age. While other girls worried about parties and crushes, I worried about helping my mum sell pap before school and making sure there was enough food at home. My friend Chi, as I usually called her, would often look at me with concern in her eyes. “Ariel, aren’t you too young to be carrying all of this on your shoulders?” she would ask softly. But I would always respond with my brightest smile, even when I was tired deep down inside. “I enjoy doing it… after all, they’re my family.” And maybe that was true. Or maybe I had just learned to hide my pain behind a smile so well that even I started believing it. That evening, the sun was already leaning low in the sky when I finally started heading back home with my empty pap bucket. My legs felt heavy, like they were carrying more than just my body. On the way, I noticed Elvis standing by the usual corner again. He always seemed to be there—like the street itself had taught him my routine. “Ariel!” he called out, smiling as if nothing in the world could ever go wrong. I sighed, adjusting the strap on my bucket. “What do you want again?” “I just came to help you carry it,” he said, stepping closer like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I don’t need your help,” I snapped immediately, my voice sharper than I intended. “And stop acting like you care.” His smile faded a little, but he didn’t leave. That only annoyed me more. “I told you already,” I continued, tightening my grip on the bucket, “I’m not going to marry you. Ever.” For a moment, there was silence between us. The kind that made everything feel louder—the distant noise of the town, the wind brushing past, even my own breathing. Then he laughed softly, like I hadn’t just rejected him again. “One day, you’ll stop saying that,” he said quietly. I turned away before he could see my expression change, and I walked off faster than I needed to… pretending I didn’t feel anything at all. When I got home, I saw my mum and dad sitting outside under the coconut tree. For a moment, I slowed down my steps, just watching them. The goats wandered around the compound, the chicks scattered under the fading light, and everything felt so normal… too normal for what was about to happen. I was just about to greet them when I heard my mum’s voice clearly cut through the air. “I think Ariel has to stop school so the younger ones can continue. We don’t have enough to train all of them.” Time stopped. I swear it did. My feet went numb, my hands lost strength, and for a second I couldn’t even breathe properly. It was like something inside me just shut down completely. My dad tried to speak immediately, his tone calm like always, trying to reduce tension. “Let’s think about it properly—” he started gently. But my mum didn’t let him finish. “No, there’s nothing to think about,” she cut in sharply. “We can’t afford everything. Something has to give.” I stood there, still frozen, pretending I hadn’t heard anything. My throat felt dry, but I forced myself forward. I cleared my throat. “Good evening, sir. Good evening, ma,” I greeted, my voice steady in a way my heart was not. The moment I looked at my mum, I caught it—the expression on her face. Not sadness. Not guilt. Just… exhaustion. Like I was a problem she had already accepted solving. My dad avoided my eyes. That was worse. Silence stretched between us. Then I slowly walked closer, placing the pap bucket down carefully as if my hands weren’t shaking. “Mum,” I said softly, forcing a small smile, “I heard what you said.” Her face didn’t change much. “It’s not final yet,” she replied, but her tone didn’t sound like someone who was unsure. I nodded slowly, even though my chest felt like it was collapsing inward. And then, without warning, my memories started speaking louder than I did. All those mornings helping her hawk pap. The tired legs before school. The dreams I kept quiet because I didn’t want to sound selfish. The sketches I hid under my mattress, dreaming of becoming like Veekee James one day. I swallowed hard. “Okay,” I said finally, too quickly. Too quietly. My mum turned away like the conversation was already over. My dad sighed, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to hold the whole situation from falling apart. But I just stood there. Smiling on the outside. While something inside me quietly broke for the first time. That night, sleep refused to come. I lay on my small bed, staring at the cracked ceiling above me while the sounds of the night settled into the house. Somewhere outside, a dog barked once… then silence followed. Even the usual noise of the town felt distant, like it knew I wasn’t okay. I turned to my side, hugging my knees closer to my chest. Ariel. My own name felt heavier than usual. Everything kept replaying in my head—my mum’s voice, my dad’s silence, the way she spoke like my future was something flexible… something that could be rearranged without asking me. I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe I heard it wrong, I told myself. But I didn’t. A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. “Ariel…” my mum’s voice came gently from the doorway. I didn’t answer immediately. After a moment, I sat up slowly. She stepped inside, holding a small plate of food. She placed it on the stool beside my bed and sat down without looking at me for too long. “I know you heard us,” she said quietly. My throat tightened, but I stayed silent. She sighed. “Things are not easy. You know that.” I nodded slightly, still not trusting my voice. For the first time, her tone softened a little. “I didn’t say it because I don’t care about you.” That sentence made something inside me ache. But I still didn’t speak. We sat in silence for a while—the kind that says too much without saying anything at all. Then she stood up slowly. “Eat your food,” she said before leaving the room. The door closed behind her. And I stayed there… staring at the plate… wondering how something could hurt so much and still feel so quiet at the same time.