Hop, Skip, Wed

"I crave a love so deep the ocean would be jealous." -Pablo Neruda *** The resounding echo of my heel connecting with the concrete pavement reverberated through the hushed stillness of the nocturnal hour. A disconcerting silence enveloped the night, disturbed solely by the ripple of my actions. The biting frosty gusts nibbled at my already flushed cheeks, a poignant reminder of my forgetfulness to retrieve my coat from the office yet again. Amidst the pitch-black darkness, a glimmer of light escaped through the parting of the living room curtains, casting an ethereal glow upon the front lawn. Hastening towards the door, I pressed the bell urgently, cursing myself for not opting for the convenience of my car that day. From within the house, the faint shuffling sounds echoed, akin to the kids recklessly descending the stairs, despite my countless admonitions. Abruptly, the door jerked open, catching me off guard and causing me to stumble backwards in astonishment. "How many times have I implored you all not to fling open the door so suddenly, and to refrain from carelessly sprinting down those stairs? One day, you'll give me a heart attack," I chided, hurriedly retreating into the house to escape the biting chill of the night. "Mom... um... we have something to tell you..." came a hesitant voice. "Yes?" I prompted, my curiosity piqued. "It's about Lilly." "What about her? Wasn't today the day her acceptance letter was supposed to arrive?" "Actually, that's precisely what we wanted to discuss." "She got accepted, didn't she?" The silence that followed my inquiry spoke volumes. "Oh no, I hope she's alright. She had her heart set on getting into Stanford. Is she coping? Where is she? Lilly?" Silence. It appeared that silence had become my constant companion that day. "MUM! YOU WON'T BELIEVE THIS. I GOT ACCEPTED! I'M GOING TO STANFORD!" Lilly's voice echoed as she bounded down the staircase, accompanied by a chorus of laughter from the other children. The realization that I had been the victim of an elaborate prank washed over me. "Congratulations, honey! I'm incredibly proud of you!" I beamed. Experiencing this joyous moment with them was indeed an honor. "Oh, Mom, don't be disheartened. Just because I'm turning 18 next week doesn't mean I'll cease visiting you all. I may not be able to reside here anymore, but my love for you remains unwavering," Lilly reassured me with tender affection. "I know. We'll miss you immensely. You've grown up so swiftly," I replied, my heart swelling with bittersweet emotions. "GROUP HUG!!!" Sam declared. "Alright, alright. Enough tears. It's time for bed. You all have school tomorrow," I declared, met with a chorus of groans that echoed into the distance. *** A series of knocks on my bedroom door jolted me awake in the dead of night. Peering to my right, I sought confirmation that it was indeed the late hours, rather than oversleeping with the children attempting to rouse me. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the clock read 3:30 a.m. Slipping into my slippers, I groggily made my way to the bedroom door, bracing myself for the unexpected. Opening it, I was greeted by a weeping Hope, a sight I hadn't anticipated. "Hope, darling, what's the matter? Why are tears streaming down your face? Are you hurt? Is there someone in your room? Is everything—" "Why did they abandon me?" she sobbed, her voice trembling. "What did I do wrong? Wasn't I pretty enough? Smart enough? Why?" Observing Hope, as well as all the other children in our humble abode—this makeshift orphanage—I realized the true worth of something only after its loss. These children had spent their entire lives here, bereft of parents and only graced with caretakers who regarded them as mere transactions. Most of these women scarcely bothered to extend genuine care towards these vulnerable souls. Three years ago... By now, I had become intimately acquainted with these streets, despite residing here for just under a year. They possessed an unparalleled serenity within the bustling cityscape, rendering them my haven. "HELP! HELP!" pierced the air, a child's anguished plea reverberating through the night. Instinctively, I sprinted toward the source of the desperate cry, propelled by an unyielding urge to offer assistance. The search reached its culmination when I spotted a young girl dangling from a tree on the front lawn of a building aptly named 'Home Sweet Home.' Encircled by her peers, she teetered on the precipice of leaping, with the other children reassuring her of their readiness to catch her fall. Scanning the vicinity, I discovered six women standing beneath another tree, merely observing this heart-wrenching spectacle unfold. Disturbed to the core, I made my way toward the tree. "Why doesn't someone climb up and help her?" I implored, urgency tainting my tone. "We're f*******n from scaling trees, and since she violated that rule, we're unable to assist her. She's terrified of heights, and I fear that if she remains suspended much longer, she may succumb to a panic attack," one of the children confided. Absconding from my shoes, I ascended the tree with nimble strides. As soon as I reached the branch supporting the distraught girl, she launched herself into my waiting arms. Although she was now safe from harm, her sobs persisted unabated. Regardless of her actions, it was unjust for those women to subject her to such a traumatizing punishment. Peering down at the child, I discerned that she couldn't be more than three years old—a tender age to endure such mistreatment. The mere thought of her enduring such cruelty at such a tender age ignited a furious inferno within me. If I hadn't intervened, she might have plummeted to the ground, suffering grievous injuries. "Where are your parents?" I inquired, my tone less than amicable. Their lack of responsibility and the absence of genuine concern from these hired women was utterly deplorable. Their response was naught but melancholic eyes and vacuous gazes, leaving me with the stark realization that this was an orphanage. The fact that these destitute orphans were subjected to such inhumane treatment fueled my wrath. Merely because they lacked biological parents didn't grant these women the authority to treat them as objects of indifference. If nobody else possessed the fortitude to condemn this abhorrent scenario, then I would. "Are those your caretakers?" I asked, my voice laced with determination, prepared to wage a battle if necessary. One of the children nodded, confirming my suspicions. Fortuitously, the women were approaching us. As they drew near, one of them attempted to snatch the little girl from my embrace. The key word being "attempted." "Hand her over," the shorter woman demanded. "No, you have proven to be negligent. What kind of punishment was that? If she had fallen, her delicate bones would have been shattered," I retorted, refusing to yield. "But she didn't, did she?" the taller woman retorted disdainfully.