My dear girl, you have to learn how to survive because no one it’s going to do that for you.”
“Why not, mommy?”
“It’s because everyone needs to survive their own demons first.”
“Demons? Are they like monsters?”
“Yes, but they are always inside of you.”
“Inside of me?”
The mother nodded gently, while humming an old tune that she once heard from the radio when she was a little girl herself.
The young girl slowly touched her small, frail chest listening to her heartbeat.
“Is this the monster?”
“No, my dear, that’s your heart.”
The night was peaceful.
Peaceful as it can be. The stars were hidden by the dark clouds of the night but the moon shone with all it’s glory, proud to be white. It wasn’t bright enough to quieten the crickets or gentle winds that passed through my hair.
The house or well, the room I lived in was tiny. It had a small window to breath through, a bed right in the corner, then a cupboard with the TV on top. The walls around me were shaded in grey making the room more gloomy that it was already. The light of the moon only shone onto my grey sheets that were laying around my bed. It was another reminder to wash them or better if new ones were brought.
However to be able to that I need some free time from work, or find shops that sells cheap new sheets or even make more money then the national minimal wage. Otherwise, my old sheets that are filled dirt, sweat and tears are not going to magically become clean, as even washing machines and dry cleaners are still very expensive.
The night was peaceful.
Peaceful as it can be. The stars were hidden by the dark clouds of the night but the moon shone with all it’s glory being white. It wasn’t bright enough to quieten the crickets or gentle winds that passed through my hair.
The house or well, the room I lived in was tiny. It had a small window to breath through, a bed right in the corner, then a cupboard with the TV on top. The walls around me were shaded in grey making the room more gloomy that it was already. The light of the moon only shone onto my grey sheets of bed that I haven’t been able to wash it for weeks now.
Bluntly speaking I’m poor.
Like really poor.
I can’t afford more than a room in a building that doesn’t meet the minimum requirement of the safety standard. Which is one of the reasons I can afford it.
Well, barely afford it.
The landlord sometimes doubles the rent as most people who live here are either:
- Poor as fuck
Since the landlord knows we can't go anywhere else as we would probably become homeless he sometimes deliberately doubles the rent once a year so for extra income. Although he doesn't do that often (in fear that someone gets annoyed and kills him), he's still a pain in the ass.
There was a sudden repetitive banging on the door awakening me from the pain of losing more money from the greedy landlord.
"Open the up the fucking door!" A voice screamed.
I knew that voice, it was the devil himself.
I hurriedly opened the door, after I took a quick glace at my phone and realized it was midnight. Realization slowly crept into me; I knew the current state of the landlord now.
There he was drunk.
The middle-aged man had a bottle of heavy alcohol in his left hand that leaned into the frame of the door, while his right hand was covering most of his face. His unkept hair looked a bit oily showing the lack of hygiene for the past few days. His tears kept falling on his leather shows that was gifted to him years ago, which he still wears fondly, even today.
"She's not there," he continued to quiver "she's gone..."
"Mr. Landlord, you drank too much already, please put the bottle away." I tried to take the green glass bottle but he pushed away as he staggered backward. He then, swung the bottle as he took another gulp of the burning liquor.
"Elena, do you remember her?" He looked hopeful in his eyes.
"Her beautiful soft chest-nut hair which shined in the sun, her eyes that always hold mischief all the time, her smile that brightened everyone's day her playful tongue which talked about everything in the world."
"I do remember her, I do!"
"She always sang about being an angel and helping everyone in need and how she would 'make sure everyone has at least a bun to eat'," he fell on his knees, creating a huge 'thump' on the ground, revealing his tear stricken eyes that overflowed with sadness and loss.
I always hummed to her songs, so how could I forget her?
She always sang and dance even though everyone living in the flat that time were moody. But somehow or the other, she would make them crack a small smile. She became a second mother to me, while the landlord or also known as Sam became a second father.
Sam wasn't always greedy. He was the man who brought out cookies in the evening when everyone would tired from a long day of work. He used to say that it was out 'reward' for being resilient and self-reliant. He used to swing the batches of cookies that was set on tray, left and right while he's wife used to sing any song from her sweet voice.
They were a great couple. They were a relationship I wanted to have in the future. He was the person who always uses pick-up lines on his wife while she gently smacked his head as she blushed to every one of them, even though they were married more than fifteen years.
They were sweet, sugary and soft.
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