Heavy with a light headache yet I woke from a good sleep which I haven't experienced in ages. I was recalled to a fond memory of my husband back when we were both ever so young and happily in love, enjoying the summer afternoon together under our fond tree, laughing so gleefully at our pitiful jokes. I found myself smiling at reminiscing the moments of that time. Now that I am reminded of this, I wonder what of it.
It is still the dead of winter as I look out the window when I had mistaken it for a warm sunny afternoon after that dream. Sigh.
As I was about to get down from the bed dreading to live another day, I noticed some weight pulling on my blanket from one the side of the bed. I turned and found the brat sleeping, leaning and laying her head to rest on the bed while the rest of her body still sits on the chair. I looked around to see a wet towel drenching the top of my pillow, she must have put it on my forehead while I was asleep but it fell when I moved. How long has she been here?
I carefully moved down the bed as to not wake her but she still woke up.
"Grandmother?"
Rubbing her eyes, she struggled to open them voluntarily. I must have disturbed her sleep and forced her awake. "You're up"
"How are you feeling, has your fever gone down?", I wondered what she was talking about. I've only laid down on my bed a while ago because of my throbbing headache.
"Fever? What fever? I'm fine", did I make an odd expression? She stared at me, now completely awake.
"You were sound asleep, sick for quite a while"
"I was?". I fear nothing could escape this child's wise precision.
"Yes. We thought you were finally dying from all your heavy drinking"
"What?"
"..."
When I first saw her, she looked no different than the stray dog in the streets. Ragged and skinny to the point of boney, heck, maggots even started growing on her. I've heard and seen how horrible she was treated in the orphanage. No one knew of her real origin, they said she just turned up one day and begged to be let inside saying she could read and write. Who knows what kind of shit this kid's been through. But instead of a sense of dysphoria or determination in the look of her dirty amber eyes, it gave off something more… eerie, as if her little eyes has seen everything in this world. Looking into her cold gazes, you'll find yourself staring into a void not knowing it's already been staring right back at you ever so calmly. Not the kind of look you would want to see on a child.
She's like any other orphan from the slums but she gives off such a mystifying charm, it was the reason why I chose her. Barely 6 at the time but she understood everything that went on around her. I've continued to observe her for the past months since I brought her here, however hard I may have tried to ignore her, which is almost a year now but she never seems to change. Most kids would have tire out of their polite fronts and revert back to being foolish brats but not her. She knows how to stick to her role and always kept that calm and collective manner of hers as long as she is left alone. She never complains about anything unless it gets in her way, she doesn't whine about it either because she just simply shows it.
I remembered the time we unknowingly forced play dates on her and she responded by scaring them away with ghost stories, hiding and throwing cold tea at their faces. We thought she'd be lonely being the only kid around here and she was just shy not knowing how to approach other children her age normally, little did we know she was actually sending us warnings that she didn't want to participate in dates. And the last straw of it was when she almost stabbed a kid's eye and even succeeded in injuring the another by stabbing a pencil in his arm. Luckily, the wound wasn't as deep enough but it will still leave a permanent scar. I got into quite a lot of trouble for that because they were children of nobility but with it, we learned our lesson as to never give her a play dates ever again.
She poses to be judicious and dauntless most of the time. She does not even react differently to whatever the situation is but we have found her to be capricious and quite apathetic. I certainly fail to read her, she's confusing and you never know what she may do next. Her expression is never vivid, even when going through something terrifying. I winched my eyes when I remembered what I did. Being such a peculiar child, I consulted an expert, paying for the most talented doctor to check up on her and for myself in how to parent her. I do not know how to handle children, but I am curious and I want to know everything about her. However, it is not an easy fit for the both of us to open up to each other, we're not exactly alike.
"The young miss seemed to have gone through quite…a very traumatic early childhood, Madame. I'm sorry to say, it won't be easy"
"Why? Was it something that they did to her?"
"I have consented to her in inquiring about her past and I have found rather…should I say, barbarous information from her"
"Tell me"
What I learned from the doctor then, I could not accept to believe it. For the first time, I have felt intense anger and held grudges against people I do not even know. She did not tell the doctor but it is evident now that she wasn't lying when she said she killed her parents.
The session lasted for hours, it may have been the longest time I had spent without sipping on a bottle of liquor while talking with someone. I From him, I learned that she came from a small village up in the mountains near the west border from a disabled alcoholic father and a prostitute mother. The doctor went on to say how she has a sensitive memory on alcoholics because of her father who had abused her, her mother was no different either. At that age she shouldn't be forced to face such atrocities. How could any parent treat their own child so cruelly. And after how I treated her, I feel as though I am no different from them. For such terrible things to have happened to a child, no wonder why she is the way she is.
When I was younger, I had experienced much unfortune myself, my upbringing had been difficult but I had been always been physically blessed, I was healthy enough despite my circumstances. But looking at her scrawny body, she is nowhere near comparable with mine at that age, and for such a weak child, one could only wonder how she has survived all of that.
I've yet again realized another regret. After the doctor left, I was left to ponder on my own. So utterly and completely. I have not treated her any better than those who raised her yet I am so harsh of a judge.
At first I didn't care, I didn't want to care. Thinking I have been in so much pain, I lived in such dysphoria for a long time. Dwelling on my own feelings not caring that the people around me had also gone through similar or perhaps even much worse events. In my agony I let it infect them as well.
I took her in so I could have a child of my own, even when it's only through fostering. Now, a rat is acting as my daughter and she plays the role perfectly. While I as her mother, am simply irresponsible as a parent. This seems no different than buying a dog simply because I like its fur and then leaving it to the servants to raising it to maintain its pretty fur for my own satisfaction.
I sighed and looked out the front yard.
'Lupa'…
A word from the eastern language that translates to 'dirt'. A word unbefitting to be a child's name. The name doesn't even resemble her in any way at all, not with her very pale skin, long raven black hair and those enticing, almost striking amber eyes. It seems her parents were neglectful from the start.
An orphaned child…someone I was before, I should have been the one to understand her most since we came from the same upbringing yet she beat me in playing the role of responsibility. Well, there's no use dwelling on the blame any longer, it will only make me feel worse than I already do. I took her in so she is my responsibility. But do I really deem myself worthy as a mother? Considering this old age, what a joke. Moreover, I'd hate for her to see 'that' part of me.
How foolish, really. I am simply dooming myself.
Bringing an already broken child into an equally corroded household of this demented old hag.