A little sweet snow

One summer afternoon. The remaining clouds in the sky were being dyed by the late afternoon light of the early sunset and changed to a sweltering red-orange color.

However, the embellishment of the sunset seemed to be useless since, only a few minutes later, the sky abruptly darkened, putting an end to the summer's hues. Warm orange-yellow street lighting gradually switched on on the village's cement roadways. It was almost entirely black at this point, with just weak spots of light visible against the gloomy sky. Somewhere, there was the sound of a lady selling apples. It appeared that she was trying to sell the remaining to get back to her family, with her starving children at home.

I walked slowly along the street gradually putting on the lights and carrying a bag of veggies. Suddenly, I saw an apple seller. Then I swiftly turned around and said:

"Half price, please."

While the seller still was bewildered like her brain unable to comprehend anything, I sighed with an unchanged face and said:

"I will take them all, so wrap for me please."

The vendor quickly seized this opportunity, even if it meant selling all of the apples for half of their original price. She gave a brief nod.

"All well, I'll pack it all up for you." She said.

I gave her the change. If this were typical, I would not spend money on such a thing because I already have everything I need for supper. That is my mentality; I am not one to squander money on frivolous goods. But when she passed me, with just one glance, I recognized the scratch on the apple cart and the seller's wound as she moved. She must have just experienced a small accident that, although not serious, had a significant impact on sales. There were still a lot of unsold apples so I was moved.

Well, doing a good job every once in a while doesn't make me feel bad. I thought so.

''Hey, little miss.'' A tattooed uncle call me in a joking voice.

I completely ignored the call. The deeper you go into the dark alley near my neighborhood, the more members you will meet at the bottom of society. Since I moved here, every day I have to meet those bad people, but they won't even touch me with a finger cause they know that I'm not an easy kid to be bullied. If they play me once, I'll give it back 10 times so they don't even dare to poke fun at me.

After going through the shops selling things that should not be mentioned, I stopped at the old rusty old gate, so fragile that it seemed that it only needed a slight impact from a storm to collapse.

Nonetheless, the ancient gate has stayed in place for years, year after year. The gate made a cracking squeak every time it was opened, like the sound of opening the path to hell. I laughed in my head at my clumsy comparison. Anyway, my new life now compared to the "hell" of my childhood is still much better.

Since I was a child, I have seldom smiled, and even fewer times have people seen me cry. My mother used to tell me that I was a very fussy sleeper who was hard to lull to sleep. Because, after trying to lure me for a while, my mother heard me crying again as if I was unsatisfied with something. I was even an anorexic child, which made my mother feel exhausted all of the time. Although I became more understanding and obedient as I grew older, the beatings my mother gave me continued to increase day by day. Is it because my face has inherited my father's traits: delicate features, lovely eyes, and strong brows? I wonder.

''Look, you're no different than your goddamn father. Will, you also leave me to flirt with another guy ? Then you just threw it away to follow someone because they have more money, right? Is that right?"

Every time my mother made this claim, it was followed by a succession of whips slamming into the legs and back of a 5-year-old child - the age that should have been raised by parents' love. And eventually, some of the things I used to say to my mother, such as "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," were replaced by defiant silence and wide, resigned eyes.

When I was 6 years old, my mother abandoned me to marry another man. I was moved to my aunt's house, and it was a second hell here.

In the house were a useless uncle, a stingy miserly aunt, and two sassy cousins ​​spoiled by overindulgence. Four people like to join forces to bully me.

Even though I was young at the time, I was fully aware that they didn't like me at all. During the time I lived in that residence, I was like a person with no place to stand, being exploited for labor and scolded by those evil people.

My not-so-good childhood, I admitted, had a large impact on my personality, which turned me into a cold, apathetic child. People said I always act like the world seems to be only me that exists. But the contemporary reality isn't just about me; I also have a grandma to look after. She was frail and always suffering from Alzheimer's illness, yet she was possibly the only person in this world who I considered a relative.

When I opened the door and came in, I saw my grandma was sitting on the ground, scratching the carpet with her fork like a kid. I'm aware that her disease has resurfaced.

Whenever my grandmother's mind is clear, she will be like a good fairy in an ancient fairy tale, chatting to me and encouraging me. But when the sickness recurs, though, my grandma reverts to a kid. Was this a safe solution for the elderly to escape the harsh reality and return to the past? I wonder. Because our present is like a rope that connects the fate of two individuals who have been abandoned by the world, the only way to survive is to rely on each other. That's so pathetic.

Somewhere in the neighborhood, there appeared to be a struggle between two brothers over the final piece of strawberry. Maybe the family is something holy and out of grasp, I sighed quietly. In the wonderful scenarios that I frequently dream of, there will be a mother who carefully takes care of the family, a father who comes home from work picks up his children, and kisses them on the cheek. That is called happiness, the ultimate goal of all human beings.

''Eira!'' My grandmother raised her voice with joy when she saw me.

I put the bag on the table and asked softly:

"Are you hungry?" I put on my apron, rolled up my sleeves, and quickly went to the kitchen to cook dinner. Time and living life crushed my small childhood dream. Right now, my main life purpose has only one: to survive in this strict life and earn a lot of money.

Grandma shook her head, pointed to a small calendar on the bookshelf, and looked at me with pleading eyes. I put down the knife and said to her in a cold voice:

"No, you cannot. The weather forecast said it will rain tomorrow." I stated emphatically. With her uncomfortable health, it is preferable to stay at home tomorrow, whether it is sunny or rainy, chilly or hot.

Having lived with me for a long time, she probably understands that my decision is not easily changed. However, I did not want to see her upset so I told her more to comfort her current mood:

"I'll take my time preparing for Grandpa. Please don't worry."

When my grandmother heard this, she obediently fulfilled my words, but still did not forget to add:

"Don't forget to bring him sweet apples as well. He used to enjoy them."

"Yes." I gave a brief response and wonder why a person with her memory issues knows what he likes to eat. Grandpa in heaven must have been overjoyed. Then I accidentally chuckle, unless I believe that when I die, someone will feel sorry for me and place a flower on my grave.

The answer is no. Because right now, I only have her as my only relative. I have had a close connection neither in the past nor in the present.

If I let myself use all of my knowledge to think in the present, I can't possibly imagine that in the future, there will be someone willing to risk his life for me, and I will adore that guy for my entire lifetime.

A person who makes my heart beat faster; when he smiles, I will unconsciously be on cloud nine as if it is warmed by the sun and when that person departs, my life becomes gloomy. He slowly but steadily broke through my defenses and moved closer to my little world.

I'm not sure if meeting him is the best luck I've ever had or not. But I am certain that, ever since I met him, for the first time, an apathetic person like me has felt feelings I had never felt before. That emotion just keeps growing and expanding...

...like a flower bloomed in the snow.