Moments flash. Memories haunt. She has horrific visions of her mom tied to a tree and being pelted with stones to death. Her mom twists and contorts in agony, gathering all that was still left in her for futile cries of help. Her spirit deteriorates with time, and so does her energy.
Nightmares continue to terrorize the little girl. Sleep was not as pleasant anymore. Ghastly images of her mom covered in blood keep lingering in her subconscious. She remembers the last time she saw her, it was right before her mom closed her eyes. She was blinking, but she was looking directly at her daughter. There was hardly any eye contact, but that transient pleasure seemed heart warming. She willed a faint smile and then gave up the fight.
The little girl wakes up to find Uncle Stan dozing off in a lean old chair, seated right beside her hospital bed. She’s told by the nurse that she’s been there for a week now. She wishes it was all just a terrible nightmare, and then she pinches herself, only to find out that it wasn’t. She tilts her head a little to look at the only family she had left, Uncle Stan.
Soon after her discharge, she’s approached by a local NGO. They promise her food, shelter, and most important of all, education. Weeks later, she’s welcomed into the orphanage. She receives a cordial welcome from a group of kids who were just like her. They all had nowhere to go and had nothing to lose.
Things around her had changed pretty fast, but she couldn’t shake things off just as quick. She regrets all the times she had been rude to her mom. She misses her bear hugs. She misses all her soothing lullabies while she cozily naps in her lap. She even misses their petty fights.
She dearly misses her mom.
The unpleasant hangover seemed to persist. The new surroundings heralded a new beginning. It was definitely a new start. Of what? She didn’t know. Can she now talk to boys? Now that her mom was gone, would it make them any better? Can she now talk back to elders? Will she ever own a smartphone? She knew not the answers and she knew no one to ask.
But she eventually began to make friends. Wounds were now scars. The orphanage was the tiny thread of life that she was now hanging on to. In fact, it was the only thread. She was still hurting, but she knew that she was growing. She now had a new appreciation for life. She nurtured the flickering flare that kept the cold away. A ray of light in a world of shadows. An undying spirit in the face of adversity. She had the will to live on. She now had……….hope.