Chapter Three

EMMA'S POV

With a mother and a sister, life ought to be so simple and easy going but, I am at the opposite end of sweet goodness, of smooth living. My world fell apart after the unknown sickness which made my mother almost bedridden. Things turned tough as she had to quit her job, use up all her savings for countless medications, numerable tests, and home bills. 

And father? I do not have one. Anymore. He ran away from home—from us—shortly after the birth of my younger sibling, Hilda. I am not so certain but, life was not as hard as it is, not until puberty and wisdom knocked into our lives.

Being the older daughter especially at this crucial part of life is not so enjoyable nevertheless, I must shoulder it. Studying in college and working in the evenings of every single day makes it work—even a bit.

Daily meals, mum's medications, home bills and college funds make my mental shoulder sag. I am grateful that my grades had not dropped even when I felt like I had taken a step backward.

I never saw the need for Hilda to work like I do. I wanted a comfortable life for her, but the doubling of the medical bill almost sliced my neck, leading Hilda to the pizza store not so far away from our street.

I open my purse for the nineteenth time today, life is about to get a little bit difficult and the chances to scale through Mother’s illness, my sister’s college funds, stocking the fridge and paying the bills lies on the next miracle after these few wads of thin currency become exhausted.

Phew! Sitting on the wooden bench and watching others do what they do, live the life they want, makes me think of how mediocre my life is, and not doing enough; I should try harder.

I am lost in between the children’s giggle, the dog’s subtle barking and the students bidding each other goodbyes.

"Hey, girl! You spaced out?" Gina gently hits my shoulder.

I jolt out of my reverie, "Oh. Hey, Gina." My eyes meet with her blonde hair and green tips.

Gina is one of the prettiest A-list students in college. Her smiles are as sharp as her wit. Her hair was packed in a bun, firmer than mine that hangs loosely from the hair claw.

"What's happening? Are you good?" She sits beside me, tilting her oval head to see my face.

"Yeah, sure. I love your hair!" I elevate my voice to hide the worries welled up in my throat, the anxiety that wraps around my head.

"Thank you. It was just a trial," She giggles, "I wanted to ask if you have been able to finish up the project. I asked a few and it seems like no one has," Her perfectly manicured fingers do the talking alongside her lips, painted in red cherry lipstick.

"I have." I respond curtly.

"Is anything the matter? You look quite pale," She deviates.

I smile tapping her arm, "I'm okay. It's only my sour expression after seeing my plant wither."

She laughs lightly, "You take them as though they are humans."

"Of course. They live. I've done my project."

"Can I take a look, please?"

I open my bag zipper, handing her a notepad covered in shiny blue resin, "Here."

She flips through it, nodding her head as though she agrees with the whole idea I had drafted.

"It's cool. Really, cool. Our works are similar." She hands me hers to go through. Her handwriting is sloppily legible, unlike mine, tiny although legible in my sight.

I am an A-list college student with musical talent and also a fan of horticulture. I admire Gina for her prowess in debates but I could never do that. And she could never do horticulture. We are like vertical lines that break records and meet at some point.

Although, I am not as pretty as she is and maybe it is because I do not have so much money like she does yet, she gives flattery compliments to me.

"Hmm… Well, you might want to go through this again. A few corrections to be made." I say slowly, glancing at the last sentence of her written work.

"Thank you, Emma. I will go about that as soon as I'm home."

Then again, I envy her. She has all the time in the world—rest, study, shop, have fun and do a whole lot that I would never imagine doing around the clock.

I don't have such luxury. My routine is always morning work-out, quick breakfast, school, work, work and work and sleep for a few hours.

She is so privileged. Sometimes, I wish I could be Gina. I wish I could be in the bosom of wealth and privilege.

"I wish I could be like you." She says, swinging her legs back and forth like a child.

What on earth is so unique about me? I feel like screaming in my head.

"And, why?" I blink rapidly, waiting for her ever changing replies.

"You're cool. You are a million things, dear friend."

"You do not want to be me, I promise." I chuckle softly, hoping my chuckle conceal the truth in my statement.

"Really? Come on. You're a bright one." She winks at me.

After a moment of wanting to spill the burning liquid in my throat, I smile,

"Thank you. I'm blushing."

"Do you mind hanging out later on? If you'd be free." She shrugs.

"Errr…" I rub my nose bridge. Work is never giving such breathing space, "I’ll try."

"Here." She place a folded colorful paper in my palm, "Details."

"Thank you." I watch her hurry to the black car a few feet away.

Pffttt. There would never be a chance for me to attend whatever it was. I put the paper in my pocket, I did not want to discard it immediately.

"Welcome, sissy." Hilda’s voice rings through the house as I open the door. She is in the kitchenette, her back against the refrigerator and her hands filled with bowls of soup.

"Thank you. Where's mum? How was school?" I ask, shutting the creaky door behind me.

"She's asleep."

"Okay." I walk to my room, swinging my bag. I carefully undo the buttons on my shirt, my eyes skimming the room, hoping to get a wider space as time goes on.

'If wishes were horses…'

"Oh," I pick up the paper that flew out of my breast pocket. It was Gina’s invitation flier. I unfold the squares and it reveals;

103, Houston Park.

5 pm.

Lots of wine and fun.