The Orphan's Goddess

-Conner's POV-

"RUN! CONNER RUN!" the voice in my head made me shut my eyes tight. "MOTHER! NO! I CAN'T!" the once ten-year-old Conner was torn between stepping towards the door to obey his mother's command or towards his mother lying on the floor crying, nose bleeding, body bruised from head to toe from the beatings of his father, Raul Lowell. He wanted to cover his tiny body over his mothers to protect her from getting another BIG BLOW his father might give her. However, what could he possibly do? His strength is no match from that of his father’s. Think Conner! Think! He was trying to figure out a way to grab his mother and escape from this misery. He was so confused that he ended up standing there helpless and unable to move. His tears were falling madly on his cheeks, but then his mother smiled at him and with a swift move she grabbed a knife on the table near where she was lying and stabbed the back of his father three times and killed the man who made their lives a living hell. After giving the last strand of strength his mother had, she collapsed. He ran towards her and started shaking his mother’s body, trying to wake her up like she was just sleeping. “NO MOM! PLEASE! WAKE UP! DON’T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!” He shouted from the top of his lungs as if it would help her wake up, but she never did, she never came back to life. The only thing that he had were the last words his mother gave him, "I love you, son."

Reliving my past was as swift as lighting and thunder that made my body shiver. My eyes opened wide and tucked in my knees to rest my chin on it. Closing my eyes allows me to draw a line between chaos and silence. It calms the beat of my heart as the wild wind caressed every bruise in my entire body. I allowed to relieve myself and gave out a big sigh signaling my eyes to stare at the setting of the sun, down to where its light will be hidden beyond the horizon. The day started and ended with me at the seashore near that little garage I now call my home. It claims to be little, but it is more to a 20-year-old man whose past could never be drawn by lines or shapes for it was succumbed by darkness and the only plot for him was to run. Little did he know about light for there was not a day with it.

I was staring blankly wanting no more than just an empty space for myself. "I am lucky." I chuckled at the thought. Well, at least that's what most people say. They said not to wallow in my misery and that I was given a chance to move forward to get a taste of what life could bring. But still, I doubted it. Is living alone lucky? I questioned it and every time I did, the pain of the past triples and it is making me more helpless. After my parents died, I grew up living in the orphanage. The nuns talked to me whenever they had the time and there was a therapist who guided me out of the trauma I went through. I was treated there nicely, but throughout those years I had been longing for my mother’s love. I may have found new friends, but there was something missing like a puzzle that lost one piece of it. When I turned 18 the orphanage had to let me go to find the path I wish to take since I was already an adult. That was the time I found this garage and made it my home. I had to look for a job especially that the money lent by the orphanage was just enough to last for a month. Good thing that my orphanage had an educational program which helped me finish high school and this aided me to get a job easily at the inventory department of Lyla’s Café. I must admit that everything went smoothly, maybe I was truly lucky. However, I still wanted to have that space wherein I don't have to think about anything, but even though I do, I don't want to become an empty space which is who I am at the moment. My thoughts went to a halt when I heard a loud bang from a harshly closed door and when I traced as to where it came from I saw a young lady wearing a light, white cocktail dress with hair so soft as the wind feasted with each strand of black. She is running towards the little waves, letting the little devils kiss her bare feet making my face flush of jealousy. "HOLY MOTHER OF GOD," I thought. Is she a goddess from a Greek mythology book that came to life? No, she's an angel. I stared at her intently. "Where are your wings lovely maiden?" I uttered unknowingly. Her face glowed from the rays of the setting sun. I couldn't believe such beauty lives! She must be immortal! or my eyes must be deceiving me. Oh but if I'm trapped in the world of fantasy then let this be my destiny. Just then I noticed that her cheeks gave out a shade of light red, that's when I realized that she was crying. Why? What could be the reason? What should I do? Should I go and ask? Oh God! I can't! I have never felt this restless. I could feel my wanting heart, but I'm hesitant. If I'll make a move she might vanish in an instant and I just can't afford that. However, I don't like to see her in her sorrow. I shook my head and stared at her again, but when my eyes got sight of her I was caught off-guard. She was walking towards that greeting sea. She was heading for the big waves! It can't be?! She's not going to do it! I couldn't seem to have a final decision, but she's too far now and very near danger. Before I knew it I stood up and was running towards her.