Acceptance

It's been three years, three years and still nothing has changed. I am still the same little girl selling matches on the streets to afford a living, trying to get away from my psychotic relatives Auntie Lydia, Uncle Bernado, Milo, and Amira who live in a small village in Syria surrounded by a forest. Trying to escape the horrors of the day our house was attacked by thieves who were armed with guns, trying to believe that they're still there snuggled up on the couch just the three of us, that they’ll be waiting at home. Every single day I come back to an empty house with no parents snuggled up on the couch. Every day trying to survive in my cousin's house. Today was different, it was my birthday and I hoped that today of all days would be different, and the house was full of our relatives, but when I asked what it was for it was my oldest cousin’s, Amira,graduation party. Then my Aunt screamed "Maya you ungrateful brat, get over here!” I trudged over to the kitchen to find the most beautiful cake I had ever seen just sitting on the counter. She thrust a small cupcake in my hand and said “That’s your dinner.” I can't spend any of the good food on you.” and with that she marched away. I went down the hall to the dusty store room which was my makeshift bedroom after my parents died. No, they're not dead, I reminded myself, they're just missing. I went in and locked the door. I grabbed some matches and struck the candle. I quietly sang happy birthday to myself and blew out the candles. I munched on the cupcake and went to bed. Soon enough the party was over and everyone got ready for bed.. I woke up in the middle of the night to howl that pierced the night sending shivers down my spine, it was an alluring sound, something that I have heard before. Then all at once I heard my parents voice calling out to tell me to come home. I threw the door open and before I knew it I was standing in front of the forest and I called out “Mom, Dad?” I couldn't handle it anymore. I broke down into tears. I just wished everything was back to normal three years ago before my parents were killed by armed thieves. I felt a soft hand on my shoulder wiped away my tears and looked up to see my oldest cousin, Amira, staring down at me. She had a small carrot cake in her hand, and she bent down and gave it to me. She wrapped me in a hug and I cried in her arms and then we got up and went home. We blew out the candles and laughed and talked for a while. She was probably the only one who actually cared about me. Soon enough we went to bed and I was awoken to the thumping of stairs by my younger cousin Milo. Milo loved to annoy me and was really good at it. To him I was an unexpected addition to the family. I got out of my room and grabbed my coat and matches and walked out into the cold, harsh world. As I was selling matches I saw the baker looking at me with a queer expression. I often passed by the bakery when selling matches and normally the baker would buy some. This time when I went up and asked he said he had enough and went back to attend to the customer. And as I left the Bakery I felt his eyes on my back. By the time I got home it was late I managed to scavenge up a hundred dollars and get some food. I opened the door to a quiet and peaceful household and set off to my room. I had been saving up for three years and three years and one thousand dollars. I roamed around for a while and may have mixed a whole packet of chilipower into my aunt's food. She deserved it. I was sitting on the couch and watching T.V. when I heard a car pull up I switched off the tv and jumped off the couch just as my relatives burst through the door. I went to my room tip-toeing and quietly shut the door. Soon enough I was called out and told to do the house chores. As I cleaned I dreamed and remembered the times me and my parents would snuggle up on the couch and watch movies and laugh at the funniest parts while throwing popcorn at each other. We didn't have much but I was still happy. I knew that my parents are still alive. I went to bed that night determined to sell even more matches than today. I woke to the same piercing howl and found myself walking out the front door marching past the bakery and right in front of the forest. This time instead of a soft hand on my shoulder I felt a rough hand and looked up to see the baker. He asked me “ Have you been hearin it to?” I said yes and he started to tell me a fairytale “ Long ago in the land of our forefathers there was a wolf who would take away all the happiness that one had just to feed off their grief and make him more and more powerful. One time the wolf took too much happiness from one person, a little child. He took away all of his happiness and he turned cold and dark. He vowed to make the wolf pay for what he had done to him. The small boy tracked down the wolf and slowly started making him suffer. First he killed the wolf's only pup then he killed the wolf's sister then he killed the wolf's parents and lastly he killed the wolf's wife. The wolf killed himself due to grief. And the people were free. Soon after he met a woman and they all lived happily ever after. One could say that sometimes it is better not to hold onto the past. “ I thanked the baker for spending time with me and for the story and left. When I got home I found Amira waiting for me and I realized that tonight was her birthday. I begged her for forgiveness and we baked a small chocolate cake together and laughed and sang and danced. By the time we were done it was one A.M. and we went to bed. I realized that I may not have my parents but I did have Amira and the kind baker whose name was Abdul. The next day I went to the baker's place and asked if I could get a job here and he said yes. And that's the day when I realized that maybe life isn't that bad and it was time for me to move on. Abdul taught me how to bake even better and how to find my inner peace. I guess I found the secret of life. Moving on. 

The End