Save Me - Chapter 2: Chapter 3
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Dahlia
I was raised by a chronically optimistic woman.
'Remember, Firefly, the universe always rewards those who are positive and kind.' She used to say in her singsong voice with a big bright unwavering smile on her beautiful face.
To many people, the notion of believing in rewards from the universe sounded odd, especially when they took one look at us and decided we were definitely not receiving any special favors from anyone.
Sure, judging by societal standards, we were way below the poverty line. If we were not living in our old run-down trailer, we had lovingly named Patricia, we were living in tiny apartments which were definitely not safe enough for human inhabitation located within sketchy unsafe neighborhoods. The little money we did have came from either the odd jobs we did or from her selling her hand made jewelry. She was brilliant at making jewelry.
But I never cared about not having much in terms of material possessions, how could I when we were far richer in happiness, love and contentment. It also helped that my mother made every hurdle and hardship that came our way seem like a new adventure.
When we were living in the tiny apartments, we would bake all sorts of cookies and when we lived in Patricia, she would drive us to the most vibrant flower fields where I would play amongst the wild flowers while she made jewelry. We would also camp out in the mountains under a blanket of stars and she would sing while I danced around the campfire.
I loved exploring every new town and city we visited, especially buying new books in the local second-hand book stores to add to our book collection. I fell in love with reading the moment mom taught me how. I may not have had the orthodox education my peers had but she made sure I learned everything I needed to through books and life lessons.
My mother was my teacher, my best friend, my home. She was my world. And my world came crushing down the day of the accident.
It was just an ordinary afternoon; mom and I had stopped over in a city to buy groceries before continuing our journey to our usual unknown destination. She left me to my devices in a book store while she headed over the convenient store across the street. I even smiled as I watched her float across the street through the windows, she was living her day like it was any other. Then out of nowhere a bus came barreling down the road. It was so sudden that my mother did not have time to react and I froze in horror as I watched it hit her.
The driver was drunk, the police officer had later told me, he ran a red light. He emerged from the accident unscathed while my mother fell into a coma. It was not supposed to happen, but I was grateful that she had not died right then and there.
It had now been a year since the accident and my mom was still in a coma. I was determined to keep her on life support until she recovered, but the hospital bills were piling up. Even after selling Patricia, working two waitressing jobs as well as the night shift of an office cleaning service, the money was still far from enough to keep up with the hospital bills.
To say I was drowning was an understatement.
That is why I was now at a local library planning to dig into my mother's past in hopes of finding a relative that would care enough about her to help us with the hospital bills. I did not know anything about my mother's family, but from the way she avoided talking about them, I knew that she wanted nothing to do with them. In fact, I did not know much about her life before she had me. I barely even knew about my father, only that he was a good man who tragically passed away before I was born. I trusted that she must have had a good reason to keep her past from me so I never pressed her for information.
But now I wish I had because I was desperate.
I knew that the chance of finding her family from a few internet searches was slim to none, but I still did it hoping the universe we believed in so much would pull through for her. So, taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer, I typed my mother's name into the computer. Many faces under the name Elizabeth Saunders appeared on the screen and after a few dozen scrolls, I began to lose confidence in my plan.
"Come on," I whispered under my breath. "Just something. Anything."
Before I could completely lose hope, a picture caught my eye. My heart skipped a beat as I leaned closer and clicked on the picture.
The woman beaming at me was not mom, but there was no denying the striking resemblance. Her blonde hair, which was styled in an elegant bob, was the exact shade of gold as my mother's and her twinkling hazel eyes were identical to mom's as well, even down to the flawless golden skin.
The only differences were that my mother's facial features were softer compared this woman's relatively angular features and contrary to mom's thrifted clothes and hand-made jewelry, this woman was wearing the most regal silk gown I had ever seen with an awe-striking diamond necklace resting on her collar bone.
At the bottom of the picture were the words 'Marie Elizabeth Saunders, 1989.'
After getting over my initial shock, I typed in the woman's name into the computer, ignoring the old man behind me making a show of tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for his turn to use the computer. More pictures of Marie Elizabeth Saunders popped up.
The first thing I learned was that she died in May of 2001 and my shoulders slumped from a strange feeling of loss, but I refused to give up my new found hope. They looked too alike to not be related and they even had the same name, so I was positive that I had just found a connection to mom's past.
Another thing I learned about Marie was that she was an heiress to a vast rail transport fortune and in 1975 when she was twenty, she got married to an oil tycoon, Gilbert Hall and they had two children together, Robert and Juliette. However, as I looked at their pictures together I noticed that unlike Marie's sunny disposition, Gilbert looked cold and emotionless. I kept scrolling, desperate to find any link between Marie and my mother, but I found nothing. Then after five minutes of being hunched over the computer reading, I reached a dead end.
"No,no,no," my heart sank when I realized that there was no more information about Marie's family after her death.
Gilbert Hall and the children seemed disappeared off the face of the internet. My shoulders slumped as reality hit me square in the face. Did you really expect to find a long lost relative willing to hand you an insane amount of money and solve all your problems through a simple internet search? I thought as the screen became blurry through my tears.
I liked to think I was just as optimistic as my mother, but it was getting harder to believe that everything was going to work out in the end when I could not see any light at the end or the dark tunnel I was trapped in. This was my last hope and now I had nothing.
Before I left the computer station, much to the grumpy old man's delight, I- for some reason- typed in 'Juliette and Robert Hall'.
"Just one more search," The persistent voice in my head implored.
I held my breath as the round loading icon spun, and when the results appeared on the screen, I gasped.
I was raised by a chronically optimistic woman.
'Remember, Firefly, the universe always rewards those who are positive and kind.' She used to say in her singsong voice with a big bright unwavering smile on her beautiful face.
To many people, the notion of believing in rewards from the universe sounded odd, especially when they took one look at us and decided we were definitely not receiving any special favors from anyone.
Sure, judging by societal standards, we were way below the poverty line. If we were not living in our old run-down trailer, we had lovingly named Patricia, we were living in tiny apartments which were definitely not safe enough for human inhabitation located within sketchy unsafe neighborhoods. The little money we did have came from either the odd jobs we did or from her selling her hand made jewelry. She was brilliant at making jewelry.
But I never cared about not having much in terms of material possessions, how could I when we were far richer in happiness, love and contentment. It also helped that my mother made every hurdle and hardship that came our way seem like a new adventure.
When we were living in the tiny apartments, we would bake all sorts of cookies and when we lived in Patricia, she would drive us to the most vibrant flower fields where I would play amongst the wild flowers while she made jewelry. We would also camp out in the mountains under a blanket of stars and she would sing while I danced around the campfire.
I loved exploring every new town and city we visited, especially buying new books in the local second-hand book stores to add to our book collection. I fell in love with reading the moment mom taught me how. I may not have had the orthodox education my peers had but she made sure I learned everything I needed to through books and life lessons.
My mother was my teacher, my best friend, my home. She was my world. And my world came crushing down the day of the accident.
It was just an ordinary afternoon; mom and I had stopped over in a city to buy groceries before continuing our journey to our usual unknown destination. She left me to my devices in a book store while she headed over the convenient store across the street. I even smiled as I watched her float across the street through the windows, she was living her day like it was any other. Then out of nowhere a bus came barreling down the road. It was so sudden that my mother did not have time to react and I froze in horror as I watched it hit her.
The driver was drunk, the police officer had later told me, he ran a red light. He emerged from the accident unscathed while my mother fell into a coma. It was not supposed to happen, but I was grateful that she had not died right then and there.
It had now been a year since the accident and my mom was still in a coma. I was determined to keep her on life support until she recovered, but the hospital bills were piling up. Even after selling Patricia, working two waitressing jobs as well as the night shift of an office cleaning service, the money was still far from enough to keep up with the hospital bills.
To say I was drowning was an understatement.
That is why I was now at a local library planning to dig into my mother's past in hopes of finding a relative that would care enough about her to help us with the hospital bills. I did not know anything about my mother's family, but from the way she avoided talking about them, I knew that she wanted nothing to do with them. In fact, I did not know much about her life before she had me. I barely even knew about my father, only that he was a good man who tragically passed away before I was born. I trusted that she must have had a good reason to keep her past from me so I never pressed her for information.
But now I wish I had because I was desperate.
I knew that the chance of finding her family from a few internet searches was slim to none, but I still did it hoping the universe we believed in so much would pull through for her. So, taking a deep breath and saying a silent prayer, I typed my mother's name into the computer. Many faces under the name Elizabeth Saunders appeared on the screen and after a few dozen scrolls, I began to lose confidence in my plan.
"Come on," I whispered under my breath. "Just something. Anything."
Before I could completely lose hope, a picture caught my eye. My heart skipped a beat as I leaned closer and clicked on the picture.
The woman beaming at me was not mom, but there was no denying the striking resemblance. Her blonde hair, which was styled in an elegant bob, was the exact shade of gold as my mother's and her twinkling hazel eyes were identical to mom's as well, even down to the flawless golden skin.
The only differences were that my mother's facial features were softer compared this woman's relatively angular features and contrary to mom's thrifted clothes and hand-made jewelry, this woman was wearing the most regal silk gown I had ever seen with an awe-striking diamond necklace resting on her collar bone.
At the bottom of the picture were the words 'Marie Elizabeth Saunders, 1989.'
After getting over my initial shock, I typed in the woman's name into the computer, ignoring the old man behind me making a show of tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for his turn to use the computer. More pictures of Marie Elizabeth Saunders popped up.
The first thing I learned was that she died in May of 2001 and my shoulders slumped from a strange feeling of loss, but I refused to give up my new found hope. They looked too alike to not be related and they even had the same name, so I was positive that I had just found a connection to mom's past.
Another thing I learned about Marie was that she was an heiress to a vast rail transport fortune and in 1975 when she was twenty, she got married to an oil tycoon, Gilbert Hall and they had two children together, Robert and Juliette. However, as I looked at their pictures together I noticed that unlike Marie's sunny disposition, Gilbert looked cold and emotionless. I kept scrolling, desperate to find any link between Marie and my mother, but I found nothing. Then after five minutes of being hunched over the computer reading, I reached a dead end.
"No,no,no," my heart sank when I realized that there was no more information about Marie's family after her death.
Gilbert Hall and the children seemed disappeared off the face of the internet. My shoulders slumped as reality hit me square in the face. Did you really expect to find a long lost relative willing to hand you an insane amount of money and solve all your problems through a simple internet search? I thought as the screen became blurry through my tears.
I liked to think I was just as optimistic as my mother, but it was getting harder to believe that everything was going to work out in the end when I could not see any light at the end or the dark tunnel I was trapped in. This was my last hope and now I had nothing.
Before I left the computer station, much to the grumpy old man's delight, I- for some reason- typed in 'Juliette and Robert Hall'.
"Just one more search," The persistent voice in my head implored.
I held my breath as the round loading icon spun, and when the results appeared on the screen, I gasped.
End of Save Me Chapter 2. Continue reading Chapter 3 or return to Save Me book page.