Four gremlins
~1846 September 17th, London~
"MAMA!!!"
"Wha... Huh?!" Aurora leaped from the bed, falling to the floor with a loud thud.
Huffing, her wide, glazed eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Not again." She exhaled sharply, closing her eyes.
The morning light flooded her room, a clear sign that she had overslept. Again.
As was to be expected, her clock's alarm had proven no match for her deep sleep, and she braced herself for another round of scolding.
Thankfully, she had gremlins to wake her up at perfect timings. Four of them.
"Hmm." She groaned, getting to her feet, pushing her ruffled hair back.
"Let go!!!"
"MAMA!!!"
She heard those little troublemakers again, so she hurried from the bedroom into the living room where she found her four gremlins fighting each other. She let out an exasperated sigh as they continued to scratch their faces, which were already covered in little bandaids.
As soon as they realized she was there, they ran to her, embracing her legs with their eyes full of tears.
"Mama, Leon started it!" Lucien cried out. He was the smallest, youngest, and most frail among his brothers, making him look especially delicate and vulnerable in comparison to them.
Right now, he was the one with the most wounds and the most amount of bandaids.
Knowing that he was also the most sensitive of the group, Aurora took him into her arms and removed the bandages from his face, not surprised to find faint signs of damage.
"I didn't, I promise!" Leon lashed out at his brother, anger sharpening in his tear-filled eyes.
"Stop lying. You started it." Adrien sulked at him.
"Huh?!" Leon's eyes widened with incredulity. "That is because Lucien stole my water gun. Alexandre told me!"
Alexandre released his grip on his mother's leg, raising his hands like a criminal caught red-handed. "Do not drag me into this."
Aurora let out a heavy sigh. "Stop."
Her children gave her a wide-eyed stare.
Lucien put his hand to her cheek and mumbled, "Sorry if we woke you up, mama." He had a guilty look on his face.
Aurora remained silent. In reality, she had woken up quite late.
After giving them a bath, she got them ready for school. Taking her time, she made them some breakfast.
Every second, her thoughts would drift away, leaving her with a complete mental blank, and she felt a slight shiver running through her body.
After her children had left for school, she went to the office and sat at her desk, ignoring the looks from her coworkers.
Yes, she was running late, but why did they need to look so closely?
Soon, they were chatting and whispering amongst themselves.
"Will he come in here and cause another commotion?"
"He does that every day."
"Oh, poor Aurora."
"Aurora Dumont!" Mr Wimpole, her boss, barked loudly in rage as he strode into the room.
Everyone rose to their feet, bowing their heads continuously.
"Good day, sir,"
"How are you today, sir?"
They all greeted as if he had yelled their names in rage.
Lowering her head, Aurora stood up quietly. "Good morning, sir." She spoke in a composed tone, devoid of fear.
"Do you think... is this your company?! Are you the boss?!" Yelling, he charged at her, his big, covered stomach bouncing like a basketball.
"No, sir." Aurora mumbled, clutching her fist.
She really had to control her rage. Gladly, she had gotten used to controlling her rage ever since she became a mother.
"This character..." Mr Wimpole waved his hand at her with a disgusted expression on his face. "This is the reason why you are a single mother."
As the firstborn son of the esteemed Wimpole and Sons clockmaking and inventing family, Frederick, in his early thirties, had inherited a successful business.
Nevertheless, his extreme laziness and lack of physical activity had taken a toll on his appearance, making him look much older, closer to fifty-five. Yet, his ownership of the prominent company made him a desirable catch, attracting many women who were drawn to his wealth and social standing.
He had always tried to entice Aurora. But she consistently turned him down and refused his advances leading to a strong hatred.
The coworkers looked at Aurora with a mixture of sympathy and resentment towards their boss.
Aurora looked up, noting their expressions. "What exactly is so wrong with being a single mother?"
She was used to Mr Wimpole approaching and disparaging her, treating her as though she were the source of all of his problems in life. He paid her so little that it was difficult for her to care for her children. And she was unable to work at other jobs due to the fact that all of them wanted to lay with her in exchange for a free ticket.
Just as it had always been, women continued to face the same systemic injustices and biases that plagued the society.
Her question startled Mr Wimpole. She had never replied to him before, until now. "How dare you?!" He lifted his hand to slap her.
But he stopped when she turned to face the desk. His face flushed with anger, but she remained focused on a letter that had caught her attention. The familiar red seal sent a shiver down her spine.
She picked up the letter, surprised to see it was from someone she had least expected to hear from. Biting her lip anxiously, she left the room without a word to her boss and stepped into the hallway, where she stood by the window, gazing out at the bustling streets of London.
Sighing deeply, she opened the letter, her expression growing drab. "Mother,"
'It is time to return home, Aurora.'