Chapter 15:Untruthful Written Poem on a Never-Ending Love Train [Part III]
Relief substantiated emotion contradicted by the distress of a cause, Strella's mother arrived at her loving home exhausted after a long day in the royal's place.
"Mama! Welcome back. I made dinner, let's eat" hugging her mother enthusiastically with a smile.
" Ah thank you, Strella. Did you prepare this special dish only for Mama? Wow, thank you, dear" developing a grateful smile while patting her head smoothly with happy yet stressful eyes.
"Mama, is there something wrong? You seem to be more stressed than usual." curiosity stands behind Strella as she questioned her mother.
"You know dear, life is similar to a butterfly.
Starting from the point of being a worm crawling up to the heights of mountainous trees and bushes to strive for leaves and also to hide from the predator, transitioning into the preparation of entering the cocoon for a more ambitious path to achieve, into a full bloom butterfly in just a month or a half. To humans, as our nature of birth might suppress our heavenly limitless needs and dream, we endure the path of counter and uncounterable problems in our daily lives for the sake of reason. We know that someday, this greater problem would conclude into a much higher result that will satisfy us in the end. That's why you must be strong in every difficulty you face, move forward, and chase what you want. Even the fate is not favorable, choose to defy it."
"Mhmm" happily nodded in agreement Strella.
Into the bloom of their appetite of having a feast with mushroom soup of little pork served prepared by Strella and a loaf of bread sliced.
Subsequently ate their dinner and washed their dishes, Strella in preparation to take a full eight-hour rest into her bed.
Her mother, with the eyes traveling far west into the shadows of the realm, had an instinctive prediction of a shady future beheld by the cause even she feared.
"Strella, it truly makes sense for life to be the butterfly of this shady sense of time.
Similar to the butterfly, with a limited span after metamorphosis, happiness in life satisfying until it withered away" ostensibly down to disquieting heights said in mind mother of Strella.
As Vincento leaves from the outskirts part of the city where the fortune teller is located, hysterical yet inducing calm laughs consume the air at the place. Presenting a nerve-wracking smile seemingly got devoured into a successful mission, dived into the alluring sense of vengeance, tasted the bittersweet meaningful conclusion of her life-retaliated sequence distinctively acclaimed idealogy In the discriminative world.
"Royals, birth with a golden spoon in their mouth, guided by the light of fate towards a throne of supremacist, above the wheel of false equality. Controlled by the system, justice is strength, dragging peasants down to a pleasant fallacy of reality. This is what you deserve damn young bastard. So trusting yet so much releasing hypocrite aura in my presence."
As she releases her wrath toward the royal, were directed into Vincento causing her to tamper with his original fortune and to tell the opposite which will lead Vincento to an unsuccessful life, the tears in her eyes started to fall remembering her son.
"James, I miss you, my son. The day when you decided to embark and start a business of selling antiques that you've inherited from your father because of in need of money. I always thought it's been going smoothly, you're living happily with your family in the city running your business as a normal man should be. But earlier, afternoon, the crystal magical ball that our family owns passes me a piece of news regarding your current status.
You've been suffering didn't you, an image of you being beaten by royal brats has been delivered to our inherited crystal ball. A crystal ball that should be functioning as a fortune deciphering tool by the owners and yet works out for the first time since created as a storm with wings that dived through calamity only with a purpose of pessimism."
"Are the royals only one hugged by fortune? And naturally not affected by such a crisis? The driving natural biases towards the throne holder, the epitome of hierarchy. Many years had passed since the Great Era of Golden Harvest, concluding to a truth bound by the foolish hell of the ungifted and the sources of joy and eternal life, the heaven of the grant, we are now seeing. This is indeed the reality, not a gaseous delusion nor rigid illusion. We are all human but from the face of reality, it's simply unpleasant. I...I'm becoming older. Morrio, I'll finally see you on the other side." discriminatively driven sadness escorts Old lady fortune-teller to jumping into a near cliff ending her life.
A night has peacefully passed, erased the nearing nightmares temporarily, Strella woke up from her old yet still useful bed with a messy bedhead.
Seeing her mother with tedious vibes as she energetically greets her. "Good morning Mama!"
" Good morning Strella, we need to attend a gathering. Prepare your clean formal clothes."
TO BE CONTINUED.