On Plots and Subplots of Human Misery Part V – A Diary of a Broken Dream

by Arnold De Villa
February 16, 2013
Dear Diary,
There is no one else willing to listen to my woes. Although there are others whose daily bread is nothing less than the bitterness of tears, I have not had the chance to party with their misery. They do not know about my pangs in as much as I am ignorant of theirs. More than often, we who live in misery are selfish to our own pains. There is no good to share our tears when there is no one who could know the depth of suffering except for those who truly suffer
More than a week ago, I lost my job. The foreman pulled me by the arm and shoved me through the door all because I dropped a letter. The letter was from the couple taking care of my daughter. They wanted more money because Lynette was sick, because they said that she needed other things and that she did not have good clothes to travel so that she can be with me. One of the other workers saw the letter on the floor. Instead of giving it back to me as normal people would, Gruella read it aloud, other ladies listened, and work was interrupted. It was when I tried to get it back from her that the patron saw the altercation and then told the foreman to help settle things down. The foreman took Gruella and me aside. Gruella was asked to go back to work and I was forced to leave work.
Despite my plea, they did not listen. They assumed it was my fault to end up as a young single mother. Yes, we do have choices and yes we can be smarter, but perhaps they do not know that being young could be one of our biggest mistakes. I was only 16 old when I believed and trusted the beauty and enchantment of sweet emotions. I have never felt as loved and desired as I was when I met Lynette’s father. And since I grew up in a house that is not a home, a place with other girls who never met their mothers or knew their fathers, I was deprived of the normal things that young girls were expected to learn. So I gave in to my feelings, blindly trusting the promises of someone to never leave me nor forsake me.
In my work, maybe like in other places where other women work, there are those who seem to have fun talking about others; those bored and vain ladies, old and young alike who waste so much time meddling into other people’s affairs, judging others, and putting them down. Those who choose not to join in their circle are ostracized and picked on. Sad to say, it was my unlucky turn as there were others ahead of me who suffered a similar plight.
Giving birth to a child with no one else beside me was not easy. The nurses asked for a father’s name and I could not give one. I only responded with the silence of my tears. When it was time for us to leave and I had to bring my baby to my apartment, the landlord wanted me to pay more because he said that his place was only designed for one person. Then he added that it was not good for a young woman to have a baby without a husband. And then he said that it was not good for his business and that I should go somewhere else. So while I was walking around town looking for a place to stay, I remembered an inn whose owners once told me that they were my distant relatives. A long time back, they offered me a room in their inn but I could not afford it. I went back to them again and explained that I needed a place to stay. I told them that my landlord wanted me to pay more, but I have not money to do so. He told me to leave instead. Heinz and Gertrude said that my baby and I could stay with them for the night that we will talk about other things tomorrow. So they accompanied me to my room. And then I thought I heard another baby cry from a room across the hall.
The following day, while at breakfast, Heinz and Gertrude, sat with me to discuss matters. They said that our town is not a good place to raise children. They have a child of their own and that they are actually thinking of moving to another place. They offered to take care of my little Lynette so that I could first move to a bigger city, find a better paying job, save for my future, learn another trade, and then go back for Lynette so that I could provide her with better things. They all said this because they thought that I was still young and that it would be better if I did things by myself first. Later that day, I looked at Lynette one last time. I held her small hand in my hand. She smiled. I cried. She closed her eyes for her usual nap. And then I left.
That was almost six years ago. Every time I tried to get her back, I ran short of money for my fare. I have told Heinz and Gertrude that I have sent them almost everything I worked for and maybe it would be nice if they could bring Lynette to me. They thought it was a good idea, but the moment I start planning on the day that they could bring her, something happens and I find myself sending them more money.
But now I do not have anything to send them. I feel so weak and hungry. I have gone from one business to another seeking for employment, but I guess even big cities are small when it comes to spreading bad news. No one wanted to hire a single mother. They said that I have to be home to take care of my child. They advised me to ask for alms instead or maybe look for another suitable husband.
I cannot do any of those things. I tried to ask for alms from a Church nearby the other day, but the line was long with people who were older than me, who looked needier than I did, and who seemed not so fit to find a job. So I left the long line and now I am starving.
I heard somewhere that I can sell my hair to people who make wigs. My blond and curly locks could fetch a nice sum. I decided to do it than die of starvation. So I cut my locks and with every snap of the scissors on my hair, I felt the pain of seeing my dream clipped inch by inch,
a dream that is killed one strand after another strand.
(to be continued….)