Page 10 of Eyes Like Angel
The older woman looked up at my direction with disinterest. “Go and get to work,” Sister Joanne said to mesharply, weary eyes narrowing at me, before turning her body back from me, reading off of her bright screen on her phone.
***
Thanksgiving feast has begun, and I stood on the sidelines with an empty stomach and a dizzying head and prickling fingers. They passed the food to each other, after praising and praying the Lord to a special holiday dinner.
As my hands coiled altogether, numbing fingernails lanced against the velvet material as I overheard them laughing with pure joy, tasting tonight’s Thanksgiving banquet.
My stomach growled, and I am hungry.
Deeply hungry.
My mind was dizzy and I need food. My wants and needs.
My will to live.
Meanwhile, the Divine family’s canine, a black fur Rottweiler roamed around under the table, begging for food. And it was given to the canine.
While they were talking about their life at work, I spotted an elaborated family portrait right behind the young couple, and examined their features, posed in pride and in elegance. Other portraits and family picture in the frames displayed nearby, framed on the wall, darting at their joyous faces. The only picture that I was in was a glass shattered over my face on the far corner.
It looked much better, Sister Jane commented once.
My hunger was searing in. So I took one slice of ham, and I ate it. Whenever they faced me, I must remain as a statue, without any food stuffed in my mouth. I relaxed my cheeks, hoping they wouldn’t notice. My hunger asked for more, and so I ate another tiny, thin slice and stuffed it again.
Everyone was happyand I was miserable.
When the dishes are about to be in next, I gathered the plates as the family ignored my existence, except for Sister Jane’s eyes rolling at me and scooting far with repulse. Not once Sister Jane spots me kindly, always away or anywhere but my face. I snagged the dishes away and to be placed in the kitchen sink, using slight cold water to drench in with dishwashing soap, liquefied and placed on a sponge, scrubbing it in, but my hunger insisted on having the slices of ham.
As the family is distracted with their new gifts, I snuck over the kitchen counter and snuck in for another slice—
Accidentally, I broke Sister Jane’s favorite mug and the plateful of honeyed-ham fell on the floor.
Realizing my mistake, I cleaned up the mess, but it’s already too late. Brother Josh saw it all.
He stepped on a shattered dish.
“What the hell are you doing?” he said, interrogating me.
“I was cleaning, sir—”
“Stupid bitch,” he began. “Don’t you realize how much danger you’re going to put on all of us, even the dog?”
“Wow, you’re so fucking pathetic,” Sister Jane, who once not look at my direction, but looks at me with disdain when I messed up.
I hoisted myself, gathering the shattered pieces. “I’m sorry; I’ll clean it up—”
He smacked me across the face, leaving a purple bruise on my head as he turned his head back and screamed, “Mama Joanne, I caught her stealing our food!”
Sister Jane, once again, pretended not to look at me and is interested on the kitchen ceiling with a tap on her shoe and arms folded on her chest.
Oh, no!
Sister Joanne, with her fiery-colored hair, lunged towards me with an attack.
“You fucking demon,” she screeched, she slapped me and pushed me across the kitchen counter; several food fell and clashed onto the floor!”
Then she took me by the hair scalp underneath my coif, and dragged me across the floor, and hoisted me up to gather my arm and pinned it on counter.
“This must be punished accordingly. This is for your own good,” she wailed, having my arm taken and pinned my arm down at another counter and have the heel slapped on me.
