Oh, there you are...
I was starting to worry you'd never show up and then I'd be left enjoying this mess all by myself.
And really, what good is a narrator without her reader?
You, my dear, are my most loyal partner in crime. You should be honoured.
Right. The story.
After pulling an all-nighter, Bertha is barely holding on. One question into her final exam and the poor girl already looks like she's planning her retirement.
I'm seriously trying to whisper her the answers, but her mind keeps spinning: Is it the right answer?, eat first, make the bed, watch a video, take a vacation…
Honestly, I've lost count of the things going through her head per second.
Doesn't she realize "doing the exams" means on paper, with a pen?
I don't really get this child of mine, looking so peaceful when she fixated her eyes on the question while her head was screaming...
But, she's trying. Especially now that her meds have been cut off.
For security reasons, I'm leaving my sweet, brain-scattered baby at school and taking you back to our favourite little residence on Paradise Street, where the girls were already gathered outside Mrs. Benson's house for water.
And oh, this one is truly a sight to see.
They were like a mob outside Mrs Benson's house.
Now, I'm not one to mock an old soul, but trust me, Mrs. Benson was making perfect sense for someone who endured years of abuse… from her sister's lover. A.k.a. her husband.
Scandalous? Absolutely. Careful with the tea, I brew them hot.
But the girls weren't there for a lecture on home and heartbreak, but some life necessity. The speech? Just an unwanted bonus.
They had only a few containers, so it was a tough sacrifice for those who came to share with those who didn't. A communal effort, if you will.
Flora hated the begging lifestyle, but if MG was okay with it, she was down. She trusted her that much.
Because there had to be more to that house than what meets the eye.
If even she, a girl with nothing and no one to return to, was welcomed, then maybe the house was full of girls like her.
But who would tell her that? MG sure didn't act like she was running a charity foundation.
"What about the others?" asked Aisha, directing the question at MG, partly because she was their landlady, partly because she was the only one who seemed to care.
"They can come by later if it's not enough " MG replied, her eyes drifting to Fiona. Fiona, who was back to her usual act — cool, distant, and composed.
Was she tripping earlier?
"She cried. Why?" asked Lily suddenly, startling MG enough to nearly drop the container in her hand.
"Lily! I swear, someday you're going to kill me!" MG clutched her chest like a drama queen. "And aren't you supposed to be injured? Can you even carry anything?"
Lily just blinked. "She's going to be okay, right?" she asked, like it was the most casual thing in the world.
MG didn't know how to answer. First of all, why did Lily care? And second… why ask her?
Fiona had always been the devil in a sunflower dress to everyone there.
The sharpest thorns in the garden.
"She's going to be fine," Cheryl said instead, her voice warm. "She has us"
And just like that, the four - with Gravel - turned to their long-lost housemate. How long has it been with this one? Four months!
"I hope I didn't miss much," said Cheryl, stepping forward.
Before anyone could speak, Diana ran straight into her arms, hugging her tightly. Nicole winced at the sight.
And why was that okay for Emma to see, but not her holding Nicole's hand in public? Even I used to think girl couples had it easier. Turns out, we're all still learning.
But some questions, even when they're phrased perfectly on paper, still go unanswered.
That's not on language. That's on us.
"I missed you like crazy," Diana whispered, trying to hold back tears. She was one nudge away from falling apart.
She was just glad her life coach was back. The one messed up enough to understand, and still in control enough to guide her.
I love these two, Diana and Cheryl. Two broken girls, helping each other survive the chaos of adult life and their addictions. You don't see that too often nowadays.
"So, tonight's dinner is on me?" Cheryl offered with a lazy smile.
MG lit up instantly. "Diana's cooking, right?" she asked, grinning at her.
Diana blushed, burying her face in the crook of Cheryl's neck as she nodded.
"Let me text Bertha," said Sasha suddenly, her thumbs already typing. "So she doesn't buy food on her way home"
And that's when the rest of them remembered:
Today was the start of Bertha's finals.
You think they don't care? That they're just chaotic girls trying to get by?
Well… maybe.
PS: I heard someone say that life is about surviving, and living? That's just a luxury.
I genuinely hope they're wrong.
Stay happy always,
Mother Nature