Chapter 1 – - [A Miraculous Thing] (1/2)

Chapter 1 – [A Miraculous Thing]

Time flies.

It didn’t seem like such a long time ago, but when I looked back, too much time had already gone by.

Looking up, I brushed the image of my face in the mirror and stroked it with my hand.

When I was twenty years old, my face shone with brilliance and youth. But now, the glossy skin had already disappeared and in its place were faint wrinkles and smile lines.

A shameful old woman.

A spinster.

A poor baroness.

Those were all of their labels for me, Bella de Perrington.

In fact, I wasn’t even that old. I was only 38 years old. But in the aristocratic society, where political marriages are frequent, most sexes were already married. And by the time they reached the age of 38, they would’ve also had two or three wailing children.

But for me, there was no one.

I didn’t have a hardworking husband by my side, or children who would play around and light up our home in happiness. I was all alone.

My family is by far the lowest rank among the nobility, and there would be no dowry received if someone got married to me, which was one of the reasons why I was not married yet.

But even if you put aside my family rank and the lack of a dowry, I was still considered too old.

A 38 year old woman like me would no longer be considered beautiful or youthful. In the eyes of society, I was a failure as a woman.

There was no man who would want someone like this.

Perhaps everything could’ve been traced back to when my mother had looked at me blankly and with confusion as she asked, “Who are you?”

My mother looked around in confusion, “Where am I? Whose house is this?”

The shock and horror the first time I heard those questions would forever be ingrained in my memory.

The doctor examined my mother and defined the symptoms word by word.

It was called ‘dementia’.

Gradually, her memories would fade. She wouldn’t be able to recognize people around her and would eventually forget about everything they did as well.

At the time, my two older sisters had already married and had already left our home. Naturally, the responsibility to take care of my mother rested on me, the only unmarried sister.

And soon enough, two years had passed like that.

Even though my mother still had a healthy body, her mental state and memory had gotten worse with each progressing day.

However, while I was still taking care of my mother, an unexpected issue occurred when I learned that our family had insufficient funds.

When I was young, my father, the baron, had died, leaving my mother as the only authority in the home. She had three daughters, including me. Even though my mother was still alive and had the title of the baroness, it was uncertain what would happen to our family name since there were no successors in our household.

As my mother was still alive, she was able to maintain her title as the baroness, but it had been uncertain what would happen to the title as she didn’t have a successor.

So I had no choice but to fire all the remaining employees in the house and take over all the household affairs myself to save money. The future was unknown since our family did not have a successor, so there was no need to keep servants and the home in its best condition if we would not be sure who the inheritance would go to anyways.

However, the things I could do in the house were limited because I couldn’t take my eyes off my mother for too long, in fear of her hurting herself, or something worse.

Fortunately, my sisters helped me with my living expenses little by little, but in the end what they gave me was still only a little.

No one else could help me because they had their own families and welfare to take care of. They couldn’t afford to help my mother and I when they also had things to tend to. So before I knew it, my mother’s illness was under my management not only physically and emotionally, but also financially.

And so, twenty years passed in the same manner.

By now, I am already 38 years old.

Not long ago, when my mother was laughing and painting childish drawings on the wall, I had completely collapsed. I sat on the floor and my eyes began to fill with tears.

I had enough.

Because of all the hardships I had gone through, and all the sacrifices I had made by taking care of my mother for years, I had begun to resent her. I had wished that she would just disappear someday. The amount of nights in bed I’ve spent resenting my mother was innumerable.

It was so overwhelming to constantly be with her and take care of her that it got to the point that I had the urge to just die along with my mother. It was unfair that everyday I had to take care of her, while she would forget about me and never appreciate my efforts or my work.

Perhaps because of all the bad thoughts I had then, I still remember the calm face, free of worries and hardships, when she finally passed away.

All of which led up to today. The day of my mother’s funeral.

I stood around and stroked the reflection of myself in the mirror with my hand.

There I saw a woman in her thirties, who, even though was wearing plain black dress, still gave off an air of maturity.

She had silver hair, pale white skin, and clear blue eyes. Her face had fine features, but they still couldn’t escape the traces of time.

What I saw was a chaste-looking 30 something woman. Nothing more or less.

Yet, somehow, I still felt awkward about myself today.

In fact, I wasn’t used to the quietness of the house. Years before, it had bustled with some life with all of the servants. Even when it was just my mother and I, the house still had a lively feeling. But now it’s seemed so lonely and desolate.

It hurt me to be in there.

Drop-

A tear fell before I even knew it.

The moment my mother died and was no longer there like I wished, I really felt like there was nothing left for me to do. I no longer felt like I had a purpose to live.

I thought everything would be better if my mother disappeared, but it wasn’t like that after all.

There was no turning back all of the years I had spent with my mother anyways. What was done was done. Nothing was really different about my life, just that I could no longer see my mother that had always stuck around me like a friend or a child.

There was truly nothing to do without her.

I let out a small sob.

“I’m sorry mom.”

I’m sorry I didn’t treat you better.

I’m sorry I didn’t do better.

I’m sorry that you had a daughter like me.

No matter how hard it was, I should have laughed a little more instead of getting annoyed.

I should have enjoyed the lively moments with my mother instead of sitting there in dreadful anticipation of all the work I would need to do to clean up after her.

Drop, drop, drop.

More tears followed down my face.

I had always thought that by getting rid of my mother, I would be free of the heavy burden I had had for years, but at this moment I wasn’t happy or relieved that the burden had disappeared. It felt weird and funny.

I felt as if I was abandoned.

***

The funeral was held in a formal manner.

Relatives dressed neatly in black gathered together, and a coffin that contained my mother’s body laid peacefully in her casket as she was lowered down into her grave.

I could hear the occasional sobbing from all sides, but I couldn’t cry. I just stared blankly at my mother’s grave.

While I was standing there reminiscing our moments together, the funeral attendees began to leave one by one, until only my two sisters remained.

“Bella.”

When I turned my head to the voice calling me, I saw the face of my sister, Medina.

Medina was my eldest sister, a plump middle aged woman with two grown sons.

“Now that the funeral is done, let’s go home and finish all of the things we need to do for our mother.”

My second sister, Claire, spoke up next, “Yes, we need to talk about what we are going to do next.”

Unlike my sister Medina, Claire was skinny and lean. She, too, was a middle-aged woman with a grown child.

I answered with a slight nod.

***

When we arrived at the house where my mother and I had stayed, both of their husbands were already gathered there before we arrived.

I greeted them kindly with, “Hello, how have you all been?”

Medina’s husband, Miles, was a viscount, while Claire’s husband, Denver, was a baron.

Between the two, Miles answered first with a slight pretentious smile.

“Long time no see.”

With a hard look on his face, Denver said, “For now, you should sit.”

He pointed his chin at a chair nearby.

I sat down in the chair that Denver pointed at.