Total Opposites (COMPLETED)

Prologue

"All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small
All things wise and wonderful,
The LORD GOD made them all"

Crying she started to walk away from the crowd. It wasn't her fault but she got beaten up because of a false accusation. They said her parents died because she was a jinx and that it spreads off fast like the previous pandemic, CoVid. A child being born out of her mother for the very reason— her mother had the virus and she survived alone through an operation. 

'Why must I suffer so much?' She always asked, but no one was able to answer her. Her grandmother couldn't see her anymore, and she, her. She couldn't even open her eyes to look at the coffin behind her as she recited her grandma's favourite poem. One her grandma would always tell before she sleeps at night.

"Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings."

She couldn't dare open her eyes. She doesn't want to smudge her make up, she's concealed her skin color perfectly already and her tears would only smudge it up. She looked up to her side to see the bird they used to looked after. It was there, looking straight at her, as if looking into her soul.

This poem, she promised to never forget.  Memorized by memory and cannot be lost even for a century. But this time, she has no one to tell her of the poem. The only person who does— the only person left for her— closed her eyes, never to be opened again.

"The purple-headed mountain,
The rivers running by
The sunsets, and the morning
That brightens up the sky;"

Who would've thought that it could happen. Like a flash of lightning, and she was the thunder who found it extremely hard to adjust and follow. She lost everything. And now she's a complete orphan. She now has no one but herself.

"The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun ,
The ripe fruits in the garden,
He made the, every one."

As she prepared herself to emd the poem, she took a deep breath. This might be the last one she'll be saying, reciting the poem. For she'll keep it to herself from now on. But not forgotten— it's too precious to even forget.

"He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell,
How great is God Almighty
Who has made all things well."

As she opened her eyes, she gave a bitter smile at her grandmother's ern as it was being put into a glass container. She'll miss her hugs and her kisses. And maybe, just maybe, she might find another person to hold her like how she held her.

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Disclaimer:

I do not own the poem.