"NEVER TRUST ANYONE, BECAUSE EVEN THE DEVIL WAS ONCE AN ANGEL."
- UNKNOWN
'HER EYES ARE UNUSUALLY red,' I thought when I saw her up close. She brushes my blonde hair with her fingers. Her skin feels ice-cold when it accidentally touches my ears, making me shiver.
"Mary Jane," she cries softly. Her arms wrap around my frame. A tropical, spicy scent lingers when she comes closer. I also realize that even her scent is uncommon yet captivating.
She looks at me intensely. My whole body becomes stiff. I find her crimson eyes unsettling. "I am very sorry, my child, I shouldn't have abandoned you." She mutters.
My biological mother's proximity allows me to take note of her beautiful appearance. She has long, wavy chestnut hair flowing gracefully under her emerald hat. Her skin is glass-like and healthy-looking. If I were unaware of her whereabouts, I would've mistaken her as the same age as I am. Her waistline is ideal; she has this hourglass figure that some women dream of. Her physique matches her expensive-looking green dress. Her beauty is divine. But what sets it off is her intense crimson eyes.
Sister Margaret couldn't help but sniff amidst her bawling. She's the most soft-hearted among all of the nuns here at the Foster Care. Her eyes are full of tears and adoration. But deep inside, despite the sudden appearance of my biological mum, I feel nothing. An apprehensive instinct of mine tells me that my so-called 'mother' is odd.
Sister Margaret sniffs the load off her nose. "Are you taking Mary with you today, Lady Devana?" She asks.
My mother, Lady Devana, gives me a look that shows delight and excitement. She nods her head before taking a step back. "Yes, I will take her with me. I will also come back next week to arrange the paperwork."
"I understand. But perhaps you might want to let Mary Jane bid a farewell to her foster family before going?" Sister Margaret suggests.
Lady Devana glances at me. I can see that she's having second thoughts before she finally agrees. "Alright then, I'll just wait inside of the car."
Her cold hands cup my cheeks, mouthing an 'I'll wait' before making her way out of Foster Care.
When my biological mum is out of sight, I glance at Sister Margaret. She gives me a reassuring look, encouraging me to share my thoughts. "Sister Margaret, I," I fumble. "I am frightened. She appears to be mischievous,"
"Mary Jane," Sister Margaret reprimands. "She is your mum; do not call your mother mischievous, for it is against the teachings of our Lord and our values."
I bite my tongue, deciding to just hold my opinions; Sister Margaret will never understand how I felt the moment I saw my 'mum'— the way that lady's crimson eyes burn holes as it stares unsettles me. It is odd. And terrifying.
I finally bid farewell to the other foster kids I grew up with. They all wish the greatest of luck for me, giving me charms and prayer booklets, which I accept gratefully. The other foster children gave me several sweets and their little congratulations, saying my mother had already found me.
"Mary Jane, I am quite jealous of you, to be honest, because you already have a mum." One of the foster kids admits.
'I have a mum all along, but she just left me for a moment, for God knows what.'
I wanted to say it, but I didn't dare.
When I am finished saying farewells to my foster family, I finally pack all the necessities; it only consists of three to five clothes that look severely tattered because rats keep consuming them. A hair-comb, which looks like a teether to canines. Three pairs of stretch-out socks. A pair of sandals that are given by the foster nuns. And my silver crucifix necklace.
YOU ARE READING
The Seventh Deadly Sin
Paranormal"Are you afraid of demons?" "I spurn them," "Then, why are you here? In a school where devils raise their children." Mary Jane Heathers grew up in a Christian Foster Care, she was raised with prayers and sacraments. She almost dreamed of becoming...
