Her Flaws

Chapter 15

“Come!” he said excitedly. “Sit here.”
There was a couple of chairs and two telescopes.
“Have you ever looked at the constellations?” he asked.
“May be when I was at school.”
“Here.” he offered me a hand, “have a look!”
I didn't take his hand but sat beside him and looked upon the constellations. It looked so beautiful and fun.
We talked about our stars and constellations and seasons and galaxies and planets. I'm a fond of such discussions.
“So you're a Scorpio, I see.” I said.
“I don't know much about constellations. I just look at them and feel good. My mom used to show them to me when I was young.” he said, “Does Taurus lies near Scorpio? I need some nuts and bolts...”
“Well, I don't know it enough either. But your constellation can be best seen during high summers. And mine, that is Taurus can be seen in January.”
And we kept talking until I sneezed. I had caught a cold. Already the problems weren't enough that the cold came for me too. Ah. This is so annoying.
“See, you caught a cold. Don't stay out after sunset. Let's go to sleep now.”
I had a very nice time and I enjoyed it. I went to bed for a better sleep. I again thought about the incredulous and unexpected events that occurred to my life recently. I fell asleep, I don't know when. Next morning, I woke up in high perplexity, all sweaty and heavily breathing. I had a terrible nightmare. I was standing alone in a desert but I was being pulled by the permafrost below my feet. My hands were all bloody and I was standing thoughtless and expressionless. I wasn't even struggling to help myself, though my feet were all cold and numb. I had woken up in a terrible state. I was so frightened that I was shivering. I started crying thinking about how petty I was to my dad and how he made me a juvenile delinquent.
“Madam? Is everything alright?” a voice came, and someone was knocking on the door, “Open the door, are you okay?”
I opened the door without a thought. There was the sweeper, the receptionist and the curly haired man. They all seemed worried and came into my room. The old aged crone, that sweeper lady held my hands and checked upon everything.
“What happened...? I'm fine.” I asked in confusion.
“You rang the emergency bell a minute ago.” receptionist replied.
I felt so awkward and embarrassed. But I was all sweaty and anyone could see that a person can not sweat normally at this rate in the last week of November. That curly haired man asked the receptionist to send nurse Maricar along with the blood pressure apparatus. So receptionist and sweeper both went out. I sat on the chair and held my head. I had a slight headache.
“Do you have a low blood pressure?” he asked putting a hand on my shoulder.
“I guess so.”
For a moment I felt like I became limelight, and that was definitely not something in my favour. I did not want to give an inkling of anything at any cost.
Later on, Maricar came and checked my blood pressure, it was actually low. She had already brought some juice with her for me. I drank the juice and felt better.
“Damn, who put these roses there in the vase? I told them, I prefer daffodils and sunflowers and every other flower!”
“Are you allergic?”
I nodded. Just as I nodded, that man who looked like he could never raise his volume and suddenly roared like he would cause an earthquake.
“Linda! I've told you a thousand times to take care of what flowers guests prefer!” he yelled as if something terrible had happened, and he went downstairs to talk to the receptionist. I realised I had that nightmare because of roses beside me. You know, smells while sleeping, influence dreams greatly. And that's what roses do to me. I was feeling more exhausted now.
“Let's go down, have breakfast with me.” he came up and invited me. I brushed my teeth and washed my face, changed into the other pair of clothes I had and went for the breakfast. There were already three people in the lounge this time. I sat in the lounge. Other people were already having meals or reading newspaper.
“Hey, come inside.” he took his head out of that office door and said rather in a whispering way. Those people didn't pay attention. I went inside the office. It was warm and nice. There was a label of the owner’s name and his table was so well organised. He offered me to sit on the couch. He brought a tray having toasts and butter and jam, a cup of coffee and a cup of herbal tea. He put the tray on the table in front of the couch and sat beside me.
“Have a good meal, miss.”
The name of the owner of the guest house made me a little uncomfortable. But I didn't pay attention to it.
Days passed by, nothing changed. I lamented over all my crimes and every second day, every new morning: became a punishment for me. I felt like nothing more than a pushover. My hopes were now predominated by guilt. Guilt of not being a good daughter, or may be not being a good human being at least. At times, I even felt like I've been blaming my father for my own errors and wrongdoings.