A Home for Priscilla

Priscilla couldn't believe her ears when her father told her she was getting married. She was only fifteen and had just finished her high school exams. Graduation was in a few weeks, and she had been planning towards it, just like her twin sister, Pearl. She had dreams, just like every other human on earth. Is this how my life is going to end? she soliloquized as she rolled from one end of the bed to the other.

"Maybe I can talk to Mum. She might listen to me this time," she said as she stood up from the bed. She stretched one leg toward a pair of white slippers that lay neatly just beside the bed. She pushed them on and walked slowly out of her room to the sitting room.

As usual, her dad had Pearl cuddled beside him as they watched her favourite cartoon, Miraculous. She squatted down behind the cushions that were arranged to form a circle around the centre table. She crawled stealthily and managed to slip inside the corridor that led to her parents' bedroom.

She tapped lightly on the door and waited for a response to go in.

"Priscilla, what is it?" her mum yelled from the room, followed by a faint, "Come inside."

She turned the knob and walked slowly towards her mum. Her heart pounded in fear. She was scared her mum would not accept her request, scared she'd be brushed off, like always.

"Mum," she whispered slowly as she sat on the footstool beside the king-size bed.

"I'm listening" her mum said, her eyes fixed on her laptop as her fingers danced above the keyboard hurriedly. Priscilla rarely saw her have fun. She was either away on a business trip or with a laptop. She barely looked at her, never really did. She had grown to accept her that way. A workaholic, her mum was, and not even her own kid could change that.

"Mum, I have something important to discuss with you," she said softly. Her mother nodded, a sign that she was all ears.

“Dad wants to marry me off,” she added.

“Oh. About that. He told me,” her mum said.

“Mum? Did you agree with him?” Priscilla asked. Her eyes itched and welled up with warm tears. She blinked several times to keep them from rolling out.

"You'll be sixteen in a few days, Priscilla. I married your dad when I was eighteen. It's the best thing for you," her mum said, and turned her face away from the laptop to look at her.
"You'll be fine, dear," she said dismissively, and turned back to the laptop.

Warm tears streamed down her cheeks. She had a lot of questions to ask her, to ask her parents if she was really their child. Because as long as she could remember, she had never felt like one. All her life, she had felt ill at ease with her family.

Pearl, her twin sister, captured their dad's heart because she was fair and had eyes like green grass. Her sister grew up to be warm and happy, while she became her reverse, cold, sad, and always on alert.
At age four, she learned to walk faster so she wouldn't miss her dad in the mall. She learned to climb the stairs and avoid people in the walkway while Pearl sat like a priceless doll in his arms.

She realised her place in the family when she was two, on a Saturday morning. Their dad was busy cleaning when she picked up the remote and scrolled to her favourite cartoon, Bluey. Pearl sat beside her sadly, her face bowed as she picked her nails.

"You don't like it?" Priscilla asked. No response.

Just then, her father came, took the remote from her and changed the channel to SpongeBob. Pearl immediately jumped in excitement and hugged their father's legs.

It became very obvious when she wasn't even allowed to wear pink, because it was Pearl's favourite. Her father didn't say much to her, and her mother barely had the time to play with her. Even her twin sister was always occupied. She had a lonely childhood. It was just her and her toys, Stephanie and Coo Coo.

Days passed in silence until, one afternoon, unfamiliar guests arrived at their doorstep. Her suitors.

"This is Mr. and Mrs. Johnsons" her Dad introduced them.

They were his business partners. A middle-aged man and a young woman in her early forties. They had friendly smiles on their lips, just like her parents whenever they were outdoors, only theirs seemed to reach the corners of their eyes. They were both black-skinned, just like her, so she wondered if she should feel comfortable because of that commonness between them.

After exchanging pleasantries, Priscilla realised she might be a second wife to a man who was older than her father.

Every necessary ritual was made, and her bag was packed. Pearl watched her sadly. Her mouth opened to say something, but no words came out. She was speechless and petrified about her sister's marriage.

"Welcome to your new home," said Mr. Johnson and his wife as their face beamed with smiles.

"Thank you," Priscilla managed to say.

"Come here," Mrs. Johnson said as she pulled her into a warm embrace.

"Let's make it clear to her, honey," she said as she caressed Priscilla's hair. Her husband passed his suitcase to a young lady in an apron, then took a seat beside them.

"You're not here to be a wife," Mr. Johnson began.

"I've watched your family closely and noticed the way they treat you. You don't deserve any of that. So I and my wife decided to adopt you," he said.

"But your dad didn't agree. He said he can't send out any of his children for adoption while he's still alive," Mrs. Johnson added.

"So we came up with a plan to marry you instead. It's silly, right? My wife couldn't sleep knowing there's a child out there who is passing through emotional neglect".

"We're sorry. Please," Mrs. Johnson apologised.

"We have two boys. So we want you to be like a daughter to us," they said.

Priscilla was shocked and confused. Her eyes darted from one couple to the other, her mind racing to catch up. Then she heard soft music coming from a corner of the sitting room. Mrs.Johnson took her hands and walked her towards the music.

Priscilla’s eyes opened wide, her mouth parted in stunned wonder at what she saw. Two boys, both older than her, stood in a corridor warmly decorated with pink balloons and ribbons. One of them was playing a violin; the other was holding a huge pink Barbie cake. They were playing and singing to a Welcome Note from Sophie Krust.

She stood in awe, unable to move her legs, as warm tears gathered in her eyes.

As sudden as everything was, she closed her eyes and opened her heart to this new journey. It could be worse, and it could be the beginning of something beautiful. Any of it. She had grown to accept life and go with the flow.

She turned her back and embraced the two adults who were now her parents. Then the boys took turns giving her a warm embrace. Priscilla pinched herself throughout the process, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

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