Scarlett

Chapter 3: First impressions

Our taxi stopped in front of a tall building. It was not the tallest in the area. To my surprise, all the buildings in the city were gigantic. Palm Fields never had buildings as sophisticated as these. But I could never deny the beauty it held in its nature, the young trees, the sunset at the lake, the little squirrels in the woods, colourful birds and insects and the azure sky.

Our journey home was not too long. We reached our apartment after a drive of around twenty minutes from the hospital. I watched outside through the window in complete devotion and fascination throughout our drive and fancied the sunlight that touched my face. I wanted to embrace the brightness of the sun that had managed to make me smile.

Hillwood was a crowded city. As we drove through the city, I looked around and noticed people. Everyone looked busy. People were fashionable and sophisticated and a little too indulged in their own selves that nobody took notice of others. The city did not walk, it ran. There were fancy cars all around that shined like gold under the bright sunlight. The pavements were as clear as the glass walls of fancy boutiques. Each passerby was uniquely dressed and adorned with jewelries. I watched the ornate buildings that we passed on our way towards home, that were made with glass walls, covered with plants or in unique shapes. There was no sign of any tree in the closest vicinity. The only group of animals that I noticed outside were dogs out for walks on leashes with their owners. No matter how hard I tried to avoid, I ended up comparing it with Palm Fields. My hometown was charming in its own way. Yes, it did not have tall and fancy buildings or cars, it did not have clean pavements or fashionable people around, but it was lively. It had a life of its own with the green trees all around, loud and chirpy birds, country animals, humble locals, muddy pavements and country roads.

Mum informed me that Hillwood was our new home and it made me feel excited and overwhelmed at the same time. I was in love with the city even though I had not placed a foot out of the car. I was excited to experience the city life.

She told me during our drive that the hospital in Palm Fields had declared that there was no hope for my survival after the accident but Mum and Dad did not give up. They spent all of their savings and transferred me to a well known hospital in Hillwood city where I was taken good care of for fourteen years. I felt a purge of emotion rise within me at the thought. I was grateful for what I had.

Mum parked the car in front of a tall building. I stepped out of the car in excitement. New places always fascinated me. I was even more intrigued because of the fact that it was our permanent home.

A part of my heart broke a while ago when I had expressed my desire to go back to Palm Fields where Mum, Dad and I lived together like a perfectly happy family. But I knew that it was a dream with no hope of fulfilment. During my time at the hospital, Mum and Dad had ended their marriage. For some reason, I was not shocked. Instead, it made sense to me. I recalled innumerable instances when I had heard them scream at each other. Perhaps they assumed that I did not notice. But I noticed everything. I remembered how my parents screamed at each other with their doors locked while I patiently waited for them outside with my dolls and pretended not to hear a word. When they opened the door after the fight, I warmly smiled at them and pretended nothing was wrong. I felt broken at first, when they informed me about the separation. But then they convinced me that they were happier in life, without each other and that they still loved me with all their heart. They tried to convince me that I meant everything to them and I was easily convinced. I always believed everything that was told to me. Perhaps it was my weakness.

Mum was married again to a man she met during a charity event nine years ago. He was Chris Hamilton, a businessman in Hillwood. His company manufactured chocolates, which was a delight for me to know. He often visited me at the hospital. He was tall, around six feet in height, with neatly chopped ginger hair and beard. He had a thick English accent and spoke with warmth and compassion. We had long conversations about the city, his chocolate factory and everything else in general. He even taught me how to use a smart phone, which in my opinion was the best gadget that I had ever come across. We talked a lot, and about almost anything as if to compensate our lost conversations from the previous years.