serendipity

Amoret was patient, almost too patient.

The fear of being caught and punished for sneaking around, for she was already way too close to the stairs and closer than she had ever been before in her adult years to the front door, had been long imprinted into her brain. She had created an extensive mental map years ago, one that marked off the areas she wasn't allowed to go near. And, the risk of breaking her mama's trust again was far too high. Yet, as she stepped towards the stairs, her mind had started to declutter as the fresh air from the main floor of the house was rapidly travelling towards her, wrapping around her undiscovered form until her room felt as though it had its very own window.

Privately, and for the first time ever, she felt as though she was completely free.

Pleasantly surprised, she spent the rest of the day sitting and watching the entrance to her bedroom, thinking that this was a long-awaited present from her mama, or maybe even her papa. She cherished each breath that she took in of the crisp, new scent, and even started a habit of unconsciously wiggling her fingers to feel the course of air fly smoothly between them. She envisioned the gust as a hug from her mother, one that she so longed for, yet barely received as her mother would always complain that the act rustled up the fronts of her dresses. Only if her mother was in her nightgown would she be able to embrace her. If she was lucky, she would get one at least four times a week. And, her father? Not anymore.

Although Amoret was relatively enjoying her time, basking in the sudden open concept design, she had begun to feel rather bewildered.

"Mama?" She finally called out once she grew tired of all the waiting, confusion coating her words as she didn't quite understand what was behind her nearly brand new view. Now, the toes of her feet were merely a handful of inches away from the steps as she lightly touched the indented wood with her hand, the marks were ones her mother spent the last twenty-two years forming. Her voice was as inquisitive as ever. "I've had my nightgown on all day. I didn't know if you were waiting to pick something out for me?"

To test her theory, she shuffled over to her large closet where she swung open the doors with much enthusiasm, yet appeared to struggle and push with all her might, a task that many would easily excel in without producing a single thought. Her hand ran along expensive fabrics, handsewn hems and pompous designs. "Maybe this-" Amoret pulled out a purple gown that crushed her ribs and puffed out at her hips, fashioning her to appear to be the shape of a pear. She looked up expectantly, "-Maybe not."

"Or-" she shoved her first choice back in and plucked another from her collection, this time a contrasting shade. Yellow; dull in the darkness of the room. The top was cut into slightly curved triangles which fit flat against her chest, and the bottom fell straight down with a unique slit that revealed her glass-like leg if she chose to poke it out. Again, she looked towards the stairs with hope evident in her eyes, "-Or, not."

"Oh, how about the newest one! What do you think of this one, Mama?" Amoret asked, remembering it with a delighted gasp. Realistically speaking, she was communicating with no one, but she drew yet another choice anyway, which was a pastel pink dress. At that time, the only other instance of her wearing that particular dress was when it was first tried on to get her measurements done by her mother, to see what was needed for that specific attire, to figure out what she wanted to be loosened and what she wanted to be tightened. Unfortunately, Amoret's opinion did not matter, and her mother was the one to decide what needed to be tweaked.

Nevertheless, Amoret pulled it on with eagerness, lifting the fabric over her legs and sliding her arms through the holes. She did not need to worry about the hassle of doing up the back, for practice had long perfected the act. As she felt her body succumb to the design, she lifted her head to gaze into the full-length mirror, and she immediately fell in love. It could have been the sleeves, how they showed off her shoulders and hid her skinny arms beneath a see-through, light layer of fabric so enchantingly. Or, maybe it was the crimped texture covering her bust that stole the show. Perhaps, it might have even been the way the layered fabric cascaded just over her ankles, giving it a flowy look that she adored.

Amoret stared at the familiar woman in the mirror, recognizing the tiny nose and the slightly downturned eyes that appeared freakishly large against the thinness of her face. Her angel lashes fanning her apple cheeks in response.

The yellow stain of the glass brightened the paleness of her skin.

This was the first time she had picked out her own outfit without parental supervision, and she considered the process to be odd as she had always believed that her mother was the best when it came to appearances. Upon reflecting on this information, she found herself unable to figure out why she was so captivated, but what she did know was that she felt good.

Instantly, a thought crossed her mind, she had to show her mother.

The distractions made her forget.

Amoret, too enamoured to recognize the oncoming jeopardy, tiptoed up the old stairs that squealed harshly under the foreign pressure. She let her natural instinct guide the way, for she was forced to spend most of her time listening to the movements from above and she unavoidably memorized their patterns, she knew her way around the rest of the house without ever exploring it. The extra length from the back of the dress followed behind her as it glided across the pitted floor. The more area she gained, the louder she became as she repeated melodiously, "Mama? Oh, Mama? Come out!"

Amoret took one last step forward and heaved her frail body up through the perimeter of the trapdoor. As she exited, she felt as though she was being hauled back by a strong current, and as she broke through the barrier, the suction exploded in an array of emotions; ranging from dread to fervid. She was officially standing above the room she spent her entire life bottled up in, and as she gawked at the newly discovered space, she unknowingly realized that there is so much more to the world than the very four walls that her mother claimed to be her sanctuary.

She felt it deep in her heart, whether she was ready to admit it or not. The minor mechanical malfunction of the trap door unlocking was a stroke of serendipity; one that would change life as she knew it.

Amoret took everything in the same way an ocean would; entirely and endlessly. Gradually, she dragged her bare feet towards the distinctly handmade wooden table that was decorated with a spotless layer of white cloth, dressed in pristine dishes that equalled the four surrounding chairs, and had been beautified with a vase that was packed with an abundance of stunning flowers; all differing in shades of pink blush. And, to the left of her was an organized kitchen, the craftsmanship of the cupboards was flawless, as Amoret's father had designed and built them himself. She knew this, as the matching furniture in her bedroom was fervently made by him, also. There was no doubt that they would be in the same shape if they were as nurtured as the ones upstairs.

But, they weren't. Instead, they were falling apart with each passing day.

Amoret frowned at the thought. However, as soon as she spotted a door resting in the wall directly in front of her, she no longer cared about the outstandingly clean kitchen or the dining table with two extra spots. Albeit, it was an extra spot that she longed to take up, as either one of the two would have been perfect. She believed herself when she claimed not to be picky. And, she really wasn't. Never had been. Although, she never got the chance to be, either.

The door was somewhat cracked open, barely noticeable, yet it called out to her like a screaming banshee. Her body took it as fuel and edged itself towards the door, the nonexistent sound emitting from it was not scaring her away but rather enticing her forward.

This part of the house was not on her map.

Amoret felt as though her heart was beating a mile a minute, as if it was getting ready to leap out of her small chest and soar through the air like an eagle, possibly aiming for the door. She couldn't explain the feeling, and if she tried then she would surely fail in properly conveying it. The only thing she knew for sure was that it had formed deep in her gut. The overwhelming feeling didn't cease as she took another brave step in front of her, just close enough to place her hand on the door.

Ever so lightly, and deliberately, she began pushing on it until an untouched bedroom was revealed. The bed was without a single crease in the blankets, the common decor was without personal objects, and the only mirror in there was without a person. Amoret stood still.

It was pure mágoa.

Her jaw dropped as she frantically twisted her head, her vision now fairly blurry as an ache had grown in her chest and a lump had developed in her throat. The vexatious voice of her mother sprang from the back of her mind, and though it was not real, it certainly did feel true. 'Amoret! Do you see what you have done? And, to cry at your own mistake? You were not raised to act like this; to act as a foolish child. You have hurt your own feelings. This is precisely why your room is downstairs!'

"I know, Mama, I know," Amoret blubbered.

The view was splitting her heart in two. A spare chair and a spare room, yet all she had was a separated basement. She turned, originally an effort to get away from the disturbing news, only to find herself staring down a short hallway, one that was progressing straight into the entrance of another bedroom. From that distance, she could make out the used blankets that were still properly overlaying the bed, a closet with a slight rift in it to allow for a bright fabric to spill out, and a pair of shoes that were sitting at the end of the footboard. This was clearly the room occupied by her parents.

Amoret glanced back to the rather empty room and became even more distraught at seeing how nearby she could have been to her parents, to her mama and to her papa. She tried to move away from the distressing scene, but her legs were about ready to give up underneath her, and she clumsily tripped over her own two feet as she stumbled backwards. While her lower body seemed to move on its own, the bones of her wrists were wiping away at her dripping eyes.

She didn't have the courage to look back to where she had originally emerged from; to look back to her confined bedroom.

Alternatively, she peered at what she would soon realize to be the persuasive front door that she was forbidden to touch. Amoret did not understand what that door would lead to, but as she studied it with her tearful eyes, she noted that it was slightly larger and not shaped the same way as the other ones were. As she hesitantly moved towards it, her hand started to shake uncontrollably as she reached towards the many silver locks. The one at the top clicked loudly as she unhitched it. She went onto the others, each one echoing with a distinct noise.

Click. Click. Click.

"Just this once," She vowed as she wearily pulled the door open, reluctant to continue, but the outside embraced her so lovingly that she couldn't stop. "Only for a quick look."

To Amoret, she did the unthinkable. To everyone else, she did something that many people would do throughout an average day, an average week, an average month, and frankly, an average life.

She left her home.

W O R D C O U N T : 2170

hello!

Just so you all know, this question is definitely going to be a regular thing! So, what's a unique word that you think sounds or looks interesting?

Mine is mágoa.

metalskyline - Serendipity,
the faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for.