Doorbell

Just as I am about to close my eyes, to put a full stop to this day, the doorbell echoes in the house. I get up from the bed. Someone’s ringing it continuously, and before I reach out my hand to open the door, the door bell rings once again. Why would someone come this late at night? I open the door by a mere inch and as I see a little hand creeping in, I jump in surprise.

“Open the door, it’s me and mommy.” By the high pitched childish voice, I know it’s Noel behind the door. As I pull the door inside, I see Aunt Sarah pulling her daughter down from ringing the bell once again.

“Noel, you don’t ring the bell once the door is opened.” And then she looks at me with a warm smile, “I am sorry, Avin. She just likes the sound of it maybe. Silly little girl.”

“Mommy!” Noel stomps her feet on the ground, “You called me silly! You promised not to call me that.”

“Please, come in, ‘cute’ Noel.” I bend on my knees as I say to her. Her dark brown pigtails bounce and she smiles wide with her dimples on her cheeks. She’s just five years old. She dances happily as I and Aunt Sarah walk behind her in the hallway.

“It’s all dark, saving up the electricity, huh?” Aunt Sarah nudges me on the shoulder.

I hesitate and switch on all the lights at once. I lead both of them to the drawing room, and while Noel is still dancing around the room, I get up to bring something from the kitchen.

As I empty the juice bottles in two glasses, I feel a hand over my shoulder. I turn around to find Aunt Sarah. Before I lift the tray in my hands, she takes it from me and asks me in her soft voice, “Did you eat something?”

She always has this warm smile that you can never lie to her. “Yes, Aunt Sarah.”

“You’ll still need years and years of practice to lie to me, kid. And just call me ‘Sarah’, I feel like a grandma whenever you add that prefix to my name.” She lifts the tray in her hand, “Now, come. I’ve made something for you.”

The sound of television comes from the drawing room, and Aunt Sarah walks back to the room with the tray in her hand. She has always been sweet to me, very sweet as if I was her own son. Even though she’s just my neighbour, I have always felt her to be the one who cares about me the most. Sometimes, you don’t even ask for love, but someone who care about you compel you to feel that you always need them around you, and maybe it’s true to some extent, because you start believing that that someone will always be there for you. I wash my hands and go to the drawing room.

***

Read the previous parts here:

Colourless Rainbow

Faded Moon

Winter Tree

Dance in the Snowfall

Falling Angel

Stare

Walk under the Stars

Moon’s Wish

Strangers

Staircase