I saw him first when I was at an auction. He had come there with his father’s boss.
His father’s boss was a good friend of my uncle’s and my uncle knew the boy well.
Soon my uncle took the boy’s father to work for him, so the boy came to my uncles’ house too.
My parents and I always went to our uncles’ house for the vacation. He was the only sibling my mother had.
So one day when I saw the boy, I smiled at him and he smiled back.
I didn’t think about what would happen afterwards and what anyone else would think about it.
I just wanted to be his friend and talk with him.
The next day the boy came to my uncles’ house again and I smiled with him.
As time past by, my Uncle would send stuff to us through the boy.
My Uncle didn’t know that I smiled with him.
The boy would bring the stuff to us and sometimes I would manage to smile with him.
One day my uncle sent a big bag of groceries through him to us and my mother took it. The boy had come with his friend to give it to us.
While his friend gave the bag to my mother, I smiled with him.
Every time he and his friends played soccer, I would look out of my balcony. Not that I loved soccer, just that I wanted to see the boy.
And when he saw me, he would smile at me and I would too.
His friends knew about us. But what was there to know?
I smiled with him, he smiled with me, we didn’t know each other’s names or eachother, and that was it.
Could it have been love?
I thought about it.
What would my family say if I loved him?
I imagined myself, a mother of his child and he was my husband. We were on the train. My uncle was there and he was scolding me for going against our family.
I was ashamed. I would never do that. I could never love him.
My parents would never approve because of two reasons,
1:He was my uncles’ servants’ son.
2:He was from another religion.
One day my uncle brought in some new furniture and my leg was hurt.
My mother told me to stay in the room and she went to help my uncle.
They had to pass our room to where the furniture should be placed.
So every time the boy went past our room, I would smile with him and he passed our room a lot.
Sometimes he carries the lightest thing, such a stool to just get a chance to smile with me.
I was overwhelmed with his sweet nature, he had the most handsome, and cute face, his smile was breath taking and most of all I felt as if I was in another world when he smiled with me.
He kept me on the top of the world but I had to fall.
He passed our room so frequently that I couldn’t concentrate on my sewing and often pricked my hand trying to smile at him.
So one time I smiled with him when he went to keep a chair and when he was going to get another one, I was busy with my sewing.
I felt him look at me but I didn’t think that if I didn’t smile it would hurt him so much.
After that I waited until he passed our room again but he didn’t.
He had gone home. Without his father. He had just gone.
From that day on, I never saw him and day by day I grew sadder.
I felt guilty that I made him miserable.
I was afraid he’d done something to himself.
I grew sadder and scared day by day.
I thought his friends would come crashing into our house and scold me if he was growing miserable or if he had done something to himself.
But I never saw him again.
What do you think happened to him?
I know he didn’t die. I can feel it and I’m glad he’s alive.
I JUST WISH I’D SMILED WITH HIM THAT DAY.
BUT MAYBE IT’S GOOD THAT I DIDN’T SMILE WITH HIM, WHAT IF THINGS WOULD GET WORSE IF I SMILED WITH HIM?
THE PAST IS PAST, LET’S THINK OF THE FUTURE AND BE GLAD FOR WHAT WE ALREADY DID.
WHO KNOWS WHAT PROBLEMS, THE OTHER OPTIONS HAD.
THE END (I GUESS.)