I stood motionless and looked at the solid, dark brown wooden door.

The house
was painted white, and black on the wooden beams and window panes. It looked
huge and expensive from the outside. I had to make my mind up whether to
knock or press the bell. I turned to face the garden. I thought about going back to
my car and drove home. Home. That was where I wanted to be; or was it where I
would be after I knocked the door? I sighed and walked to the side where there
was a wooden bench by the beautiful garden. I could see that the woman in the
family loved the garden. The smell of white lilies reminded me of the florist down
the road on Sixteenth Street. I sat on the sturdy looking wooden bench, trying to
figure out what I would say if someone was to open the door. I wished I did not
find out where she was so that I would not have three sleepless nights thinking of
why she left me, whether she was looking for me or whether I should be angry.
I was abandoned at Bliss Home when I was barely four. They said they found me
playing joyfully in the playground, innocently thinking that I was sent to school.
After three years, I found out that my mother left me at the orphanage because
she had to go and find my father who left us when I was two. I was devastated,
knowing that my mother left me to strangers. Funny, I thought, how manipulative
and contradictory adults could be when it comes to giving advice. Those at Bliss
Home took good care of me and made me realise that I was still lucky to be able
to enjoy life. Sister Lisa was one of those who managed to make me see that I
should make the most of myself than being miserable, grieving my unfortunate
life; thinking nobody loved me. I stayed there till I was 12, when I was then
transferred to Rouston Public School. Well, Sister Lisa thought it was a good
school. Spurred by Sister Lisas determination to give me life, I did my best in
Rouston and would go back to Bliss Home during semester breaks or Christmas
to be part of the family. Well, I was not sure whether I knew the meaning of that
word, but Sister Lisa convinced me that I was part of them when my presence
was usually welcomed by freshly baked apple pie and mince meat. Then we
would all sit in our warm huge and rather aromatic dining hall. I could still smell
Marthas mouth-watering Yorkshire pudding and roast beef in the kitchen
whenever I visited Bliss Home.
It was 8 years ago when I started digging files and tailing endless documents to
find out who my biological parents were. Blessed, I found where my mother lived
but was reluctant to go and see her. I knew it would shake her down to her knees
and she would beg forgiveness for leaving me; that she was young and naive;
that she would not have managed looking after me on her own. Even worst, my
presence would stop her heart; that she would collapse unconsciously, leaving
me feeling guilty instead. Sister Lisa was the one who insisted. At the end of the
year, I eventually gave in but forbade her from calling Mom to inform that I was
coming; in case I changed my mind. She gladly agreed and even packed me
cheese and tomato sandwiches for the journey. I was skeptical when she said
that Mom would be waiting for me. If mom knew where I was, why didnt she
come and find me?
My thoughts were interrupted by a butterfly flying right in front of my nose. I

looked back at the house to see if anyone noticed my presence. Silence. I

glanced at my watch but I forgot what time I arrived, so I did not know how long I
was there. I stood up and walked back to the sandy path leading to the house. I
stopped at the wooden door again wishing it was an automatic door so I did not
have to decide. Spotting a shadow by the window on my left, my heart pumped.
Somebody was at the window and was walking towards the door. I found it very
hard to swallow a big lump in my throat as my heart thumped against my chest. I
thought that I was the one who would be unconscious.
Hi, can I help you? asked the girl who was standing in front of me with a huge
grin. I swallowed hard while admiring her curly blonde. Seeing that, I knew she
must be Moms daughter. She looked 15, lean and has beautiful brown eyes.
Pretty.
Yess.. Ermm yeah.. I was looking for Mrs Collins. Hmm well, is this Mrs Collinss
house by any chance?
Ohh yeahh.. Hmm..Moms upstairs. And I think shes expecting you. Aunt Lisa
told mom this morning. She smiled pleasantly holding the door. Despite the
dazzling big smile, I could see the quizzical frowns on her forehead. I wondered
whether it was because I frowned first. Obviously Sister Lisa must have had said
something to Mom.
I waited. Looking for words, 1 folded my arms unintentionally and looked away at
the lilies, biting my lower lips. I thought of saying that it was a big mistake and
should just walk back to my car. After all, it had been 25 years since she left me.
It would not change anything, would it?
Owh well, you must be freezing. Please come in, shell be down in a minute.
She opened the door and took my left hand, looked at me in the eyes as if to ask
for permission and pulled me inside. As I dragged my feet down the hallway, I
could see a family picture on the wall. Something stabbed me, right on my chest.
Deep. I could feel the pain that I felt years ago when I found out I was left on my
own, and was on the verge of tears. Again, I thought of walking back to the door
but I brushed the thought away when I heard the footsteps. It happened so
quickly, I was not sure whether I was actually there. My stomach tightened when
I saw the hopeful look in her eyes.
William, ohh its you. Ive been waiting for you for what..like..30 years? I knew
you would find me. See, its in your nature. Being curious, that is.
Well, as if it was my mistake that she had to wait so long. I thought I was
supposed to wait for her to find me, or at least she should have gone to Bliss
Home to find out. Silence. I could not say anything looking at her fragile face. I
noticed that her daughter was standing by the small coffee table, looking out of
the window expressionlessly, pretending we were not there.

I looked at Mom pityingly and sighed. I was unsure of what to say. As if to wait for
me to invite her in her own living room, she stood by the door and smiled
awkwardly. Despite the quivered smile, I could still vaguely recognise those
beautiful brown eyes when she smiled. Then, she looked down at her hands,
which she clenched and unclenched nervously. I presumed that she was as
uneasy as I was. After a moment, I cleared my throat and forced a weak smile.
Seeing that, she ran towards me and hugged me. Sobbing. Tears welled in my
eyes. I closed my eyes, afraid that anyone would see me, but I knew she was
forgiven.