• “Ela, do you want to go to the park, today?”

    The man’s voice echoes in the young girl’s mind, bringing her out of misery. She finds herself on the landing between the two rickety flights of stairs that took up the left side of the house. A pail of soapy water was cumbersomely in her tiny hands, reminding her that she was in the middle of doing one of her many choirs, which includes scrubbing all the floors, washing the windows, dusting, and sewing. It’s not that she day dreams as she fulfill these duties, it's just that these repetitive tasks were numbingly mindless for a child. Her mother is extremely strict for her German background and insisted that her daughter help her run the household starting age eight. Her father takes pity on poor Elauria because she doesn’t go out and play with other children of her age, even if they are neighboring their house.

    Setting the heavy bucket in the corner, out of the way, she leans forward and cupped her mouth with her little hands, “Yes, I would love to go!” Before her mother could vocally protest, she rushes up stairs with glee to change into her summer dress. Her father bought that dress for her on her tenth birthday to wear whenever they go out of the house. Elauria was born on Father’s Day and was often told by her mother that she was the most precious gift she ever could give to her loving husband. She hops onto the stool to check herself in the wall mirror. Her dress made of chiffon was blood red with the skirt made in three layers and red silk ribbons to tie around her petite shoulders. Even though it was three years ago, it still fits her. She smiles at the freckled girl in the glass. Unlike her mother’s fiery hair, Elauria’s blonde hair is straight and passes beyond her shoulders ending at the middle of her back. The hair is from her father’s side of the family, but her eyes belong to her mother’s side; it’s a beautiful hazel of green and blue. As she tilts her little round head, she wonders what to do her hair that, in her eyes, is so plain. But her father beacons her to come down stairs, so she hurriedly put on a black headband and rushed out of her room.

    Elauria flew down the stairs and greet her father with joy written all over her face. The tall business man smiles back at his little gem with warm brown eyes. Firmly grasping the door handle, he turns to see her hopping up and down with excitement, “Ready, little lady?” She holds still for one second to give her father a big nod, making him chuckle. “Very well,” Turning the knob he strained, “Aaand -” In a flash he flung the door open and cried out, “They’re off!” On cue, Elauria sprints off like a madman down the apartment stairway followed by her father as he narrates the racing blow-by-blow. At the finished line, which was the threshold of the apartment complex’s entrance, she did her victory dance and hugged her father when he finally came in for show. Mr. Jones spied that his wife was looking on, laughing of the childish fun, and gives her a wink. After the warm embrace, Elauria grasp her father’s hand and tugs him along, “Come on, daddy, let’s go get some roses!”