“Our father, who art in Heaven,” glossy lips protrude outwards and curve over each syllable of the prayer. Dark hair is tightly swept up into a bun and pulls at facial flesh. “Ada, dear, repeat after me please,” her mother’s voice leaks no ill malice, but her eyes speak nothing but disgust. Messy, navy blue hair bobs up and down as the small child nods and repeats the holy words. Her mother approves of her memory before leaving to start preparing the family’s next meal. Ada, scarcely four years old, watches her mother’s retreating back enter the kitchen.
The child treads up the stairs to her room and plops onto her bed. “In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,” she rests the palms of her hands together and starts to pray, “Dear God, thank you for this day,” she hesitates before continuing, “it was not my favorite day, but I know that you will make tomorrow better. Mama says that you do everything for a reason, so I believe her. I love Mama and Papa very much, and I know they love me too. Thank you, Amen.” As Ada glides her right hand over her body in a cross formation, she hears her father enter through the front door after a long day’s work.
Ada’s father was a tall, strong man, with a good way with words. He was a lawyer, so the time he spent with his family was limited. As he entered into his home, he could smell his wife cooking, and he greeted her before hanging up his coat. With crisp documents in his hand, he walked over to his home office to sort details of client, never bothering to say hello to his only daughter.
Ada stays on her bed, lying down to stare at the ceiling. She could see shapes and animals start to form in the swirled wallpaper. Her green eyes danced across the lines and curves, and she giggled as she could see different scenes playing out before her. She was particularly interested in a bunny rabbit chasing a flower. Its paws shot out and in as it hopped around her ceiling, trying to catch the moving flower. The rabbit opened its mouth to pounce and whack! Ada sat up to the pounding on her door.
“Ada,” her father’s voice was slightly muffled from behind the door, “your mother is working by herself on dinner and you’ve locked yourself in your room to worship the devil. He is going to corrupt your spoiled mind more than it already is if you don’t come downstairs this instant and help your mother.” Ada stood up and wobbled to the door. She reached for the handle and opened the door, looking up at her scowling father. “Thank you Ada, you are truly God’s child.” He left back to his office and Ada went to the kitchen.
It didn’t take long after Ada joined her mother for dinner to be finished. After calling for her father, Ada and her parents sit at the table, say grace, and begin to eat. “Ada, take your elbow off the table,” her mother scoffs, “honestly, you don’t bother to try and help me until I’ve already finished everything. If you’re not going to do anything then don’t take any credit. But I love you anyways, and you love me.” Ada smiles warmly at her mother and nods. “Ada!” her mother screeches, “you devil incarnate, don’t open your mouth when it’s full of food, that’s utterly disgusting!” Ada quickly shuts her mouth and quietly apologizes once she has finished chewing. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, I know you’re only four and doing your best,” at her mother’s words, Ada perks up again and resumes eating.
Around eight o’clock, Ada’s mother tucks her into bed and kisses her forehead, “I love you,” she whispers sweetly, “even when you’re useless and annoying. I will always love you.” She kisses her head again before exiting her child’s room, leaving Ada feeling giddy at her mother’s praise.
Ada wakes up to screaming that morning. There was banging at her door and her mother’s voice could barely be heard over it. “It’s Sunday morning, you ungrateful child! God has done so much for you and yet you refuse to thank him!” The clock on Ada’s bedside table reads only a minute past seven in the morning. “Your father and I already went to mass. We had trusted you to go to seven thirty mass but to do so you would’ve had to wake up at seven and you didn’t! Were you up late talking to Satan?” Ada’s door opens with a thud as her mother storms in. “You sinful child! You’re not a baby, you should know better than this!” she stops and bores her eyes into her daughter’s.
“I’m sorry Mama, I won’t do it again,” is Ada’s reply, and her mother scoffs before turning and leaving. Ada closes her door quietly and throws a floral-patterned dress over her nightgown. She hurriedly brushes her teeth and combs her hair before rushing downstairs before seventy twenty. “I’m ready for church Mama!” she called as she reached the bottom of the steps.
Her mother looks up at the beaming child, clearly proud of herself for getting ready in time. “Oh, Ada,” she goes over to her daughter and smiles at her, “I’m sorry for yelling, you know I love you.” She pushes her daughter out the door, “God is thankful that you are his child,” and with that Ada is outside in the cold.
It’s November and leaves are littering the ground. Across the street Ada can see other children jumping into raked piles of brown and gold, laughing with each other. It looks like fun, but Ada continues to walk towards the church. Wind nipped at her ears and nose. She had forgotten a hat and regretted doing so, but she was already outside. She has yet to leave the lawn of her house, she could easily turn around, but she fears her mother would yell at her for being so forgetful. Of course, she had every right to yell, what four year old would forget something so important? Clearly only someone as dumb as Ada.
As she walks, leaves crunch beneath her boots and dogs wail behind fences to greet her. The dogs were cute and begging for her attention, but Ada continued forward. After a few minutes, she reaches the end of the street. She looks down at where the sidewalk bleeds into the weathered tar of the street. She has to look both ways before crossing the street, she remembers for mother telling her so. However, Ada doesn’t look up. She can’t remember whether she was supposed to look left or right first. ‘Mama said that if I look the wrong way first,’ she thinks, ‘it will summon the devil and he will take my soul to Hell.’ She stands there for a minute, worrying, before deciding to pray. After her prayer, she gathers the courage to look right. There are no cars and no devil coming her way, so then she looks left. When she was safe to cross, she runs as fast as her little legs can handle to the other side of the street.
On her way home from mass, Ada deems it safe to pet the dogs that barked hello. The first one she greets has black fur and leaves its tongue dangling out. It licks her hand, which is kind of gross, but she giggles and pets the dog’s head. The next two dogs she sees are very small compared to the last one, and much less slobbery. When she makes it to the street her house is on, she has already stopped to pet six dogs. After petting one last dog, Ada is standing in front of her house, engulfed in its towering frame.
A tiny, cracked hand reaches for the gate and opens it. She places her left heel directly in front of her right big toe. Then she puts her right heel directly in front of her left big toe. Again and again she walks this way until she has counted thirty six steps. So raises her hand and knocks on the large, tan door. After seventeen Mississippi’s, Ada’s mother opens the door.
“You’re late!” is screamed into Ada’s face as she is dragged inside. “Your father and I have been looking everywhere for you! We called the neighbors and asked them if they had seen you, and now that you’re here, after doing God knowns what, we have to tell them to forget everything. Do you know how embarrassing that it? Never in my life have I done something so utterly humiliating. What in Heaven’s name were you doing?”
Ada looks away before answering, ashamed of what she had done. “I stopped to pet some dogs.” She looks up briefly, but long enough to see her mother appalled.
“Dogs? Dogs! Were they rabid? Creatures of the devil I bet they were. He was trying to tempt you to pet those dogs. He wanted to make your father and I suffer. He has never liked us because we are loved by God. God favors us because we have never sinned. But the devil never stopped trying. And because of you he succeeded! Now we can no longer be God’s favorite. Hellish child! What have you done?” Ada’s mother is seething with rage, her face becoming more crimson by the second. Ada is horrified. She must have looked the wrong way when crossing the street, and the devil had tricked her! Now she is doomed to an eternity in Hell.
Ada looks up at her mother and starts to apologize, but before she can, a loud thwack can be heard and she can feel a cold, stinging sensation in her right cheek. Never in her four years of life has Ada been hit. Her cheek burns now, and it leaves a horrid sensation in her face, which is beginning to numb. Ada can feel tears forming in her eyes, bet she refuses to cry. She had deserved to be hit, her mother was giving her God’s punishment for obeying Satan.
Ada’s mother sighs before kneeling down to be closer to Ada’s eye level. “Oh, Ada, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean to hit you, right? I love you Ada. I would never want to hurt you.” Ada feels her mother’s arms around her before she knows she’s being hugged. Ada was hit for the first time and had for first hug within the same minute. The sensation is surreal; her cheek is warm, but her body feels cold, even with her mother’s warmth surrounding her. And she is scared.
Not long after, Ada feels even colder as her mother unwraps her arms from her torso. Her cheek is cooling down, but there remains a tingling feeling. Her mother apologizes again before asking her about mass. Ada had payed attention during mass, she could’ve easily repeated the entire Homely, but in this moment, her mind is blank. As her cheek throbs, so does her chest; she feels sick. But she smiles at her mother before apologizing for petting the dogs, and then proceeds to her room. Ada was scarcely four years old when she first starts doubting what she knows.
Ada’s alarm blares as it hits seven thirty. She kicks up her legs and throws off her covers. November sixth, more commonly known to Ada as “my birthday”. Ada is turning six today, and she’s never been more excited. After kindergarten last year, she started first grade with four good friends: Megumi, Lola, Lin, and Erika. They’re coming over tonight at six for Ada’s very first sleepover. The pitter-patter of Ada’s feet turns into obnoxious thumping as she speeds down the stairs.
“Mama!” Ada calls from the hallway. She peers into the kitchen to see her mother making pancakes. “Mama, Mama! Guess what?” she slides over to her mother and stares up at her with wide eyes and an even wider smile. “It’s my birthday!”
Her mother glances down with a soft smile on her lips. “I know, dear. I’ve ordered a cake from the place you saw in the magazine the other day. It should be here before your party starts.” Ada jumps up and cheers before thanking her mother and rushing away.
Back in her room, Ada tries deciding on whether to wear her light blue dress with the pink and purple flower pattern, or her frilly red shirt with her poofy black, sparkly skirt. They are both beautiful outfits and it’s extremely hard to choose one over the other. The dress is cute and girly, but the skirt screams elegant and mature. She is definitely the most mature one of all her friends, so wearing the skirt should obviously be the right choice. However, she is also most definitely the cutest of all her friends, so this choice remains a difficult one. After much consideration, Ada picks the dress and quickly changes into it.
“Dear God,” she starts to pray after changing, “thank you for helping me choose what to wear today, and for my friends, and for the cake, oh and for Mama’s pancakes! But also I want to thank you for watching over me on this fabulous and most important day. Amen!” She skips back downstairs and sits at the table.
Watching her mother cook, she remembers the time she herself once attempted to make pancakes. The whole ordeal ended in a complete mess and her mother yelled at her for a good five or so minutes. After reminiscing for quite some time, pancakes are placed are the table. Ada thanks her mother and waits for her father before saying grace.
“Ada, your father has a very important case to work on today so he left early. You can start grace now.” And so Ada starts grace and immediately following her words her mouth is stuffed with delicious pancake. Her mother talks about their plans for the day and Ada hums in acknowledgement, mouth to full to form coherent words.
At four o’clock the doorbell rings and Ada answers it. Above her stands a man with a large, white box cradled in his hands. “Mama!” she yells, “the cake is here!” She runs out of the way when she sees her mother approaching. She takes the box and hands it to Ada, telling her to place it in the kitchen, before reaching out her hand and giving the man his payment plus a tip.
The box is heavy, Ada can barely hold it. It’s so big that she has to strain her neck to see. She walks slowly and carefully into the kitchen. She can hear her mother thanking the cake man as she reaches the kitchen doorway. In front of Ada lies the table where her cake is to be placed; this is a big moment. Her feet inch closer to the piece of furniture and she can practically hear dramatic movie music playing. The moment of truth is upon her now; she reaches upwards and gently lowers the large box. She hears the front door shut closed behind her. The click-clank of her mother’s heels grows louder as she approaches. Ada removes her hands from below the box and sucks in a breath. The box is safely on the table.
Ada turns to look at her mother and smiles, and her mother returns her smile. “Mama, what does the cake you ordered look like?” Ada asks, impatient and needing to know. Her mother just shakes her heard before declaring it a secret. A secret that just has to be spilt.
Ada’s mother leaves the kitchen to go decorate the family room for Ada’s party. And this is the real moment of truth, for Ada is determined to see her cake now. She peals the lid of the box up slightly and peeks inside. In the box is a circular cake with light pink frosting. Around the circumference of the cake are frosting flowers, and in the center reads “HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADA” in blue lettering. Ada smiles at the cute cake and closes the lid.
Ada turns around to leave the kitchen and notices her mother glowering over her. She gulps, and goes to apologize, but is stopped by her mother. “I don’t care if it’s your birthday, you had no right to disobey me. I told you not to look at your cake. I wanted it to be a surprise and now you’ve ruined it!” Ada wants to tell her that she never told her not to look, but decides against doing so. “You rude child! I have done nothing to deserve this attitude of yours, and frankly I’m disgusted you act in this way. You had best be better around your friends because if your ugly self rubs off on them and I get a call from one of their mothers to complain things will be nothing but downhill for you!”
Ada shifts her eyes away and stares at the floor, “I’m sorry.” But instead of forgiveness, Ada is met with a hand slap across her cheek. Footsteps can be heard dissipating and angry muttering is muffled by the walls. She wants to cry, but she deserved to be hit, she had disobeyed her mother. Her cheek stings in a way that it hasn’t in two years. And Ada sits in the kitchen for half an hour before deciding to go to her room.
In her room, Ada kneels down and laces her fingers together, “Dear God,” she starts to pray, but is interrupted by a hiccup, which is then followed by uncontrollable sobs. She sobs for a while, almost too long in her opinion, and apologizes. “Dear God,” she stutters, “I know you do everything for a reason, and I don’t mean to question you, but,” she stops and bites her lip. She thinks about what just happened in the kitchen and sniffles. “But I want to know why you did this. Why did Mama hit me? I know she loves me, but does she have to hit me? I’m sorry, I’m sorry for questioning you. Mama hasn’t done anything wrong. Thank you for watching over me.”
At five fifty Ada’s friends start to arrive. Each girl brings an over-night bag and a gift into the house. Megumi is first to arrive and hugs Ada immediately upon spotting her. “Ada, Ada! Happy birthday!” she sings. Her bright red hair is pulled back into a blue scrunchie, and her pale freckles dance across her nose as she smiles. Lin and Erika arrive together, having carpooled, shortly after Megumi did. Approximately ten minutes past the scheduled time, Lola arrives and her mother apologizes profusely to Ada’s mother for being so late.
The five girls walk into the family room to set up their sleeping bags. There is chatter strewn about as the guests discuss the decoration and how beautiful they are. The sleeping bags are set up so Ada’s in the middle with Megumi on her left and Lin on her right, with Lola next to Megumi and Erika next to Lin. Once the sleeping arrangements are agreed upon, and the presents are piled in the corner, Ada’s mother brings in pizza, potato chips, and soda. She reminds them to say grace before eating, and then leaves them to enjoy the party.
“Ada!” Megumi calls, “what movie do you want to watch?” Her eyes glitter with anticipation and adrenaline. “I think we should watch one with really cool action and fighting!” Megumi punches her fist upwards to elaborate on just what kind of movie she wants.
“What?” Lola draws out, “No way! Fighting movies can get really scary!” she pinches her eyes shut. “No matter what, it has to be a princess movie. One where she swears a really pretty dress and her animal friends sing with her and she dances with a prince!” Lola giggles and holds her face.
“I think a romance would be good,” Lin starts her opinion before Erika chimes in.
“One with mermaids and fairies! And werewolves and they have to fight for the hearts of the princess of the sea.” Erika is now standing, posed with a dramatic expression and hands clenched tightly to her chest. Lin sighs and shakes her head in exasperation with her next-door neighbor.
“Erika, we should watch a romance between humans, not mythical creatures,” Lin emphasizes the word human and watches as Erika plops back onto the ground with a pout.
“What! Lin, no way!” Megumi shouts, “Mermaids and fairies are totally real!” Erika and Lola nod angrily at the nonbeliever. “You just can’t see them because you don’t believe!”
Lin looks skeptically at the three girls, one eyebrow quirked higher than the other. “Well,” she begins, “if you do believe if them, why haven’t you seen any?” Lin smirks as they glance at each other, hoping someone else has an answer. “See? They’re not real.” The other three whine.
Ada chuckles behind her hand as her four friends argue about the existence of mythical creatures. ‘They’re so silly,’ she thinks in the noise, ‘they can’t exist because God didn’t make them. Didn’t their mamas tell them so?’
“We can watch a romance movie with princesses, but no fighting!” Ada decides. “Fighting is a sin, and all who hurt someone else will be punished by God and go to Hell.” Ada leaves the room to grab some movies with those qualifications, and returns shortly after with three DVD cases.
After a short debate, the five girls choose a movie about a princess that loses her memory and has to travel back to the palace with her true love. Ada places the disc into the DVD player and sits onto the couch next to Lin.
Just over halfway into the movie, Lola and Erika are fast asleep. The princess is just about to reach the palace when Megumi also begins to nod off. Lin helps her to her sleeping bag before she completely dozes off, and then returns to her place on the couch.
Two empty popcorn bags are crumpled on the floor, next to a mostly empty box of cheese and pepperoni pizza. The bag of chips is snuggled between Ada and Lin, forgotten ten minutes into the movie. Pink and gray cups are scattered on the surface of the glass coffee table, surrounded here and there by small puddles of carbonated liquid. Napkins are hastily thrown across numerous places of the carpet, trying to hide where soda has been spilt.
“Oh, Kevin,” the television blares, “I don’t know if I’m truly ready to return to the palace. Are you really sure I’m the princess?” The girl on screen looks longingly into Kevin’s eyes, a quaint frown possessing her lips. Her eyes water as she embraces her love, breathing softly into his shoulder.
Kevin squeezes her tightly, a delicate smile gracing his lips. “Of course Ashley, I’m absolutely sure that you’re her.” He lifts up her head and stares into her tearful eyes. His own eyes flutter closed as he leans into her, kissing her lips softly. The two breathe into the kiss and the stars above them glisten even brighter.
Ada squirms as the scene plays out; it makes her rather uncomfortable. She looks over at Lin who seems to be enjoying Ashley and Kevin’s passionate kiss. It’s weird, Ada thinks, she has never seen her parents kiss or even hug, but the characters on the screen do it so easily. The man in television shows always ends up kissing the girl, and they fall in love. Every show and movie ends with the man and the woman together and they live happily ever after.
It’s weird, Ada thinks, because she knows God created Adam and Eve and they probably kissed. It’s weird because one female and one male of every animal species was put on Noah’s ark. ‘Mama says every little girl grows up and get married to the boy of her dreams,” she thinks, ‘she says God created one girl for every boy.’ It’s weird, Ada thinks, because Kevin’s friend doesn’t fall in love.
Ashley and Kevin’s embrace releases and they clasps their hands together before walking towards the palace again. The two are illuminated by bright streetlights and music starts to play. They start to sing and dance in the street about their love and how happy they are to be together. Ada leaves to use the toilet.
When Ada returns, Ashley and Kevin are at the palace talking to the king and queen. Lin has bundled into her sleeping bag with her hand propping her head up. Ada copies her friend and the movie finishes with them snuggled close and yawning.
Ada feels choked, and a young woman approaches her. Her eyes are a deep brown and her hair is a fiery orange, tied together tightly in braids and wrapped around her scalp. Ada has trouble looking at the stranger, her body is a hazy blur but her face is sharp and saturated with vibrant, pink cheeks. The woman walks over to Ada and kneels beside her. Her bloodied lips trace out the name “Eve”, but no words escape her lungs. A wrinkled hand stretches out from the blurry cloud of body the woman possesses, nails curved like serpents and smiling with apple dangling from their teeth.
“‘Your desire will be for your husband’ he told me, and he has ruled me ever since,” the woman speaks with a raspy voice, as if there is no air in her lungs. Her teeth, Ada notices, are rotted apple slices, and her lips are peeled apple skin. Her eyes are dry and hollow, barely focusing on Ada. The blurred body shifts into a long, thin strand, and the cloud disperses to reveal a snake. Her lips, plump and red around her face, slither up and quirk a sly smile. “Eat the apple,” her slimy, green torso wiggles to push her upwards. “Eat the apple, Ada, it’s good,” the serpentine body is a woman’s nude and peachy flesh now, curved and smooth at her hips and breasts.
“God made us, Ada, to be partners,” she saunters closer, “so eat what I have eaten and join me.” The two stand above a cliff, mere inches away from the edge. “This, my dear,” the woman rests her petite hand on Ada’s bare shoulder, “is the story of Ada and Eve.” The wind whips and lashes at Ada’s face as she’s pushed from the garden at the top of the cliff. Her heart clenches tight against her ribcage and she sows her eyes shut.
When Ada awakes it is still dark outside. Her hand is pulling tightly on the chest of her dress, feeling her pounding heart grope across her ribs. Her breath is raged and her eyes are wide. She is scared, terrified, and wants to cry. Ada pulls her legs up and cradles her knees. Her breath starts to slow and the wind outside throws a branch at the window. Rubbing her eyes, Ada makes her way to the bathroom, bumping into walls along the way. Starring into the mirror, Ada looks everywhere but her reflection. A small, shaking hand grasps and pulls a handle and water slowly trickles down into the sink. Gradually, the water gets angry and shoots and yells into the drain, splashing remnants of its battle onto the countertop. Ada forcefully scrubs water on her face and quickly shuts off the faucet.
Waddling back to her sleeping bag, Ada digs into her brain to try and recall why she was so scared when she woke up. The shadowed walls do nothing to help her remember, only cause her to stub her toes here and there. ‘If I was so frightened,’ she reaches her hands in front of her body to guide herself through the hallway, ‘I must have dreamt I was with the devil.’ Sneaking back into her sleeping bag, she thinks on when she looked at the cake without permission. That action must have called Satan to her.
Green eyes pierce into the dark and soft breathing drum along the walls. Ada stares up at the ceiling, unable to return to sleep. She is tired, but far too afraid of meeting up with the devil to enter a slumber. Her friends’ sleepy breaths are music in the otherwise quiet room. “In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,” Ada prays, “I’m sorry for sinning, please do not let the devil take me. Amen,” and she closes her eyes.
It’s Ada’s first day of sixth grade, only one more year until her parents will let her go to a public school with Megumi. She bows at the nuns she passes and makes her way to the classroom. The room is stuffy and wooden desks are aligned in rows facing the blackboard. Pale dust skirts across the board as it has not been properly cleaned in a while, and broken, white chalk is lined on the metal reaching out from where the board ends. She has had classes held in this very room for five years and most of the girls in the room now have gone with her.
The school’s uniform consists of a dull gray blouse with a faded red skirt, along with thin black tights and tan loafers. The collar of the shirt reaches tight across the base of the neck, and the sleeves stop midway down the forearm; the skirt stops just short of the knees. Ada finds the outfit utterly uncomfortable, but is forced to deal with the scratching fabric. However, the uniforms have one positive side effect: the tight cloth sculpts every girl’s figure to perfection.
Ada sits down at her desk, in the second to last row, three seats from the right. She takes out some paper, a pencil, and an eraser, before taking her books out of her desk. She waits until the bell chimes and girls scurry to their seats, a nun marching into the classroom.
“Silence, girls,” the wrinkly nun snarls, “open your bibles to Genesis 2:4.” The nun writes “ADAM AND EVE” across the blackboard and coughs after inhaling chalk dust. “We’re starting off the day with a lesson in the symbolism in the story of Adam and Eve.” She paces across the front of the room and then returns to her desk, “does anyone volunteer to start reading aloud to the class?” Her sagging eyes squint as her neck cranes her head at an uncomfortable angle to inspect the room. With no arms raised, the nun lands her eyes to a head of dark, unruly hair, “Jakaba, you start.”
Ada stands up and brushes off her skirt before picking up her bible and scanning the words. “‘This is the account of the heavens’,” her voice glides across her chapped lips in a flowing manner, gracing her peers’ ears with a melodious tune. She reads until just after Eve is created and then takes her seat again while the nuns calls on another girl to read the next passage.
The girl the nun called on was named Ilana, if Ada remembers correctly. She’s shorter than Ada is, with the top of her head around Ada’s nose. Ilana’s hair is long and tied up in braids which are then wrapped around and pinned to her cranium. She has large, brown eyes with sunken bags underneath, showing a lack of sleep. And her lips, Ada stares, are round and almost red, forcing each word from them to penetrate the air. They gloss and shimmer, Ada assumes Ilana broke the no makeup rule and applied lip gloss, but in this moment she doesn’t care. Ilana’s lips are positively breathtaking, Ada can’t help but stare, completely missing every word being spoken, but knowing what was said solely from the articulate motions performed from those glorious lips.
As Ilana sits down after reading, Ada continues to eye her. Her face is soft yet crisp, expanding from behind her hairline. Her neck is elongated and tiny beads of sweat can be seen sliding down the long slope. Her blouse pushes out slightly at her forming breasts, leaving Ada’s mouth drier. Her arms are thin and move smoothly as she writes down notes.
Notes. Ada hurriedly picks up her pencil and starts writing what’s written on the blackboard and what she can hear the nun saying. She was so entranced with Ilana that she missed what was being said about the story’s symbolism. Even while writing Ada keeps catching herself glance over at Ilana’s plump lips, ripe and juicy as apples. Suddenly, she feels cold, colder than she should be inside a building in September. Her breathing gets choppy and her mouth is void of saliva. She feels guilty.
It’s ten minutes until five when Ada returns home from school. In her room, she throws her bag onto the floor and she plops down onto her bed. She buries her face into the sheets and feels like screaming, but hesitates in doing so because she fears her mother will hear. Ada turns onto her back and drapes an arm over her eyes. She’s tired, more so than she normally would be at this time, but she can’t help a yawn from escaping her mouth.
Staring into the blackness of her eyelids, Ada can see shapes form in hesitant colors. Nothing coherent, but she tries to follow the misplaced lines. She sees a deep purple oval just before her mother bursts open her bedroom door. “Ada Jakaba!” she roars, “I’ve just received word from the school, but you were daydreaming during class!”
Ada uncovers her face and sits up to see her mother retreating into the hallway. Moments later, she returns with her husband who glares at Ada. “Your mother tells me you’re not paying attention during school,” he crosses his arms and steps into Ada’s room. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I was paying attention,” she squeaks and all of a sudden she feels warmth shattering into her left check. She’s grabbed by the collar of her blouse and hoisted up by her father.
“Sinful child!” he bellows, “You sin on holy ground and now you lie to your father!” He throws her onto the floor, stomping onto her side when she refuses to get up. “You are the devil’s child!” leaves Ada on the floor and exits with his wife in tow.
Ada’s head is pounding and her body is sore. She squeezes her eyes shut and grits her teeth as she winces from the pain that shocks her body when she tries to get up. Moving her head, she sees small drops of red smeared into the carpet and licks her lips: blood. She must have cut her lip when she was punched. Slowly, Ada raises her arm and pushes her limp body into a sitting position. Grappling onto the wall, she lifts herself up and stumbles to her bed.
“Ada,” her father’s voice is lowered as he reenters his daughter’s room. “Ada, I love you, you know that, right?” He strides over besides Ada and pats her head, rubbing her hair. “I love you with all my heart,” and with that, he kisses the top of her head and leaves, closing the door behind him.
“In the name of The Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit,” Ada chokes out once her father has left, “I know that you do everything for a reason, God, at least, that’s what Mama always said. But,” she stops, unsure what to say. “But, lately I’ve felt like there’s no reason for all of,” she glances at her side, sore from the stomping, “this.”
Ada lays back, crumpling her uniform even more, and turns her head to the side. ‘Is God even real?’ she asks herself, ‘If He does, why does He hate me? What did I do to make him so mad at me?’ Her breath catches in her throat and she stutters. “And,” she continues her prayer, “am I really the devil’s child? I didn’t mean to stare at Ilana! I didn’t.” She closes her eyes and inhales a shaky breath, “Amen.”
Ada wakes up to a throbbing pain in her side. She groans and slowly gets up, realizing she had slept in her school uniform. She staggers downstairs and the hallway lights are still off. Looking outside, the sun has barely started to rise above the horizon. The fiery hue reminds Ada of Ilana’s orange hair, and she frowns. Limping into the kitchen, Ada grabs an apple from the fruit bowl and takes a bite from its blood-red skin. Her teeth dig into its juicy flesh and rip some out.
She really hadn’t meant to zone out while starring at Ilana, she was just so pretty that Ada couldn’t help herself. She did, however, manage to salvage most of what was being said about the symbolism. The red of the apple was meant to show lust and its sinful control, much like Ilana’s hair controlled Ada’s attention. Ada supposes that Ilana was much like Eve in that sense. Both of them had tricked someone into temptation and the tricked ended up punished. Ilana’s almost-red lips were like the apple that Eve tempted Adam with, having him devour the fruit.
By the time Ada reaches the core of the apple, the sun is almost fully nude behind the buildings of her neighbors. The sky is bluer, with pinks and oranges still leaping across the horizon. Tossing the apple into the trash, Ada hobbles back to her room to get ready, even if her uniform was dirty.
Classes today start with mathematics— numbers are strewn across the blackboard in threatening white chalk. Lines and shapes skirt around the numbers, intimidating a majority of the students. Pencils move furiously as each girl tries to keep up with the equations stabbing the air past their ears. Formulas are spat at the girls as they race to remember them.
Ada eyes dart across the room to look at orange hair. Ilana looks less tired than she did yesterday, but her eyes still look sunken, almost guilty. Hair falls in front of Ada’s face and she rushes to pull it back behind her ear, momentarily taking her eyes off of Ilana. The papers on Ada’s desk have scare marks littering its surface, almost empty of any notes.
Ada brings her eyes to her blank paper, tapping the tip of her pencil onto it. The edge dances in curved motions and leaps every so often to start a new pattern of curves. The pencil swoops down and quickly turns around and traces out an elegant, elongated figure. Now etched into Ada’s paper is a rough drawing of Ilana’s face in a three-quarter view. Immediately, Ada swaps out the paper with the one underneath it, and hurriedly jots down the information on the board.
Just before Ada turns thirteen, she starts attending a public school. She enters in seventh grade, missing the first year of public middle school to finish with the religious school. She isn’t in the same classes as Megumi, she learns when she gets to homeroom, and pouts at her seat.
Next to her, a girl with black hair cut just below her jaw reads a book, holding it between her ring finger and pinky. The girl’s legs are crossed and her raised foot is tapping along to an internal beat. Her thin lips are a pastel pink and they’re drawn tightly but quiver slightly upwards, trying not to smile.
The girl soon puts her book down, and when she looks at Ada her mouth loosens and the threatening smile turns into a foreboding frown. Her eyes glance down and then back up along Ada’s body, and she clicks her tongue in disgust. “What’s with your hair,” her nasally voice chokes Ada, “don’t you own a brush?” She laughs to herself and resumes reading her book.
Ada wants to say yes, that she does own a brush, but ignore the girl and waits for the teacher to start introductions. ‘Dear God,’ she prays in her mind, ‘if you’re really real, please don’t make this school suck. Thanks, Amen.’ She doesn’t often pray anymore, declaring to herself that if God won’t be nice to her, then she won’t be nice to God. Ada then sees a red-haired girl sitting across the room and she flinches. This girl reminds Ada of Ilana and she wants to throw up and her head starts to throb.