Chapter 4 Phil

Sundays were the best. It was the best time of the week and Arya’s chance to escape the sad reality. Arya loved sitting in the park and looking at people passing by. She was looking at them and imagining who they were and what they did. She sometimes watched children playing with their parents and for a brief moment she was a part of that family: an older sister, a cousin, a niece …

It was a warm Sunday afternoon, the sun was shining and there were a lot of people walking around. Many of them were eating ice cream. Arya was craving one, she didn’t have any money and her chances for an ice cream were equal to nothing but still she wanted one. She must have been looking very pitiful sitting on a bench and looking at the ice seller and all those people buying ice because an older gentleman accompanied by a smiling lady gave her an ice cream.

“Is this for me?”

“Yes it is  my child, enjoy it.” The older woman said warmly.

Arya stood up took the ice cream and bobbed.

“Thank you sir, thank you madam.” She smiled sweetly.

“What a nice and well behaved child. Are you here alone?” The woman inquired further.

“I’m an orphan madam and I’m an Omega.” Arya added licking the melting ice.

“It’s so delicious! Thank you one more time.” Arya was really happy. The woman looked sadly at the thin little child eating an ice cream with sparks of joy in her eyes. She whispered something to her husband and he gave Arya a silver coin.

“It’s for you.”

Arya looked surprised.

“For me sir? But I didn’t do anything to earn that much money?”

“You can buy yourself something to eat. Maybe another ice cream?” The woman smiled.

Arya thanked them again then the older couple left and Arya felt great. She ate the whole ice and went to a bakery nearby. It was an elegant street and Aria saw many delicious cakes and cookies on display. Now she could afford something from this shop. For a moment she wanted a cake but  decided to buy two buns stuffed with cheese and tomatoes. She was eating one of the buns feeling really happy when she spotted familiar faces. In one of the outdoor cafes there was a family sitting. They all were wearing white clothes. The woman was wearing lace gloves and the two children had elegant clothes, like taken out straight from the shop display. That used to be her family. Her brother must be twelve years old and her little sister about six by now. Four years ago they were sitting at one table. Now she was there standing with a bun in her hands and feeling victorious because someone gave her money, out of pity. They were laughing, in front of them there were ice creams in fancy bowls with fruit and wafers. Arya couldn’t force herself to walk away, she stood there in her too short worn out gray dress and too big shoes. She felt drawn to them because they were her family. Something pushed her forward, she came closer holding a paper bag with one bun inside. She wasn’t thinking what to say. She couldn’t open her mouth, something inside her chest was throbbing and she could barely breathe. She was standing close to a little fence separating her from the restaurant garden when somebody said loudly.

“Call some stuff, this little beggar is spoiling the whole atmosphere, I don’t feel like eating here anymore.”

All eyes were on Arya, her family looked at her too. Her father recognized her and looked away just as her stepmother. Some hand grabbed her arm and pulled her away till she fell on the street.

“Beggars are not allowed.” It was all she heard.

Arya stood up, her hand was bleeding but she didn’t feel the pain.

“I wasn’t begging, I just looked.” She turned around and left for the park, she had a spot there behind bushes where nobody could see her. Her throat was tight, she walked thanks to her muscle memory. Tears were rolling, she was crying soundlessly. On one of the benches she noticed a man. He wasn’t old, but looked really poor. With brown messy hair and a pretty long nose. He was raising his hand and begging for money to buy some food. Everyone was passing him by. Arya stopped and gave him the other bun. The man looked at her with shock in his eyes.

“You are giving me this bun?”

“Yes sir, I know how it feels to be hungry.” She said.

“Do you mind sitting here with me?”

Arya sat down and the man started to eat.

“This is so good, thank you. My name is Phil, what’s your name?”

“Arya.”

“That’s a fine name for a generous young girl. I feel bad because you don’t look like a rich lady.”

“No sir, I’m an orphan.”

Phil stopped eating for a moment.

“People were giving me things before, but I have never received so much as you gave me today.”

Ever since Phil became her teacher. He showed her the best spots for begging and taught her how to steal. Yes, Arya became a pickpocket. She was good at it. When she was lucky she earned quite a lot and was able to buy some food, even a cake or ice cream. She introduced Phil to Cora and they somehow were together as a couple. They helped each other.

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It was a rainy Wednesday when she met Phil at Cora’s place. Cora was lying in her bed and wasn’t moving. There were deep bruises on her throat and her eyes were bloodshot. One of her customers enjoyed himself too much. Phil was sitting next to Cora, holding her hand and crying. They looked through the apartment but there was nothing precious left except for little money next to an unfinished tube of ointment. Arya helped him to dress his lover’s body in a green sparkling dress, Cora’s favorite. The dress was partially damaged by moths but still Cora looked pretty. There was no fancy burial, no priest, just a bag and a hole in the ground dug by a gravedigger. Phil paid for everything. It was the last time Arya saw him.