She strained her barely visible eyes- her eyelids with all their might trying not to get tugged.
Yeah, is it the new year already?
She thought, and shrugged.
For it didn’t matter much to her, a new day in a new year is just as much like another day in the past year; the past year was horrific. Not just for the world, it was for her as well. A year of absolutely no achievements; the nearest one to call an achievement would be a theatre role as a fixated magical tree which could only speak three words, yet how she felt like a dolt playing it. Besides, it wasn’t even a show at Broadway or anywhere the least renowned – she wouldn’t mind being a chump in a place as grand and attained as The Broadway – but that was just a non-appealing theatre out of the blue.
She tucked herself deeper into the blanket. Her fingers inadvertently fondling with the warm, soft piece of quilt. A disarray of coloured cloth stitched together, it wasn’t the most pleasant looking quilt blanket, but it certainly gave her the warmth and comfort that no other cloth can compare; it was her mother’s last gift to her.
Visions of her mother gradually strewed into her mind.
A gleam shimmered at the corner of her eye.
Mother was such a strong, tenacious and independent woman. I am anything but like her.
She whispered under her breath and choked up.
A wave of emotions hit her; all built up from the past year. During her college days, thinking about life after graduation was what kept her going, pushing through hurdles and up troughs. For she knew she could officially embark on her career as a theatre actress from then on. But she soon realised that life wasn’t a bed of roses as she’d expected, and rather of thorn roses instead. She could feel it coming, rivulets of tears were going to caress down her cheeks any moment.
“Have hope, always have at least a little hope.” Her mother’s voice echoed at the back of her mind, affirming yet affectionate.
But how could she? How could she amass feelings of hope amongst this wreck, and hope that this year would be any different from the year before?
She spent most of the last year, and the year before, at a cafe taking orders while daydreaming of being on stage. She auditioned for so many, countless of theatre roles till she became numb – it still hurts, though- at the response of rejection.
Two years of trying and hoping, yet to no avail. So how can any bit of hope still remain in her? She grimaced, then scoffed at her mother’s words.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Her phone vibrated.
How timely, she groaned.
Her eyes glinted at once – this time not of sorrow, but by gaiety, and an immense one that is. She jumped out of bed, humming a happy tune as she washed up.
She walked towards the door with a spring in her steps. While her fingers grasped onto the knob, she paused – looking down, lips slightly upturned – then muttered,
“Have hope, always have at least a little hope”.
The girl was now one huge step closer to her dream, and within her, so much hope she harboured for the year ahead.