Chapter Text
Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. (Matthew 5:15).
The dawn of the rising sun illuminated the serene Dutch fields. The arrays of tulips and the rich greenness of the grass shimmered beneath its radiance, and the faint, light blue waters paired perfectly with the landscape. Natural beauty, after all, can only be truly resplendent when it is lit — or else, it remains dull and lifeless. Can one appreciate a bed of flowers in the night without the moon?
And so these rays seeped into the window of Maya Schoppenboer’s room. Such a beautiful day was, to her, nothing more than another Thursday, as was the case for millions of other Dutch residents. Thus, the stillness of this natural orchestra was interrupted by her alarm’s ringtone.
Maya got out of her bed, feeling a bit dizzy. Hmm… should I sleep more? Coco will wake me up later anyways. But she was already up, and there really was no point in going back. She stumbled over her bag as she walked over to her closet. OW! God damn it!
She looked through her array — well, more like piles — of clothes. There was no chance she would wear anything other than a hoodie and sweatpants, but what color should she wear? Red, gray, dark blue… eh, the gray one has the least amount of wrinkles. By this point, the differences between her daily choices felt meaningless — yet in the moment, it always seemed they might cause enormous effects.
She headed to the bathroom, but Mymy was already occupying it.
“Hurry up, Mymy!”
“A few more minutes, dear Belgian friend!”
Heh, good old Mymy. She seemed to be so certain of her insane patriotic delusions, something Maya found both extremely annoying and ever so slightly endearing. I mean, I guess I owe her for that presentation, after all. She very much saved my ass.
As Mymy exited, Maya immediately rushed in and locked the door. “Good morning to you too!” Mymy sarcastically remarked.
She took a good look at herself in the mirror. At her eyes which seemed to be perpetually exhausted and sleepless, at her black, messy hair, at every flaw she assigned an unreasonable amount of weight to. If only I could switch bodies with someone, like that one American movie… Freaky Friday? Something like that. She quickly brushed her teeth and splashed some water on her face. Not an exhaustive morning routine, but certainly an efficient one.
She looked at herself once more. Maybe she wasn’t so bad. Maybe there really was something special in her. Well, today’s likely not going to be the day I find that out.
She grabbed her bag out of her room and ran down the stairs. Her parents had already left, but Coco, being the sweet angel she always was, prepared breakfast for her and Mymy. It was just buttered toast and coffee, but it was something.
Maya thought of eating it, but toast just made her feel nauseous in the morning. So she just drank the coffee. It hardly had an effect on her due to her high tolerance for caffeine.
“So, Maya… anything exciting coming up?” Coco made attempts at small talk nearly every morning. This used to annoy Maya tremendously, but since history presentation day, she didn’t find it so bad.
“N-no, nothing really. Just, uh, the same old grind, haha!” God, why did I say it like that?
“Oh… well that’s fine!”
Maya could detect a minuscule hint of disappointment in Coco’s voice. I wish I could bring up something, anything… ah, well. A sinking feeling grew in her stomach, the kind that only arose when she felt that she was merely floating through life, neither anchored nor directed, and that her days were passing by without anything worth remembering.
Mymy soon followed down the stairs. She grabbed the toast and quickly scarfed it down, and then ran outside, all without saying a word.
“I suppose we better get going too!” Coco said as she put their dishes and mugs in the dishwasher.
“Yeah…”
The bicycle ride to school was as ordinary as it had always been. But for a brief moment, Maya allowed herself to be enamored by the spectacle of the sunrise painting the sky. She noticed the wind rushing onto her face, and it felt vivifying. Perhaps it was a small thing, but it was there. It didn’t have to be won with social desirability, intelligence, or success — it only required one to live.
And so to be locked away in school, the meritocracy centered around those three things, served only to convince her of her place in life: the transient punching-bag.
After the classes for the first part of the school day had passed, the lessons of which she had not even the slightest recollection, she decided to head over to her favorite bathroom stall for her lunch period. It wasn’t nice, but it was safe. As she walked there, someone accidentally ran into her and knocked her over.
“Oh, pardon me!” He reached out his hand, which she nervously took and got up. His grip was confident but not forceful. “So sorry, do forgive me!” He then ran off again.
Maya covered her red face with her hood and went on to the bathroom. In the stall, she impulsively took out her phone and started to doom-scroll, but a question popped into her mind.
Who was that?
Getting shoved, pushed and tripped either accidentally or intentionally was a very frequent occurrence for her. But when it happened, the person who did it either said nothing or swore at her. She’d never been apologized to, let alone helped up. How strange…
Still, it was only basic decency. It didn’t really mean anything. At least, she tried to grasp this fact, but a dried-out sponge does not scrutinize what kind of liquid it is soaking up.
As she sat there, she waited for the inevitable text from Coco inviting her to come outside and join her and her friends. But minutes passed, and there was only silence. She didn’t even come online. Ah, good, she finally learned to leave me alone.
But deep down, it felt uncomfortable, and she wasn’t sure why. Perhaps she liked at least having the opportunity, even if she would never accept it. More probable, though, was that she liked knowing someone remembered her, even if it was just Coco.
Yet the text didn’t come. Her lunch period came and went.
The rest of her classes went by in a blur as well. Throughout them, two questions occupied her mind — why did that person apologize, and why didn’t Coco send the text?
The latter, at least, could be answered sooner if she had the guts. As they walked to their bicycles, Maya looked over at Coco and fixed her gaze upon her. She wanted to ask the question, but knew it would sound hypocritical given how often she denied her invitations. Coco eventually noticed this, and smiled back. But since she didn’t remove her gaze, she asked, “Is something wrong, Maya?”
“No, nothing, but uh… I was just wondering why… you know, you always send me a text to join you outside…” Every word she added to this statement felt stupider, and her face began to glow red.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Maya!” She put her hand on her shoulder. “I thought you didn’t like me doing that, and I wanted to respect your personal space… but if you want, I can keep inviting you!”
She could hardly croak out a response. “Uhm — well, you know — y-yeah, if you don’t mind…”
Coco chuckled. “I don’t mind at all!”
Maya’s heart felt a little lighter as they rode home. Back in her room, she tried to do something “productive” — play her games, watch her anime, anything that would allow her to numb her mind — but she was simply incapable. So she collapsed onto her bed, listening to music till eventually she faded into sleep. A slight sense of happiness tingled in her, but she wasn’t sure why.