1962

— "So, you are willing to listen to my life story?"

— "Yes, I am. By the way, don't worry, I won't judge you."

Vincent replied to Vanessa in a sweet tone, despite her initial rudeness. Glancing at the clock, which showed around 3:20 AM, he realized they only had two and half hours left.

Vincent eagerly awaited Vanessa's story—a tale of a girl whose occupation or circumstances he wasn't aware of.

Vincent had never heard anyone's life story before, nor had anyone shown curiosity about his own.

He was excited to experience life through someone else's perspective, as he had only known his own life thus far.

Now, he would have the opportunity to see life from another person's point of view—a concept with myriad interpretations among the approximately 5 billion people in the world.

Each person surely had a unique definition and opinion of life.

Vanessa took a deep breath, preparing to share her life story for the first time—a tale she had always kept hidden from everyone.

The cafe's atmosphere shifted, growing even quieter in the early hours of the morning.

Unbeknownst to them, at that perfect moment, both Vanessa and Vincent glanced out the large window with identical expressions—somewhere between monotony and excitement.

Vanessa closed her eyes briefly, transported back to the time of her birth, a period far from perfect, much like the present Amsterdam environment. Memories flooded back, each carrying the weight of a painful heart.

REMINISCENCE

11th January, 1962 Amsterdam, Netherlands

It was the era of the Dutch Empire, a time marked by the empire's aggressive exploitation of the Netherlands and numerous other territories worldwide.

Wars and conflicts raged across the globe, and the Netherlands found itself ensnared within the Dutch Empire's grasp.

In the midst of widespread unhappiness and oppression under the Dutch Empire's rule, many people sought to escape the country.

On this particular day, in a small community, a woman wept while holding her young child, who was perhaps two or three years old.

Her tears and sobs spoke volumes about the severity of her plight, though she stifled her cries, perhaps out of fear or for some other reason.

Surrounding her were three more children, all of whom appeared to come from impoverished circumstances.

The children, gazing at their distraught mother, felt a deep-seated fear stirring within them at the sight of her distress.

Among the children were two girls who seemed to be twins, evident from their similar nose shape and jawline, aged around 7 or 8 years old. The third child, a boy no older than 10, completed the trio.

Each child bore witness to their mother's sorrow, their own young hearts heavy with concern.

The five of them sat solemnly beside the graveyard, the three children's eyes reflecting helplessness that tugged at the hearts of anyone who looked upon them.

Despite their pure souls, they bore the weight of profound sorrow—evidence that innocence could be the most vulnerable.

Elysia, not appearing much older than a newlywed, continued to sob uncontrollably. Her grief stemmed from the loss of her two-year-old child, whose tiny body lay covered in unwanted blood.

The child, with a frail upper body and oversized head, had been born with abnormalities and had already departed from this world.

Elysia, mourning the unexpected death of her beloved child, was a woman in her late twenties who had not yet fully experienced life's joys.

Now, she faced the unbearable task of burying her child, whom she had sacrificed so much for. Her tears were not solely for her baby but for the shocking realization of the immense pain that existed in the world.

With trembling hands, Elysia had already prepared the grave, yet her shaking hand made it difficult to summon the strength needed to lay her baby to rest.

The weight of grief and disbelief hung heavily over the group, their collective sorrow palpable in the quiet cemetery setting.

Elysia, her eyes filled with fear and disbelief, reluctantly let her baby lie in the freshly dug grave, unable to accept the harsh reality.

She tenderly caressed her baby's face one last time before beginning to cover the small body with soil.

This act, burying her own child with her own hands, was the most agonizing thing Elysia had ever experienced.

As she laid her baby to rest, she felt like the worst mother in the world, a feeling exacerbated by the realization that she had sacrificed her child for the sake of her husband, Raiden—a man who cared only for her outward beauty and body.

Looking up at the sky, now obscured by dark clouds in the moonless night, Elysia felt as though her life had been extinguished along with her child's.

However, her focus shifted when she saw her three remaining children standing behind her.

Overwhelmed with grief and a desperate need for comfort, Elysia ran to them and enveloped them in a tight embrace, tears streaming down her face.

The three children clung to their mother, unaware that their younger sister had just been buried before their eyes.

They couldn't question Elysia about what had happened, as she was lost in her sorrow, unable to speak or listen.

After a few moments, Elysia regained a semblance of composure and began tenderly touching her children's faces, expressing love and adoration as if they were still alive—or perhaps as if they had suffered the same fate as their sibling.

Finally, Elysia spoke in a shaky, whispering voice that reached their ears with poignant clarity,

— "Don't leave me... Please. Don't make your mother cry, like everyone else has made me cry. Please don't hurt your mother. Okay? Okay?"

The eldest child, a boy not yet a teenager, responded innocently.

— "We won't, Mum. Don't cry. We can't stand to see you crying."

The eldest child wiped away his mother's tears with his little hands, and Elysia kissed him on the forehead with all the love she could muster.

Before she could say anything else, her seven-year-old daughter leaned in and planted a kiss on Elysia's cheek. Despite the pain, Elysia managed a smile and exclaimed,

— "Mum loves you too, Vanessa. I love you, Ryn and Heidi—all of you."

Heidi, resembling Vanessa as though they were twins, chuckled and remarked,

— "We already know you love us!"

Elysia stood up from the ground, clutching her children's hands tightly. Together, they walked towards the exit of the graveyard.

Elysia stole one last glance backward, feeling another pang of heartache, but knowing that nothing could change their reality.

With her children in tow, Elysia crossed the street and headed towards a small community where their modest home awaited.

The poverty surrounding their house was evident from its exterior.

Elysia felt a tightness in her chest as she realized she would soon face her husband—the very man responsible for her baby lying in the graveyard.

Elysia's return home marked a somber new beginning. As she stepped inside their modest dwelling—a two-room space comprising a simple kitchen and a small bathroom—she felt a surge of helplessness wash over her.

The worn furniture and faded walls hinted at a life lived on the brink of scarcity. Yet, despite the humble surroundings, Elysia held onto a fragile hope that this small house could still be the foundation for a stable family life, one that required strength both mentally and physically.

Inside, her gaze fell upon Raiden, her husband, who sat listening to the crackling radio broadcasting the latest news of Amsterdam. 

His demeanor struck Elysia as jarringly normal, as if oblivious to the immense grief that had recently befallen them with the loss of their last baby.

Elysia's heart weighed heavily with the knowledge that the decision to keep their last child had been solely hers; Raiden had shown little support throughout her pregnancy.

Their financial struggles, compounded by the challenge of providing for a family of five, had left them in a precarious state.

Raiden's apparent indifference grated on Elysia's nerves, fueling a mix of anger and resignation within her.

Despite her inner turmoil, she knew she needed to maintain composure for the sake of her children, who watched the scene unfold with wary eyes.

As Raiden acknowledged her return with detached nonchalance, Elysia felt the divide between them widen further.

She longed for answers, but the distance between them seemed insurmountable.

When Raiden noticed Elysia standing a few feet away, he promptly turned off the radio and greeted her with a smile, rising from his chair to approach her.

— "Oh, you're back! Let's get the kids to bed. Put them down and come to our room. Don't keep me waiting!"

He instructed as he headed towards their bedroom. Elysia hesitated briefly, taking in her surroundings with a sense of resignation. She knelt down pathetically and addressed her children with unwavering affection.

— "It's late now, my darlings. Let's finish dinner and then it's time for bed, alright?"

She gently urged. Ryn, Vanessa, and Heidi nodded in agreement, their young faces reflecting understanding and compliance.

With a mixture of love and pain, Elysia proceeded to feed her children by hand, forcing a smile despite the ache in her heart.

As the saying goes, when the pain becomes unbearable, tears become useless, and all that remains is a mask of resilience.