The Last Day of April

Avril was born in the midst of a curfew, in her grandmother's bathtub. It had been uncomfortable, but was the least of her worries.

Many things happened mere moments later, as men and women in outfits she didn't recognize, stormed into the small home. First, they took Avril away, holding a report and saying that her mother was infected. The house was emptied of its inhabitants, and the little baby girl taken to another hospital.

There she grew, mere centimeters on the formula milk they fed her. Her eyes opened and shut themselves at the sight of light. She wasn't ready yet. She wanted to go back to the womb, to swim again in the protected waters.

She did not get her wish. Instead, she felt the days roll by, hinted by the yellow light on the window, that came and left as often as her sleep.

The people bustling around sometimes dropped fluffy toys of strange creatures into her cot. Strange smiling faces often appeared in front of her, cooing at the utter cuteness of Avril's obvious discomfort. They spoke of how the timing was unfortunate and how the world was forced onto it's knees. They talked of morose things like death and shared prophecies promising the same.

They said the year was cursed and that this month simply wasn't meant to be. Avril looked on innocently at the hurrying nurses and the busy doctors and wondered if perhaps, her life had simply been mistimed?

But there were many benefits to being born in April. One of them was that it was spring time. It was green and full of flowers outside and if Avril tried a little hard she would catch a whiff of the roses on the desk in front of the room. Sometimes when the windows were left open in the nursery, a little butterfly would enter or Avril could hear a swallow chirrup from the tree outside. A pale trickle of sunlight would tease through the curtains and land on her light brown eyes, a soft warm wind tickling her plump cheeks.

Avril was curious, as much as she could be. Spring was about discoveries and she was no different. Her brown eyes grew wider as the days dragged on. She taught herself to raise her legs, and wave her arms and even turn a little in her cot. Perhaps, one day she would learn to crawl and then she would find her way home. She didn't cry much, or command much attention, as though already wisened by the tragedy surrounding her.

She did not know how many days she stayed in the crowding nursery or why so often the nurses she liked disappeared. Everytime that happened, for a brief moment she always wanted to go back, to the soft warmth of her mother's womb.

And then one day, they surprised her by saying she could.

A tall man in a white coat, stuck a cold stethoscope on her chest and declared her fit and fine. Avril would have scoffed if she could, but smiled instead. She had long since learned that many adults didn't know what to do with creatures who cried.

They put her in a little pram and tucked her into a car. The wheels hit the tarmac and for the first time in her life Avril looked out into the streets. Brilliant, loud music played as people cheered on the road. They wore bright colourful clothes and sported big, bright smiles. Some of them whistled and hooted as though they were celebrating.

Everyone stood a little far apart, a tune on their lips as they clapped, with no intentions of stopping soon.

Were they clapping for Avril?

She found herself smiling despite not knowing.

Balloons filled the clear sky, white with freedom and colours of the country. There were people in uniforms, looking tired and zealous at the same time. Their badges shone brightly in the morning sun, the glint reaching their eyes. They saluted every vehicle that went past them and Avril waved back with her tiny fist.

People were standing on their balconies, holding their hands in prayer, as they looked on at the celebrations. The roads were filled with streamers and shining glitter as an occassional cab swept past. Everyone had somewhere to be, and they were merrymaking as they went. And yet Avril spotted in the corner of the streets, a few people, with tears streaming down their wrinkled faces, a smile gracing their lips. She didn't know what it was called, but what she saw was gratefulness and relief.

The humming car engine finally stopped at a dead end road and honked loudly several times.

A woman, with brown eyes like her own, opened the door, and picked Avril up instantly. She fit in her arms perfectly and smelled sweet, like home.

Her arms were strong and gentle at the same time, the way most mothers are. Avril hugged her tight burying her face in her mother's bosom as the woman thanked the driver repeatedly.

The first time Avril looked into her mother's eyes, she saw utter joy. She had been weakened by an illness, but somehow survived. Her skin brightened as it touched Avril's and a soft blush speckled both their cheeks. Her heart was full as she realized, the world had fought a war, and won. Here, in her arms lay her reward.

Her soul lit up as she carried her little girl hom e, whispering over an over again, how a child born on the last day of April, brought love and luck to the world.