It's human nature.
A part of every child, every adult, and every person – they may deny it if they must – yearns for the opportunity to be happy. Whether the happiness stems from a good day at work, or a love interest, or even the companionship of a family pet, each and every human on earth craves for the earth shattering gratification that happiness bestows upon those who beseech it. It's only natural, only human for someone to crave happiness.
And crave happiness Mary did.
She was a simple child, who favored the simple joys in life, so it didn't take much to please her. She was happy with her life. She was happy celebrating her birthday every year, she was happy with helping her mother tend to the rose garden, she was happy with watching her father working, and she was just happy with the way things were. The way things always were.
And yet, despite all those simple pleasures, despite all of the felicity in her life… something was missing. Perhaps she had grown tired of the same thing every day, or maybe even her interests had strayed from the path she was following at this given moment?
Or maybe it was just human nature once more rearing its ugly head – craving for more when it already had so much.
It had been a warm day, right in the middle of May when her favorite yellow roses were in bloom and the apricots and cherries in the orchard were ripe for the picking. The air was heavy with spring in the air and everything was delectably sweet – perfect. It was a good crop season and everything was flourishing, the year was fertile. And Momma was too.
It was on this day, this wonderful day; Momma had sat her down in the garden and told her.
"I'm pregnant – you are finally getting the little sister you always wanted."
Mary remembers that moment perfectly – remembers the sparkle in her mother's eye, remembers the gasp that had escaped from her lips, remembers indulging in the feel of complete and utter happiness. This is what had been missing – what she had craved for. Nothing in the world could make her happier.
As Spring flew by, and the wheat in the fields burned golden and the tomatoes bled from green to red, so too did her mother ripen – her stomach swelling as the baby grew ever bigger inside of her.
Mary was the epitome of the perfect child, she helped Momma whenever she could, she'd pick the plants from the garden so her Momma wouldn't have to kneel in the dirt, would heave the heavy dinner plates from the cupboard to the dinner table every night, and then at night she would curl up in bed – both her Momma and Papa beside her and they would share stories of what they believed her sister to be would be like.
Joy – that was what her sister's name would be. It was a unanimous decision that she and her family had all agreed on whole heartedly. Momma hoped she would have Mary's hair – the curly, golden locks she had inherited from her father, and Papa hoped she would have Momma's eyes – a chestnut hazel that would change with the seasons. Joy would be smart, kind, and beautiful. Mary couldn't wait to meet her baby sister.
Like Spring, Summer too whisked by and the leaves on the trees grew to be beautiful shades of reds and golden yellows. The vegetables in the garden had rotted and the flowers wilted, and small animals scavenged the yard in search of nuts and autumn berries they could stock up with for the ever daunting winter on the horizon.
Likewise, Mary's family was preparing themselves for something – but not for the horrors of winter, rather the birth of a new life, a new family member. Mary and Papa worked vigorously to baby-proof the house, all the while tending to Momma who laughed with happiness as they doted on her, claiming that it was too early for her to constantly be off her feet. It was the beginning of October, just a month and a half before Joy would come join them. They were all so happy – nothing in the world could ruin the momentous occasion that would soon befall them.
But… Happiness comes with a price. And as it is, all good things must come to an end.
On a particularly chilly October day, when the pumpkins in the garden had just reached the peak of existence – the unforgettable happened.
Mary had been on her way home from school, wearing her favorite green dress, warm blue mittens on her hands, and a matching wool scarf woven around her neck. Leaves crunched under her feet and the wind whipped at her hair and nipped at her ears.
Today would be a good day –Momma was making her famous pumpkin-carrot soup. It was a sort of tradition of theirs, something they did every year when both orange vegetables were ripe for the picking.
When she entered their small, one story home, her senses were immediately assaulted by the rich aromatic fragrance of the soup and the house felt wonderfully warm – she could hear the crackling of wood from the fire place.
"Momma!" she called, as she unwound her scarf from her neck, "I'm home~"
Papa wouldn't be home for another couple hours, and this was always her favorite part of having pumpkin carrot soup. Mary would always come home from school and then help Momma with the finishing touches of her favorite dinner.
With a smile of complete and utter happiness she skipped from the entrance room to the kitchen, only to come to a screeching halt at the sight before her – her school bag dropping from her hands and clattering to the floor with a resounding thud.
There… There was something terribly wrong. A trail of orange ooze seeped across the floor; her Momma's large cooking pot lying on its side on the ground, its precious nectar spilled out over the lip of the bowl.
Her body shook as she walked further into the kitchen, cautiously peering around the kitchen counter which blocked her view from the rest of the kitchen. As she stepped further into the room, she could see first, long locks of chestnut brown hair – splayed out across the floor. And then there was her mother's hand, and then her arm, and her face, her body, her still - unmoving form sprawled out across the kitchen floor.
And Mary screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed. She fell to her knees and frantically crawled towards her mother, her shaking hands finding purchase in her mother's apron as she sobbed and sobbed. Desperately crying and screaming for Momma to get up, yelling that this was no place to sleep when she had a baby in her belly.
She screamed until her voice died out, til her father came home to see her – eyes wide and pupils dilated from shock. He pulled her kicking and fighting from his grasp away from her mother – away from Joy, until it all became too much, until the exhaustion finally overwhelmed her and wrapped her in blissful, blissful darkness.
As the seasons pass, and the flowers emerge from the soft soil and plants ripen, so too does the human body. And just as the flowers wilt and the fruits and vegetables rot – so too must humans. It is the course of nature. Unrelenting and ever prominent – death dwells over the horizon, biding its time in the nooks and crannies of the world, waiting to sink its razor sharp claws into the soft, and exposed flesh of those it deems ripe for the picking.