written by
Marina Christmartha
(Penerima Beasiswa Unggulan KEMDIKNAS di Perguruan Tinggi STBA LIA Jakarta tahun 2012)
The Snowflake Teardrop
December 24th,2014 01.00 PM
I frowned as I stirred the dough roughly. I pouted and stomped, feeling want to cry. My mother just looked at me patiently as she brought out several cupcakes from the oven. We never kept away from thiskitchen, baking cupcakes for the whole life on this rickety big old gas oven inherited by my grandma. I was bored, really bored. I wanted to hang out with my friends. They have asked me to go out for shopping new dresses for this Christmas. I’d like to, but I didn’t have money. I knew that dresses sold at the boutique were so expensive, for me. I actually had saved my money, but eventually I had got to spend it for helping my mother paying my school’s fee. Our cupcakes sale’s income was so poor recently that made my school’s fee was in arrears for several months. Poor me. I finally let my hunger-restrained effort at school to pay my education’s need, whereas it was herresponsibility. Now, I just could look sadly through the window of the kitchen, watching the children playing snow and some of people my age were walking holding the plastic bag of the new dresses. I also could see Mrs. Thomas came back to her house with a full bag of groceries and meats to cook this night. I wanted to feel that warm ambience of Christmas. But, I could not.
“Marie, have you added the baking powder? ... Ough!!” asked my mother, Margaret, as she was shocked pulling her hand after touching the hot mold accidentally.
