The soul of the soulless

2 pm, after days of rain, rays from the sun finally shine on Bourke street, the busiest street in Melbourne. In contrast to the hustle and bustle of city life and the excitement of people chatting, Mia Harper is sitting soullessly in the corner, right in front of tram 96, with her baby lying on the pram, next to a teddy bear.

She is wearing a worn-out t-shirt with mid-length jeans, which seem like they come from a man’s closet and are quite flimsy for the 15-Degree weather. Right next to her, the pram is completely covered with a quilt, her baby is wearing a thick yellow hand-knitted sweater, a Minions beanie and banana-patterned socks.

Three years ago, she got married to a man named David. They worked together in the same company and fell for each other at first sight.

Just one year after that, she gave birth to a little angel, her husband got promoted, and they decided to buy their first house. “That year was the best year of my life,” she says with a lump in her throat.

When Angie officially turned one, they moved to their new house after renovation. On that day, they were supposed to have a housewarming party with their family and friends, they were supposed to have fun.

But that day never came.

Her husband and daughter got on a moving truck while she drove their car. She arrived at their new house at 10 am, excitedly waiting for her family. One hour later, when she was about to call her husband, she received a phone call from the police announcing that her husband and daughter had an accident and could not make it. “I died on that day too,” she bursts into tears.

“Now I am just surviving, waiting for days to pass by,” she sighs. “I can not kill myself because of our wedding vow.”

She constantly checks on her daughter while talking. She shrinks, she cries but her baby lies still.

Her baby can not move, can not cry, can not talk, can not smile.

Her baby is not breathing.

Her baby is a mannequin.

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*All the names of characters were changed to protect their privacy*