Mamaya In English Novels & Stories

Before Ruby got her fucking hands on her. Mam reached up and brushed my cheek with her fingers, "it’s nice seeing you like this." "Like what?" Mama smiled, "happy. Alsof je hier thuis hoort. [Like you belong.]" "Misschien kan jij hier ook gelukkig zijn. [Maybe you can be happy here too." I replied. Mama looked down, "misschien. [maybe.]"

Maya groaned as she heard the annoying voice of the machine she was grown familiar with; She tried to open her eyes but the pain in the back of her head did not let the message reach her nervous system smoothly. After a few more attempts; She finally opened her eyes a little only to close them again; the urge to fall back to sleep was tempting but she needed water. blinking a few times; She finally opened her eyes to see her brother sitting across the bed; smiling faintly at her as her blurred vision made her see him. " hey aya ( nanny ) " her brother teased; he called her ' Aaya ' instead of Maya from their childhood.

---- Two weeks later, Somewhere in-country J, ken was getting ready to go to the new restaurant that he established last year. He named it according to what Eiji suggested to him 'Ma-Sa-Ya' when translated in English it means happy. He learned about this word from one of his classmates in college who is a half-Filipino living in country J. It was the same restaurant where they celebrated Eiji's birthday and graduation celebration.

Her dark hair was getting longer, curling slightly at the ends, and those serious eyes that reminded me so much of James were starting to show more of her personality. Curious. Determined. Fearless. "Mamamamama!" The word stopped my heart. Emma was looking right at me, holding up her ball with a triumphant smile. "Mamamamama!" I must have made some kind of sound because Maria looked over at me with knowing eyes. "First time?" she asked gently. I nodded, not trusting my voice. Emma had been saying "Dada" since she arrived, and it broke my heart every time because I knew she was calling for James. But this...

Is this his way of punishing me? "Anyway, have fun, Beauty. I'll talk to you again. Bye!" Mamita waved her hand in dismissal, and I could no longer answer her back. . c.m. louden

“Are you okay with this?” I nodded. “Yeah. I think so.” The woman turned. “I am Mara but in our language they call me Moar’ahii. Come with me.” We followed her into the village. People stared at us but not in a mean way, they looked curious. Some smiled. A little girl ran up and gave me a flower. I took it. It smelled sweet. Mara led us to a house near the big fire. Inside it was cool. Mats on the floor. A small table. The smell of bread and meat.

(“Witch hazel.” I tossed the bottle. It clattered, too loud. The motion ripped a hiss from my teeth. “Cuidado (“Careful.”),” she warned. Same tone she’d used when I’d skinned my knees racing bikes through the bayou. “Why’s she still out?” My voice grated like gravel, each word a knife in my ribs. “El dolor es demasiado (The pain is too much.),” Mamá murmured, dabbing the wounds. “Y tú… respira. (And you… breathe.)”

But the moment she looked at the screen, hope fizzled out. It wasn’t Eric. It was her mother. Maya swallowed hard, forcing down the sudden urge to cry before answering the call and lifting the phone to her ear. “Hey, Mom,” she said, trying to sound normal. On the other end of the line came the warm, familiar voice she had known all her life. “Anak, how are you doing?” Amihan Cruz asked gently. The word anak—child—wrapped around Maya like a soft blanket. For a brief moment, it made everything feel a little less overwhelming.

She stood up, walked towards the door, and opened it, To reveal one of the Luna Queen's maids. “ Amaria, the Queen has requested an audience with you,” The maid said, staring at her with a contemptuous look. “ It's' Lady Amaria', not Amaria and don't look at me like that, you're just a maid so act like one” Amaria replied angrily as she walked out of the room. The maid nodded slowly with a tiny glint of anger in her eyes as she watched Amaria walk away,' hmph! You think you will last in this castle, just wait and watch' The maid thought.

“Hi, Gerri. I’m Amaya Zara, but everyone calls me Maya.” “Oh, what a beautiful name! Where does it come from?” “I think the origin is Arabic,” she laughed. “Which is strange since my parents are Latinos. But it means night rain, and I think that’s seen as good luck, so I’ll take it.” “Night rain. I like that.” Gerri glanced at her bare feet and laughed. “Busy night?” She leaned back on the elevator and sighed. “You have no idea. Don’t ever let your co-workers set you up with anyone. Trust me here—you always end up with a loser who has mommy issues.”