Mother And Son Analysis Novels & Stories

His face was practically curdling with disgust. Right on cue, Mona swooped in, all graceful, like she was rehearsing for a soap opera. She laid this delicate, supportive hand on his shoulder, pretending to look sympathetic. "She is your biological mother, after all," she sighed. "Maybe I should be the one to leave. I'm just the outsider here." "Don't say that!" Henry interrupted, way too fast. "You're the one who's been a real mother to me. This woman? She's the one who forced her way between you and my father. She's the real home-wrecker."

"Her daughter died, and she didn't even notice. What kind of mother is that?" "I'll never force my kid to study again. Their happiness matters more than grades." "You're right. I'm canceling my son's tutoring classes tonight." … Seeing the flood of messages, I couldn't help but smile. For the first time, I felt truly free. Mom kept muttering to herself, "I loved her. I gave her everything. I only wanted her to be perfect. What did I do wrong?" "Perfect?" Chris asked sharply. "Ms. Hills, do you even know who you loved? Was it the perfect daughter you imagined, or the real Elsa, the one who could feel joy, sorrow, and pain?"

I had seen this mother and son scene before. “You are clearly invading on my space, mother. Should I welcome you to join us?” he retorted and I gasped. That was cruel, ruthless and disrespectful. For a moment, I could not hear his mother’s voice, and I could tell that she had gone speechless and was probably glaring at the son that she gave birth to. “Is your wife still unwilling to speak to me?” she cleared her throat and spoke. I sighed, forgetting that I was even doing that with her. Honestly, that was not the reason why I was not looking at her. I was just too embarrassed to.

After that, she sat on the couch, holding my portrait as she waited for death to claim her. I glided over and looked at her. Her breathing was getting faster, and her pupils started to dilate. Her lips were dyed a striking red. "Why did you do that, Mom? Do you think death will grant you my understanding?" 'It will not. I will never forgive you!' I thought vehemently. My mother's life was slipping away, and so was the vague connection tying me to her. I glided to the house's entrance. The moment I was at the entrance, the connection was no more. My mother called out to me, "Jessica!" She was careful, but there was ecstasy in her eyes.

My mother, Sophie Nash, was also my homeroom teacher, and she loved nothing more than using me to assert her authority. She was convinced that the worse off I was, the more afraid my classmates would be, and the higher her authority would be. Once, when I passed an eraser to a classmate during class, she slapped me so hard across the face in front of the whole class that my face swelled up. Another time, after I secretly ate a crumb of a classmate’s snack during recess, my mom dragged me up to the front of the classroom and pricked my lip with a needle until blood gushed out. Later, when a classmate was caught by the vice principal for having a romantic relationship while underaged, my m

"No, I don't…" When she lifted her head again and met his eyes, he let out a piercing scream. How could he not, when what he saw was the face of his mother? The same mother who'd been dead for over a decade.

I looked at the three people standing across from me. They looked exactly like a real family, while I was left playing the villain. “I’m losing my mind, Edmund? Aren’t you two the ones who drove me to this? “You swore before God that you would love me and only me for the rest of your life. You knew perfectly well that my mother died because of my father’s infidelity. You knew an unfaithful husband was the one thing I loathe above all else.

Mom hadn't been this excited about anything in a long while, which saddens me especially on days I had to see her drink heavily while getting a hangover the next morning. “Hart!” Mom called like a teenager getting out from her sliver Honda with a big smile on her face. Mr Blackwood expression softened immediately at the sound of her voice. He approached her, giving her a soft kiss on her cheek, while keeping his hand on her back. His eyes came to rest on me and Joey who slowly followed after her, giving me a clearer look at what he looked like outside the photo mom showed me, suddenly making so much sense why Mom had fallen fast for him.

“Keep them coming.” The first one scorched. The second numbed. By the third, the fire in my chest loosened into something resembling release. I stared at the empty glass and thought of my mother, sitting at our kitchen table with her wedding ring still on after my father left her for another woman. She used to whisper to me, Never trust too much. People always show their teeth eventually. I should have listened. But love, love makes fools out of even doctors who spend their lives diagnosing problems. I couldn’t diagnose my own heartbreak until it was terminal.

“It’s difficult never knowing the people you came from, and the bond between mother and son is so unique that it…it’s a horrible thing to lose.” Kael turned and met my eyes intensely. “The Moon Goddess is strange, bringing us together.” He said. “I know how it feels to be a son without a mother and you know how it feels to be a mother without her child.” I swallowed hard, waiting for him to continue. I expected him to finish with something cutting, some further comment about the ‘bastard’ child I aborted or something else against my character. I waited for a long moment, but the edge I expected never came.