My Mama Told Me When I Was Young Novels & Stories

I watch my young self gulp with worry. “That’s right. But they’re nothing for you to worry yourself over, my love,” my mother turns to face the child, “-they’re long gone and forgotten with time.” “Are you sure?” the little girl murmurs. “I’m sure.” “So, what happened then?” my younger self diverts their attention back towards the story, satisfied with her mother's answer.

I was happy we had each other. "I can't wait to be 18 tomorrow," I told my mom excitedly. My mamma would always tell me when I turn 18; I would become an adult and would no longer be a child. It may be stupid not being able to wait until I was 18 but I knew once I am, mamma could not stop me from staying too long in the river or being a little too far from the house for I was now an adult. Sadness covered my heart as I saw within my mamma brown eyes great worries.

I assure her. “I just want to who touched you. You said you were told that you belong to a master? Tell me about it." I urge. “Well, when I was younger. My mum told me everything about mates, but she said that unfortunately, I wasn't granted a mate." I nod my head, paying close attention to her words. “Okay, go on."

“You’re not my mother.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to tell myself or her. “My mother is dead. She died when I was eight years old.” I bit my bottom lip to keep them from trembling. “My dad killed her. He told me himself so don’t even think that for a second that I believe you.”

Days passed like that, one after another. They stopped giving me random commands. But without a command, I just sat there, from sunrise to sunset, like a machine on standby. Every day, Mom sat beside me and told me stories from when I was little. She told me about the first time I said "Mama" at age three, how she'd spun me around in joy. She told me about the time I stole her lipstick at five and drew all over the wall, how she'd stayed up half the night scrubbing it off.

It didn't seem so. “Your mother told me about it,” My mother?

my lips trembled with every word that came out of my mouth. I remembered what happened. "Crystal, you're going to stay here, huh? Don't you ever leave this closet. Your dad is coming so we can be saved from the bad people," I still remember everything Mama said. Since I was small and had no idea what was going on around me, I just nodded and followed Mama. I don’t make a noise and stay hidden in a closet. Mama was outside while I was inside but because there was a hole in the cupboard I could still see what was happening.

I told mom, worriedly. If papu founds out that the news was all fake then he might end up collapsing in shake, hearing the news did not literally shake him because I remember telling papu that I'll give him a grandchild soon-- well that was supposed to be a joke since my papu always brought that baby topic on out conversation so I just joked to make him stop. "Do what's right." This is what my mother told me to do. And by my mom's word, my imagination suddenly flashes in front of me as if I'm using multimedia with my eyes.

We tried the merry go round first, because I've always loved the merry go round, twirling round and round on a unicorn as past memories hit me like a brick wall ~~~~~ "Hey, mama. Look at me, I'm flying", I screamed in my childish garble at my mum who stood by the sidelines, watching me with a beautiful smile on her face, our black hair packed back away from her face. "Mama, my horsie said it loves you", I announced as the ride ended and I ran into my mum's open arms, her familiar perfume surrounding me as she engulfed me in a hug and I knew I never had to worry about anything as long as I was in Mama's arms.

Eventually she would fall asleep or pass out. It wasn’t until I was in grade school that I learned that Mama was quoting the bible with her talk of evil and money. I didn’t grow up knowing the bible or the good Lord. Father Montgomery never was nice to Mama. Even as a kid, I knew it. He would call her the town bicycle when he ran across us on the street. Mama would then call him some rather inventive things that would cause his ugly old face to turn a rotten shade of puce. As angry as she would be, I secretly loved to see her fighting back. It was in those moments that I felt like my mama was fierce and strong.