Short Stories Motherhood Novels & Stories

My mom’s willingness to listen hyped me up. And so the longer conversation started. I told her about how I met Flynn, Max, and Conan. I also mentioned to her my friends back in Canada. How much twisted Max’s family story is and she tells me her stories that are similar to my encounters. Now the more I think about it this isn’t a test of greed it is like a love test between me and my mom which isn’t supposed to be tested because a mother’s love has always been there. It will never fade and will even keep on growing. I wonder if that’s how I would have felt if that baby of mine survived. I felt so guilty losing that baby and I never once forgot about it. It's just that, if he or she ever survi

********************** Some months later ********************** I have been avoiding Mazi for so long to no avail, I really regretted what happened between us in the past however I'm really pressured right now. My petty business is not enough to pay my rent, cloth, or feed Sarah and me, not to talk of Sarah's school fees. The hours I spent under the sun has made my skin darker and wrinkled, I don't wear makeup anymore and it used to be one of my favorite things in the world. Sarah would soon be eight years but she has matured beyond her age because of the circumstances revolving around us, I have failed her as a mother. "Mum, I'm hungry." Sarah's soft voice broke my reverie.

My mother is one that you cannot read,she behaves in a so and so way that I don't even understand, we live in the same house but we do not speak to other,I feel she's like that from the violence she receives. You spoke of the assignment everyday,you wanted to understand us,to know about our family and relationship with friend. You told us about you,you can't have a child,it sounded pitiful but I didn't pity you,I envied you.Because it is better not to have a child than to be like my pitiable mom. Have you heard of family secrets,things you're never supposed to share with people outside your home,I'm about to share one with you.

I mused, my gaze fixed on the mesmerizing dance of the flames. The lines etched deep on Mother Tanna's face softened, revealing the wisdom she had gained from a lifetime of experiences. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine, her touch grounding me in the safety of her presence. "My dear, a mother's love is a divine gift, a sacred bond that transcends the realm of reason," she began, her voice holding the weight of countless untold stories. "It is an instinctual force, one that pushes us to protect and nurture our children with an unparalleled fervor."

She says tensing her body towards me like she is ready for a fight. "My mother got pregnant and dealt with her difficult pregnancy by herself, she was in labor with me for forty-nine hours by herself, she raised me by herself. All while some joke lived his life like she never existed. After she had me she got sick and got an infection, leaving her no way to ever have children again. She figured no man would ever want her, so she just took care of me. We struggled for years and years with no help at all. That's what men do. They use, abuse and leave. It's in their code." She says with a final breath.

"As much as I'd love that trip down memory lane, don't use it to deflect" "You would say that to me when I was feeling very tired" she ignored me and continued being a mother I had always dreamed of, "your cute little arms would knead my body, it felt so good" "Mum stop it" Mum was terrible at telling childhood stories, not in a bad way it’s just that she made want to go back in time and have a look at whatever version of me she was narrating. "You'd get me water and anything I asked for', I'm so sorry I kind of ruined that for us...'"

"What did that guy do to her?" "What didn't he do, damn it? But love just makes you an idiot, that's all I can say. Although, with the woman he got, I'm surprised she didn't kill him sooner. I'll just tell you it's very similar to what happened with your parents; the mafia guy ended up being tamed by a petite woman." He starts laughing, and my laughter joins his because I know it's true; my mother, despite being so short, can silence my father with just a glance.

I even wondered if she had really gone mad. "You treated me the same way too when I was little, no?" Mom suddenly stopped laughing. The memories of her childhood, as described by her, became fragmented and cruel. It turned out that when Mom was a child, my grandfather eloped with someone else because Grandma couldn't give birth to a son. During that time, Grandma must have lost her sanity and would beat and scold Mom every day. Therefore, in Mom's memory, giving birth to a daughter was a misfortune, and keeping a husband was an instinct all women had.

The baby was in the nursery with my mother, being told stories about a man who had kept bees for patience. One year. The best year. More.

“Arthur thinks wealth is a fortress. He doesn't get that a fortress is a prison with a nicer view. I want Hannah to know the smell of rain on soil, not the smell of air conditioning, in a penthouse.” The words on the page started to blur as a sensation rose behind my eyes. I held the edges of the journal the leather feeling cool and old against my palms. It was like I was holding something that belonged to a ghost. For twenty-five years my mother had been a story that my fathers team had controlled. They made her sound like a person who died too soon.. The woman who wrote in these pages did not sound like that. She sounded like someone who was trapped and finally found a way