Novel & Cerita Short Stories Motherhood

“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

But nothing prepared me to this day, where he proved he’s that creature too. Deep emotion tore through me. And I struggle to breath, I am the mother who wanted to run, The one who love her baby with the kind of love that hurt. The kind that made you stay up until 2 am taking shifts and scrubbing floors so she could have new shoes. The kind that made you lie to your own mother so she wouldn’t worry. The kind that also made you kneel in front of a man who could destroy you both, just to buy one more chance.

"You didn't care that Julia was suffering from severe heatstroke. You didn't believe it when a student reported her condition to you. You even stopped Mr. Hodge when he was trying to save her! So you're afraid that people might accuse you of playing favorites, huh?" Dad slowly stepped closer to Mom. "Congratulations. You made it. No one will dare accuse you of playing favorites now. "Everyone in this world now knows that you, Monica Campbell, are the strictest and most impartial woman alive—and you achieved that by sacrificing your daughter's life. How the hell are you even fit to be called a mother?" He practically shouted at the last few words. Mom's knees buckled, and her body slid right

She sneaked behind the door and listened to their conversion. Clifford : Anyway mum, I came here to give you good news. Mad. Flora : Really? Let's hear it. Clifford (smiling) : Mum, am going to be a father. Rosie is pregnant. Mad. Flora : What! Is that true? Mad. Flora was so excited and hugged his son. Mad. Flora : So where is she now? Clifford : At the hospital. Mad. Flora : What happened to her?

Victor’s mother was still shrieking on the phone. The Ricci family had spent five generations barely surviving at the edge of obscurity. If Victor hadn’t married me—the only daughter of the Messina family—they would never have tasted the lifestyle they now took for granted. The Messinas didn’t climb society. We built parts of it. Victor’s mother had once been homeless—no better off than the addicts sleeping under bridges. Now, she hurled filth at me over the phone, every word as foul as sewage. I muted my phone and placed it face-down on the desk.

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

She marveled at the way her strength had grown, expanding like the gentle ripples of a pond. And then, on a quiet night, in the glow of the moon's gentle caress, Marvis's world transformed. The cries of her newborn filled the air, erasing all traces of solitude and birthing a love so fierce, that it eclipsed the darkness that had once consumed her. In that precious moment, as she held her child close, Marvis knew that she had embarked on her most challenging and rewarding journey yet - the journey of motherhood.

I don’t know, nor do I care what his issues are, but I can’t wait to move out of my parent’s house and in with my mate. Seeing the magazine seems to have the effect I want it to have. “Stop calling me stupid. I’m top of our class, while you’re almost last. I’m not the one that made us late, again. I hope your mate is strong, both mentally and physically. After tomorrow you won’t have mommy to take care of you.” Mom turns around to step in to defend her baby boy. The good thing is I’ve gotten used to tuning her out. Focusing back on the kid's bedtime story, I always thought it was made up until my second year of Veil studies at Uni. Boy oh boy was I mistaken.

“You wouldn’t die for her.” “Of course I would,” Adam argued. “I love Rain. I’d do anything for her.” She said nothing, only prodded him along. “Haven’t you ever loved anyone before, Mother?” “No.” Her answer came quickly enough that time, “Not a person. Only the country. Only the Motherhood.” Before he could even consider what her reaction might be, Adam found himself saying, “That’s really sad.” “No, it’s not,” she said in her own defense. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be a part of something like the Motherhood, to know that I’m fulfilling the destiny of all womankind.”

I was alone myself in my room thinking about my old life when things were easier and people were nicer. When I couldn't sleep, my mother would come tell me bedtime stories to me as she sat beside my bed. I recalled a specific story my mother used to tell, about a courageous wolf that defied all obstacles to defend the people he loved. The brave wolf Luna, the protagonist of the tale, had to overcome unfathomable obstacles in a world where danger was there at every turn. But like the moon that kept watch over him, he persisted, his strength and will unshakeable.