Trevor Noah And His Mom Novels & Stories

The content of the message made her frown in confusion. Trisha: Hey, Crystal. I've got something for you. It's tickets to the music festival I told you about two months ago? Well, you see, I can't use them anymore. An emergency came up. My parents got involved in an accident, but it's not severe. Martha isn't in the country, so I don't have anyone to give the tickets to. So, I'm giving you two tickets to the festival. Maybe you can go with your husband. I already emailed the tickets to you. You'll get a wristband at the ticket booth at the festival. Have fun!

"Actually... He..." "Actually Aunt, we both want your permission to be together. I mean... That way" Noah interrupted. He is way too straightforward, isn't he? "Oh.. Ah... Really? Noah?" my mom asked me. What does she mean by that? "Yea" I replied. Noah looked quite sad hearing her reaction. He doesn't know my mom!! "That's FANTASTIC! I am so happy for you, Astrid. Noah is a very good boy" she said.

she whispered like he wouldn’t hear through the phone. “Yes, Mom. That’s Noah.” “He’s cuter than I expected,” she whispered again, and I rolled my eyes for the second time in two minutes. Noah smirked. “Tell her I said hi.” “She says you’re cute,” I muttered. “I try my best,” he said with a wink, and I regretted everything. “I’ll let you go,” Mom said, her grin now stretching across her face. “But we’re going to talk about all of this when you get back. Don’t disappear on me again.”

“Happy birthday, Myra.” My mother cried. “I remembered it this time… These are your favorite flowers.” My father squatted before the grave and wiped my photo using his handkerchief. He was so gentle, as if he were afraid to wake me up. “Myra, I was wrong…” he whispered with a sob. “I shouldn’t have said that you were dilly-dallying… I shouldn’t have continued my journey… Please forgive me…” Mandy placed another small bouquet of white flowers, and Matthew placed his favorite toy car. The grass at the cemetery was rustled by the wind, and the sound it made sounded like a response or a sigh.

"What are you crying about? Your cousin didn't do it on purpose! Are you really going to make a big deal out of kids roughhousing? And so what if you've got a scar now? You're already so plain, it's not like it'll make a difference." From that day on, the scar had stayed with me, a permanent mark on my body, just like the gloom that had shadowed the rest of my life. My soul watched a flicker of doubt cross my mother's eyes. She kept working to smooth out my features, but a phone call cut her off mid-motion. She glanced at the screen, saw Kyle's name, and her eyes instantly softened. "Hey there, Kyle. I'm coming right home. What's wrong?"

After another ten minutes, which seemed like an eternity to Trevor, a doctor stepped out of the room. He hurried to him, "How is my mom?!" The doctor let out a deep breath. He shook his head slightly, and his eyes bored into Trevor's. "I'm sorry, we tried our best, but we lost her." Trevor's head reeled. His heart smacked wildly in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His throat constricted, and he puffed out a breath. "I'm sorry, dear; you need to be strong."

In the spot that once was mine. Suddenly Noah looked over at the frame. “That’s our new photo,” he said proudly. I tried to smile. “Yes, Mommy sees it.” But that smile slowly faded, and I couldn’t stop the question that slipped out, a quiet sigh more than anything. “Why isn’t Mommy in that photo too?” Noah shrugged casually, as if the answer was simple. “Mommy doesn’t belong in it, right? Mommy’s not part of the family anymore.”

I was holding a lollipop in one of my hands. The photo had been taken a year before Dad passed away. Mom had taken me to the park. It was the happiest photo of me that Mom had. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked at the photo. She mumbled, "I'm taking you home with me, Claire. No one will ridicule you ever again. No one will bully you ever again either." Her voice was soft as if she was coaxing a sleeping child. … After the funeral was over, Mom brought my ashes home. She placed the urn on my desk in my room.

Today was a Sunday. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Julian holding onto a large photo album. He acted casually, slipping through the door crack and sat on the couch. It was as if he had forgotten that he had called me to beg for his forgiveness the last time he was here. Julian flipped open the photo album and pulled me over. "Look, Mommy—this was when I was still in your tummy! And this was when I was just born! Aren't I cute? Grandma said I was the cutest baby in the entire hospital!"

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I need time to talk to my mom about my relationship with Noah. I was dating someone back home before. My mom was supportive, but there was a bit of a problem, and we broke up. So..." "Your mom is still hoping you get back together with your ex..." I nodded. "Hmm, yeah." Noah looked away, but I knew he was listening. "What do you think, Noah?" Mr. Adam turned to his son. "What?" Noah straightened up. "Casey's mother is still hoping she'll get back with her ex. Are you okay with that?" Umh, this was getting too serious. Noah shouldn't have to deal with my past relationships, but, whatever. I'll see how this conversation plays out.