When Your Mother Doesn't Novels & Stories

I need some answers to my questions and the only person who can help me find the answers is my mother. I didn't knock on the door this time.I pushed the door open and walked into her room.She was on the wheelchair as usual, looking at the flower garden through the window. "Didn't I ever teach you how to knock?"I clenched my hands into a tight fists.My mother turned around slowly with her wheelchair and looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Why didn't you ever tell us that we have a forbidden bother?"My mother froze when she heard my words…

But my mother stepped in between us, her actions bewildering me. "What are you doing mother, he hurt you right? That's why you were crying" I inquired, my uncertainty evident as I observed the scene before me. "No, he didn't hurt me, Austin. He was actually comforting me," my mother replied, attempting to clarify the situation. "Why?" I pressed, still struggling to grasp the circumstances unfolding in front of me. "Because you've stopped paying attention to me," my mother whined, her frustration apparent. "I'm an adult now, mother. I don't have to listen to you all the time to do what you ask," I retorted matter-of-factly, accompanied by an eye roll. Her penchant for dramatics when things di

Mom: Cole my boy (sobbing) Me: What is it? Mom: Cole, don’t be like that. You are all I have now. Don’t ignore me too. Me: What do you want? Mom: Cole, (sobbing) Cole, you know all I ever did was for you. Please my boy, don’t neglect your mother too. You are all I have please. Me: What is it? Mom: All I need is you Cole. Nobody wants anything to do with me anymore. They all wish me death, Cole please don’t join them to cast stones at your mother.

Universe contest. "You don't have a choice, mother, you don't even have a right to meddle with my life. Who are you to meddle with my life? Who are you to interfere with my life? You are nothing but my mother, if you like that woman so much then you can go ahead and get married to her"

4 No matter how clearly I see it all in my mind, I’m not always sure how true what my mother tells me really is. How bad it was, I mean. Memories have a way of getting uglier when they’re of someone or something we don’t like. It’s not like my mother starved to death, or lost her teeth from malnutrition when she was carrying me, or died giving birth to me, so she must’ve had some kind of help. That Man must’ve been doing something for her. For us. Or, someone had to.

During a holiday, when I told my mother that my boyfriend would be coming to my house, her expression darkened. Tears welled up in her eyes as she touched my face and said in a hoarse voice, “Oh my God... Thank God you’re still alive. “Do you remember what day this is? This time, I’m not letting you die.” She acted as if she were possessed and screamed at me hysterically, “He’s a serial killer! We’ll all die if he comes today. Last time around, I was the only one left!” I believed her. I broke up with him and called the police to have him arrested. I let out a sigh of relief as I watched him get taken away, and my mother revealed a triumphant smile. She then said calmly, “That’s that.

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

To win the money for my heart surgery, my mother—a PhD in artificial intelligence—entered a televised quiz show. After answering nine questions correctly, she faced the easiest one: “What does AI stand for?” “Alien Internet,” she answered. Everyone froze. It was the final question, and the prize money was the only thing that could save my life. The host gave her another chance. My family begged her to reconsider. Doctors warned that my heart could stop at any moment. But my mother refused to change her answer. She thought this was the perfect time to teach our family a lesson. She never knew my heart was about to give out. I couldn't wait for her anymore.

I d‍idn't​ answer. "Bec​aus​e part of you knows t​he‌re's nowhere to go‌. No one to go⁠ to.⁠ Your‍ mother sol​d you. Yo‌ur fa‍mily er‌ased yo​u. Y​ou jump out that wi​ndow and run into the forest, you'll die ou​t ther‌e alone. And some part of you knows‌ that'⁠s worse than staying." "S⁠hut up‍."

I explained in a small voice. "Miscounted?" Mom spat, interrupting me. "You're the only one who didn't get anything. She was probably annoyed that you were trying to get one. Why must you be so greedy? You're so embarrassing! Will you only be satisfied when everyone ridicules me for raising such a greedy daughter?" A wave of stress crashed into me. I dug my nails into my arms and scratched myself until my skin turned raw and bloody. However, I didn't feel even an ounce of comfort.