Your Momma So Short Novels & Stories

" Dad suddenly gasped for air and collapsed straight to the ground. Ethan caught him just in time, but he didn't stop yelling at me. "Your mom did all that because she loved you. She would give her life for you without hesitation, and this is how you talk about her? Mark my words, Rosie Mitchell! Karma will catch up to you." As the crowd around us grew, I rolled my eyes. "You're not the one about to die, so why are you all so anxious? I know she's my mother. Maybe you should ask her if she'd want me to break the rules." I turned and pretended to ask into the ward.

"This can't be healthy," "Nothing is healthy. People die whether they drink a mega pint or not," Ginger said snorting inside the glass, creating bubbles in the wine. "Right," Mom said settling herself down, next to Boraxip who immediately wrapped an arm around her tiny frame. The size difference between my mother and Boraxip was a little disturbing to watch. She looked like a kid sitting next to him. I didn't dwell on it though. "You guys must be wondering why we're here," Mom looked at all of us. "I, uh," she turned to Boraxip briefly who nodded. "Boraxip wanted to share something with you all," I frowned at that, watching the man of the hour.

His lips felt hot against her skin, a painful contrast to the frost in his eyes. "Pleased to meet you, Mommy," Xavier whispered, emphasizing the word with deep mockery. As he pulled back, he leaned slightly toward her, close enough for his sharp, masculine scent to overwhelm her senses. "You look very expensive tonight, Elara. How much did my father pay to make you kneel at his feet?" Elara’s blood ran cold. "Xavier, how is this possible?" she whispered, barely audible. "Nothing is impossible, Mom. We’ve been reunited, haven't we? You walked right into your own hell," he hissed intimidatingly.

"Xavi ? " " Mama ." ©#KCMmuoe

After a couple of seconds, she muttered, "Mommy?" "Yes, love." "Why do we never call, Daddy? Not even once? My friends and classmates, whenever they miss their mom and daddy, they will be calling them....what do you call that, Mommy?" "They use social media." "Yes! That's it, Mommy." Her eyes lit up as if an excellent idea came into her mind. "Why don't we call Daddy, Mommy? I want to see him! I want to hear his voice!" she exclaimed and jumped on her seat.

Four years passed. ~"You might have a mom, she might be the bomb But ain't nobody got a mom like mine Her love's 'til the end, she's my best friend Ain't nobody got a mom like mine" ~ Dancing to the tune of "Mom" by Meghan Trainor, the children danced in simple steps to appreciate their mommies on Mother's Day. This was a gathering that Amara had organized for the mothers in their family and close friends.

When I entered the living room, Mom was warmly embracing Tara and speaking to her softly. When they noticed me, Mom’s smile instantly faded. "Gosh Serena, you did that on purpose! If you weren’t coming, fine. But now, coming here an hour late and making it awkward for everyone else?" In truth, I hadn’t meant to. I had simply woken up to find it was already so late in the day. But I knew Mom wouldn’t believe me, and I couldn’t be bothered to explain.

“Mom” —-------

Mom always says that depression is nothing more than an illness born of idleness. People who are truly busy studying don't have time to be depressed. So, during my senior year of high school, I lie awake through countless nights, my hair falling out in clumps as I tremble over endless mock papers. Mom only slides another mock exam booklet in front of me. "Finish this booklet, and you won't have time to wallow in self-pity." At family gatherings, my relatives notice that I keep my head down and barely speak. They ask Mom, "Why has she gotten so quiet?" Mom's face darkens at once. "It's because she's guilty about something, duh. Go on. Tell everyone what you've done wrong this time." Late