Hey, Mama!

Part 1

Disclaimer:This piece is a work of creative non-fiction based on the author's personal reflections, memories, and observations. While the thoughts and experiences recorded are true to the author's life, certain names, identities, and identifying details of individuals have been changed or omitted to protect their privacy and confidentiality.
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"Why do your stories always end in tragedy?" the first reader asks, which makes me smile. I expected this kind of question.

"I don't know, actually. Maybe because that's what my brain wants to happen in my stories, and it's fun, isn't it?!" I reply with a laugh, which makes everyone else laugh, too.

"Wow, Ms. Tina. I already expected that answer from you," she says jokingly. "But I also figured that there must be a reason why it is always like that. And I want to know it so badly," she adds, and everyone else in the room agrees.

I am at my very first meet-and-greet with my readers. This is also the first time I have revealed my identity.

I remember how incredibly nervous I was earlier, but now I feel like it is ending so well. And it's true. I didn't know this would make my heart feel so happy again.

"There really is something behind it. Why haven't you figured it out yet?" I ask, giving them a hint.

Because of what I said, the room fills with murmuring and loud voices from the crowd, making me laugh even more.

"I am just joking! There is really no other reason for it. I just love to write tragedies. I didn't expect my work to bloom this much and that people would love it. Right?" I say.

"It makes me cry so much, but I really love it because it feels relatable and connected to me. At the same time, it comforts me," one of my readers says.

There are thirty people in the room. I chose to invite only thirty people because I wanted to be able to talk with them easily.

Many readers wanted to experience this event, but I only chose a small circle because it makes me feel comfortable. And they respect it. I love that.

"Some of you assume that these stories are based on my real life or identity, but they really aren't. Many readers have messaged me to offer comfort, but I am fine. It is not my story; it is just a story that my mind created," I say.

My words finally quiet the murmuring crowd, bringing all their attention back to me.

"Are you planning to create a happy ending?" someone asks.

"No, not even once," I replied shortly.

"Why not?"

"Because there is no happy ending in life," I say simply, which makes everyone smile. "My stories are for all the people who suffer in life. As an author, I just observe the people around me, study how they think, and look at the kind of lives they have. I simply put empathy for others into my writing. The stories aren't related to me; they are related to them—the people I am with." That last sentence is exactly what I write in my books.

It is an open-ended story, left for my readers to create the ending they want to imagine. I feel sad that it ended like that, but I wanted it to be done exactly that way.

While scrolling through my Facebook feed to find inspiration for my next story, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a message from my cousin.

"I didn't pass the university entrance exam," my cousin informed me.

"That is not okay, but it is fine. The Lord has a better plan for you," I replied to her.

It makes me sad because that is everyone's dream university, and I am graduating this year from that very same university. Hearing that she didn't pass makes me want to comfort her, because I know how hard she worked to get into that school.