Your Forgotten

• ii •

11:59pm
Monday, 22nd of May 2017.

✺

To the woman who birthed me,

Like almost every other night, I couldn't sleep yesterday.

But by 3am I managed to get some shut eye and now I think it would've been better if I stayed awake because I dreamt about you.

I dreamt about us.

I dreamt that you came to pick me up from the dorms with concern on your face, you pulled me in your arms like you used to, you told me that you were sorry and that everything will be alright again. That morning my alarm snoozed itself five times.

I actually woke up with a wide grin on my face.

Now I feel completely disgusted with myself for even letting myself believe in those childish dreams and wishes.

You came to school, talked to the principal and my form teacher, put all my belongings in the trunk of the car and we drove off without anyone uttering a single word.

You didn't even look in my direction. Not once.

I smacked the gum loudly in my mouth just to get you to say something, and you did. You threatened to drop me off in the middle of nowhere if I didn't behave.

So I did till we got home and I couldn't take the silence anymore so I asked if you had anything to tell me.

Just like always you did, you told me how I was a disgrace to the family. You let me know how much you spend on me just so I can be 'happy' and have a bright future.

You told me how much you invest in me and how you have always tried your best to make me comfortable. You let me know how selfish and heartless I am.

And we hadn't even walked through the front door yet.

You continued to move your mouth and pour out streams of words, but I stopped listening minutes ago. I'd heard enough.

In summary all you said was how humiliated you were by me in my school. You're not even mad at me, you're just angry that you can't brag to your fake Facebook friends that your daughter goes to the best school in the state.

You're angry because you can't compare other children to me and feel like you did a good job anymore.

You're angry because I'm not the perfect daughter that you can hide your dirty flaws behind.

After you were done talking, I carried my things back inside that big empty house and you told me that you had to return to work.

I watched you drive away, with your perfect plastic car and perfect plastic face.

And I couldn't help but wonder...

What happened to you ma?

Your forgotten,
Mola.