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Mother Knows Best
"A child shall respect thy mother. . ."
She says these words to her daughter who kneels before her on the wooden floor as she holds the ceramic brush in her hand. The woman had blonde hair that curled slightly around her face and sapphire blue eyes, she looked down at her daughter with anger and spite. Her daughter didn't adver her emerald green eyes from the floor, but instead hid her tears under her recently dyed black hair. The hair was why her mother was so angry, the daughter had been born with her mother's blonde hair while she was given her father's eyes. Her father however had black hair, so now this woman's daughter looked so much like the father that abandoned both mother and daughter. Grabbing her daughter by the wrist she told her to go down on her knees which the daughter didn't obey and so she was smacked by her mother with the brush until she was on the floor.
"You need to learn to listen to me."
Her mother's words are like broken glass as they stab at her daughter whose back and shoulders were sore from the brush slamming down on her. She doesn't look at her mother and doesn't reply, her mother yanks the girl up onto her knees my hair arm and smacks her with the brush again. It hurts, the pain is raw and it starts to throb as the bruises begin to form on her pale skin. "I'm sorry mother" she cries but her mother hits her again and then finally the brush break and then jagger edge of the ceramic handle slashes a long scar down the daughter's side.
"Clean yourself up, and then pack your stuff. I don't want you in my house anymore."
The daughter lays there shaking, alone with no one anymore. Both father and mother have abandoned her and tried to kill her. She closes her eyes and when she opens them it's been years and she is not longer sixteen years old. She a woman now and she is a mother herself of three children and she has never rose a hand to any of them ever. She looks into the mirror, her hair now dyed bright red any color except blonde, not wanting to have any connection to her mother who she cannot stand. Her green eyes hold her memories, her scars tell her past, her mind is set on the furture. When I see this girl I know she has come a long way from the girl who was beaten by her mother with a brush. I know that she has had a hard life and that she is trying to make it out of the darkness that closed in around her when she was very young. I also know she likes to speak in third person for some unknown reason. Maybe because she wants to forget that she's me.
She says these words to her daughter who kneels before her on the wooden floor as she holds the ceramic brush in her hand. The woman had blonde hair that curled slightly around her face and sapphire blue eyes, she looked down at her daughter with anger and spite. Her daughter didn't adver her emerald green eyes from the floor, but instead hid her tears under her recently dyed black hair. The hair was why her mother was so angry, the daughter had been born with her mother's blonde hair while she was given her father's eyes. Her father however had black hair, so now this woman's daughter looked so much like the father that abandoned both mother and daughter. Grabbing her daughter by the wrist she told her to go down on her knees which the daughter didn't obey and so she was smacked by her mother with the brush until she was on the floor.
"You need to learn to listen to me."
Her mother's words are like broken glass as they stab at her daughter whose back and shoulders were sore from the brush slamming down on her. She doesn't look at her mother and doesn't reply, her mother yanks the girl up onto her knees my hair arm and smacks her with the brush again. It hurts, the pain is raw and it starts to throb as the bruises begin to form on her pale skin. "I'm sorry mother" she cries but her mother hits her again and then finally the brush break and then jagger edge of the ceramic handle slashes a long scar down the daughter's side.
"Clean yourself up, and then pack your stuff. I don't want you in my house anymore."
The daughter lays there shaking, alone with no one anymore. Both father and mother have abandoned her and tried to kill her. She closes her eyes and when she opens them it's been years and she is not longer sixteen years old. She a woman now and she is a mother herself of three children and she has never rose a hand to any of them ever. She looks into the mirror, her hair now dyed bright red any color except blonde, not wanting to have any connection to her mother who she cannot stand. Her green eyes hold her memories, her scars tell her past, her mind is set on the furture. When I see this girl I know she has come a long way from the girl who was beaten by her mother with a brush. I know that she has had a hard life and that she is trying to make it out of the darkness that closed in around her when she was very young. I also know she likes to speak in third person for some unknown reason. Maybe because she wants to forget that she's me.
Published 21st Jul 2011
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