A little boy, who has seen but 6 summers, walks home from school crying.
Sniffing loudly, he knocks on the door.
His mother opens the door.
Seeing him cry, the natural question.
"What happened?" she asked in a voice and expression that he could never understand. All he knew was that it made him feel like he was the most loved boy in the world.
The boy, eyes filled with tears, brought up his elbow, and rolled up his sleeves to reveal a cut near the elbow.
"Mimi said that this cut will become big. My hand will fall off, and i will have only one hand!" he said, trying to stop himself from wailing loudly. His teacher had told him that boys don't cry.
His mother couldn't help smiling.
"No dear, your hand will not fall off." She said kindly, taking him inside.
"It will not?" asked the boy, hope immediately flaring inside him. He believed everything that his mum said. His mum was Einstein and Newton, don't you know. She knew why the starts twinkled. She even knew how far America was. Awesome.
"No, it will heal completely and your arm will be just like it was before." She said smiling, while washing the cut.
"Really? Then Mimi is wrong?" he asked, undertones of smugness already creeping in his voice.
"Yes, she is." Mum said, inwardly smiling at the theories that kids come up with. Well, thats them, isn't it?
An hour later, washed and fed, the boy toddled to Mimi's house to tell her what he thought of her theory.
Years later.
A boy sits in his room looking at the drizzle outside. pitter patter. tip top.
He likes to keep his room dark.
"What happened?" asked his Mum, walking in quietly without switching on the light.
"Nothing!" exclaims the boy. "Why should anything be wrong?" he asked, laughing slightly.
His mother looked at him straight. And narrowed her eyes slightly.
"You wont tell me? Fine." Said Mum.
"But what do i tell you?!" asked the boy, looking half-amused. "Theres nothing wrong!"
"Then, why are you laughing nervously? Why are you staring at the rain?"
The boy prepared himself for these questions. And quickly began to fabricate answers.
His Mum knew him well, he knew that, but he also knew his mum well.
"I believe you." said his Mum. And she left.
The boy was left behind feeling worse than he was before, although he didn't think it was possible.
This is what life does to people. And they say...well, they say a lot of things.
7 comments:
I shouldn't comment, right?
Tell me, is THIS what they call adolescence?
Hey, wait a second!
This was supposed to be a comment on your OTHER blog! Damn my connection!
This was.. beautiful!
"This is what life does to people. And they say...well, they say a lot of things"
I can't agree more.
"What happened?" she asked in a voice and expression that he could never understand. All he knew was that it made him feel like he was the most loved boy in the world.
This is amazing.
They call it adolescence because they don't know anything. Its adolescence and a bit more than that.
How about this:
one evening a twelve-year old boy's checking whatever letters he might have received in his e-mail account. His mother sits beside him, he moves away and quickly starts seeing something else. For the first time that evening he sees pain in his mother's eyes but it doesn't register.
Six years later, a person very close to him refuses to show her mother the contents of her e-mail account. When he hears about this, all he has to do is stretch his mind back.
When does trust break? Or does it stay forever, only remaining hidden for some time?
You've painted a remarkably cohesive picture of the teenager. The setting might be a bit too cliched but it doesn't matter- I can see myself in him, maybe all of us can. And we've all had the experience. Some of us have proceeded to go ahead with the lies, some of us weren't allowed to finish with them. We grew a bit older each time. And we also watched someone else grow older as well.
I reiterate: this is beautiful, very, very beautiful.
this one is wonderful....
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