How NOT to be a mother in a doomed story (Oc story)

Picking up the pieces

Surprises.

People say that they like surprises.

They laughed and giggled or just sighed with a tired smile on their lips and what kind of misdeeds would soon arrive, a mood of excitement always roamed the air when the words were mentioned among same minded peers.

After all, is it not usual to find at beginning and end of a prank that those well intentioned buffoons were always part of a group? The cackling of their young mirth always echoing all the way as they acted like children to enjoy life just like children would?

In a sense, if you blatantly disregarded the lack of brain power and that most pranksters were sometimes assholes then it was a fine way to disconnect from the perils of growing old.

However its universally known that there is a big fat lie in that statement.

One that should have been phrased differently for future generations in order to avoid someone thinking too hard on said matter one day while starting at the nothingness of a wall because they had nothing better to do.

And said correction should have been divided in two statements.

People "liked" to surprise others....

And "they" definitely hated to be the ones been "surprised"

Strange no? She had often wondered even why. Why such a controversy about something so simple? Was it not fair to be at the other end of the stick from time to time if you had no qualms of been a prankster yourself?

No..?

Oh, ok...

..

..

More or less, that was the short answer if someone had not noticed.

The long answer was that the lack of control, the lack of agency to be aware of it and what it would mean to the one caught with their pants down, sometimes literally was something that people loathed to be reminded, let alone experience at the expense of themselves for the joy of another.

Just like when the common Joe fell on their faces and the rest merely pointed and laughed at them instead of helping, making the entire experience really awkward for one side.

So...yeah, there was that.

However, when there was surprise....there was panic.

Sometimes more..

Sometimes a little less...

But it was there.

That accursed feeling of cold water splashing all over you yet lighting your blood aflame at the same time when something struck you from a left field.

A fight or flight response.

Ran away or fight.

A reaction born out of the perceived belief, either consciously or not of an imminent threat to the survival of one self quickly approaching. A last bid to DO something about what scenario in which one was whole unprepared for it before new information could be studied.

..

..

And yet....

Against all odds of probability and common sense..

She froze.

She FUCKING froze!

Her body became stuck in place as if her feet had decided on that very convenient moment to glue themselves to the polished floor like the branches of a tree.