Dear Mom,
Why did you hurt me? Did I do something wrong? I know I'm not perfect. I was a "slut", a "whore", I was a horrible daughter. Wasn't I? Don't try to deny it. You said it yourself. You wanted me gone. I wasn't planned. You never wanted to keep me. You wanted me to die.
I tried to be good. I tried not to cry. I tried to do what you said. I didn't scream, but you still hit me. I never cried, and you still kicked me. I never told, and you still punched. I stayed out of your way, but you still found me. I listened to your every word, I obeyed your every command, but you still pushed and shoved and cut and smacked. You still yelled and beat and drank and screamed. But worst of all, you were still my mother.
They took you away when I was 12, and I don't know why. You were never bad, I was the one at fault. I made you hit me, because I was horrible.
I was sent to a big building, with kids like me. Their moms and dads hit them too. Some didn't have any moms or dads anymore, because they died. There were big kids and little kids and boy and girls.
There was a mom there. She fed us and cleaned up after us and put us to bed. She kissed our foreheads and told us she loved us. The big kids sometimes did that, too. But they never hit. They never drank. They never called us bad words or told us they didn't want us. We had food every day. I went to school! I made friends. We had beds to sleep on every night, and the mom there didn't leave for days at a time.
I stayed there for 2 years.
I was adopted 4 times. 2 of them were like you. They smoked and drank, but they never hit. They only had me for a little bit. 1 time I went with these old people, and they had a really big house. They said they liked me because I was pretty. They had a lot of other pretty girls in their house. They had teenagers and kids and 2 babies. They brought me back after a month because I had too many scars, and I wasn't pretty anymore.
When I was 14 I was adopted into a nice family. They didn't hit me or drink or swear. They had 4 nice kids, 3 boys and one girl. I got my own room and they fed me every day. I always was full after I ate. They let me do things, like play sports and they told me I didn't have to go to school yet. I hadn't gone in a few years, because the people who adopted me before never took me. I was so happy.
So mom, why were you never like that? Was I always bad? That's what you said. You never told me you loved me. But I still loved you then. And I still love you now.
And I'll love you forever.
Your daughter,
Anna
YOU ARE READING
Mom
Short StoryNotes from me, to people I never got to send them to. It should be a pretty short read, but I write more than I think...