The day that you were born, sweet Angeline, everything that I had previously thought of as important, all of a sudden ceased to be. All I wanted was you and all you appeared to want was me. How painful it was to hear you crying for me, knowing that the milk pouring from my breasts was meant to soothe those tears. They would not let me anywhere near you though. Kept me sedated and locked in the attic room, for my own safety they said. When the hormones and the drugs they had been feeding me for months finally tipped my already fragile mind over the already slippery edge I had been balanced upon for years, I escaped and ran, for what seemed like days on end, without stopping. This world I have ended up being immersed in is a direct reflection of all that they put me through... but the knowledge that you are safe and well keeps me buoyant...how I wish I could actually see your face for real though... Maybe one of these days, who knows?
YOU ARE READING
ANGELINE
Short StoryA darkly hewn tale of the cyclical nature of abuse within one family... A story of 2 mothers, 2 daughters and their silent struggle towards an exit of the pattern...
