The waiting place

Chapter eight: The reunion

"Oh! You're up? Are you feeling better, dear?" An elderly woman asked with a concerned look on her face. I immediately jumped back from the door. Who was this woman standing in front of me? There was something about her, something familiar. With ill-kept hair and pallid, craggy skin, she reflected her age. Some women age gracefully, and some don't. She hadnt. I didn't get a chance to see her eyes, mainly because of the rolled awnings of her upper lids that were sagging enough to probably obstruct her view. I imagined her eyes a milky blue, solemn and moist underneath. The stride of a young woman was stolen years ago and was replaced with an unbalanced amble. Liver spots crept over the back of her hands and speckled the length of her sun-kissed arms. She came into the room and placed down a tray filled with the most mouth-watering looking food I'd ever seen. But there was no way I was going to eat it. I mean how could she expect me to eat something a stranger had given me. My eyes met hers. She just stood there, awkwardly smiling.

It then came to me. It hit me like a truck or a ton of bricks. There are no words to describe how disgusted, furious and depressed I felt all at the same time - simply by looking at her face. However, I badly wanted to hug her, to be embraced by her. How much I had missed her. But I couldn't show it. For once, I had to be strong. For once, I should lead with my head and not my heart. I mean, after all these years. Ten miserable, empty and isolated years. She finally had the nerve to find me. After all that time of feeling worthless and hated, she finally decided to be there for me? No matter how enraged I felt - my throat was clogged with tears. I fought the tears back. But my emotions betrayed me.

"Mother?" I whispered; salty tears were now streaming down my face like a waterfall. Her face softened. Swiftly, she moved towards me, her arms waiting to embrace me. Pushing away, I shook my head.

"Why?" I asked, anger leading my head more than sadness now.

"What is it?" She asked - obviously hurt by my rejection.

"Why after all this time, do you finally help me? After you abandoned me and left me out in the cold, why now? Why?" I screamed. We were both crying now.

"Please, stop. Stop Ana. I didn't want to. I didn't. But we couldn't keep you. We had no money. The government increased taxes. We had no choice. We had to give you up. Please. Let's just be happy we've found each other now. Please understand, Ana." She stroked my face. Scoffing, I slapped her hand away.

"UNDERSTAND?! UNDERSTAND?! HOW IS A FUCKING FIVE-YEAR-OLD SUPPOSED TO COPE WITHOUT HER PARENTS?! FOR YEARS, I THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T LOVE ME! AND NOW, YOU WANT ME TO UNDERSTAND WHY YOU GAVE ME AWAY?"

"But we do love you, Ana-"

"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY! I WAS ABUSED BECAUSE OF YOU! THE PEOPLE WHO YOU GAVE ME TO WERE VILE AND CRUEL! AND YOU'RE NO BETTER!"

"Ana..."

"DON'T 'ANA' ME! YOU KNOW WHAT? I CAN'T DEAL WITH YOUR CRAP RIGHT NOW!" And with that, I stomped out the room.