Mummy Dearest

Mummy Dearest

She was quite a lazy and untidy girl, yet her beauty always amazed her mother, and she loved her so much that she spends most of her day tidying up her room and later helping her dress up as they go out to run different errands. Every time Mrs. Raddick cleaned her daughter’s room she was always seated on her bed her eyes fixated on the screen of the laptop, and large headphones pulled over her ears. She never cared that she was a grown teenage girl who could do her room by herself but always felt it was her mother’s duty to do all the house chores without her lending a hand. Mothers are always the best and often want the best for their daughters, and this was Mrs. Raddick’s predicament.

She woke up feeling better, and she decided to go for her little walks she took in the park. As usual, as mom was tidying up her room something caught her eye. It was her daughter’s journal. Mothers are curious to know what happens in their teenage daughters lives, and she was no different. She stopped in her tracks and picked up the little green book. All her daughters’ thoughts feelings and experiences were finally there for her, and all she had to do was open that little green book that she never let anyone touch and always carried it with her everywhere she went.

She flipped through first but something caught her eye. In the middle page, there was a folded paper addressed ‘Mummy Dearest’. She sat there for a while thinking what to do with that folded letter. It was hers, but her daughter had not given it to her so the guilt of opening it was overwhelming her, but she overcame it and finally opened it. She sat there motionless as the words from her daughter’s letter kept coming back to her time over time. She could not keep reading any longer she had to stop she was more than hurt. She had only read the first paragraph the letter and her heart was bleeding out.

‘A pain so deep within me makes me, pain caused by one who I hold so dearest to my heart. A person I adore and worship the path she walks on, the person so dear that I could walk over an ocean for. My sailing soul is caught in a blaze of fire and is sinking to depths as that one person who would hold my hand and show me the way has caused me so much pain. Mother why? Why?

Aren’t mothers supposed to be loving, caring and understanding? Upholding Good morals? I am a beautiful vase filled with poison, and my heart is burning with rage. Why? By now mom you are wondering why am asking all these questions. Am trying to explain but am not done expressing how I feel about you, mummy. You let me down by not leading by example. One day I am to be a mother how will I achieve this if I don’t have anything to show for my mother? How am I supposed to treat my baby girl if all u do is doll me up in makeup and have me looking like a whore at such a tender age? What will become of me? Other than going to the movies or shopping in the huge malls in the city like other young girls my age you take me to those stinking drinking and gambling dens they call casinos? What am I to make out of all of these awful things and nasty behaviors I pick at the casinos? What are your plans for me?

Mummy dearest all I ever wanted was for you to style my beautiful strands of hair during my prom night, make me a dazzling princess in my turquoise blue dress that matched up my deep blue beautiful angelic eyes. All I wanted was for you to take a picture of me and my date for the prom night but my dreams you crashed them and they just remain fantasies to me. I no longer look forward to weekends. I wish school days would be extended to weekends to stay away from you.

Mummy Dearest do you know how it feels to dream with your eyes open? To have joy in your heart yet happiness seem so far deep into your past? This is what made me a bitter person. I would want to be a better person but how do I do it? My friends call me a psychopath, but it’s who you made me be. How do I turn back and learn all the etiquette and manners required to be a classy lady in the society? I am a misfit. Can we ever turn back and rewrite our story mother? ( Lewison).

I often sit and wonder as life passes by how the little things around us affect and change us. Mummy, I love you, but I detest your ways. I will always be rude and mannerless because that’s much have learned from your fellow gambling addict friends. Their language is rotten, and since I was a kid I have picked words from their conversations yet, you never cared to correct me. I often ponder my mind each time what has become of me? What will become of my future? Who will I be? What career path will I take? Will I ever be a doctor or a lawyer or will I end up being a gutter person drowning her sorrows in drugs? With all the casinos around me will I be a stripper or a low life prostitute? These are the thing I always reflect on each and every time am waiting outside that casino door for you to indulge in your gambling addictions and reach out for your children to take them home(American SPCC).

I have waited a long wait for you to ask why but you never did. I am tired of wishful thinking and believing in fantasies that will never come true. Dear mother it’s not hatred I feel for you, but my love is etched far deep into the bitterness that keeps piling up towards you. I love you Mummy dearest.

As she read the last words of her daughter’s letter, the tears were flowing down her cheeks uncontrollably. She realized the part she had played in ruining her daughter’s life, and it stung her hurt and pained more than a scorpion’s sting. She was hurt, but her daughter was beyond saving. In a twinkle of an eye, her world came down crushing on her. There was no turning back for both of them.


Works Cited

American SPCC. “Effects of Bad Parenting on Your Child.” American SPCC. 2014. Web. 2016.

Lewison, Janet. “Katherine Mansfield: The Young Girl.” N.p. 2009. Web. 2016.

Mansfield, Katherine. The Young Girl. HarperCollins: Canada. 1920. Print.

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