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The baby’s cries woke her up again. Slowly turning over in her bed, staring sleepily at the clock on her nightstand; 3:30. Crawling out of her sheets, she feels the cold floor beneath her feet as she twists her body and stands up. The cries were getting louder by the minute as the hungry infant in the next room only became more and more agitated. Staggering into the kitchen she works at making a bottle, hoping that it will calm the baby down.
“How did this happen?” she says to herself as she mixes the formula. “How did things get to be this way?”
She had been a typical high school student, although her past was bit darker than most of the people she knew. She had grown up in foster homes across California, with no family other than her mentally retarded sister. Foster homes back then weren’t as nice as they are now, and some of her memories still woke her up screaming in her bed. She never knew her mother until later in her adolescence, and then she was packed up and moved to Oregon with her. Her life didn’t improve much with the change, but she had managed to get by.
Then she had met him. His name was Jason, and before she knew it they had fallen in love. They would walk the town and talk for hours on end, never anything important but that didn’t matter, she just liked hearing him talk. One thing led to another, and eventually she found herself in a hospital bed with a baby boy. She hadn’t had time to actually look at him when he was born. When she had given birth, something had ripped inside her and she had almost bled to death. But Jason had been there, holding her hand, and crying into hair through the whole thing.
The baby’s cries brought her back to reality, and she starts to walk down the hallway to try and feed her baby. Picking his tiny form out of the crib, she gently places him in her arms and puts the bottle to his wailing mouth. The infant found the bottle easily enough.
“There, there,” she coos softly, “isn’t that better? No need to cry.” She starts to reminisce again as the baby slowly cuddles up into her arms.
After the baby had been born, and after the doctors had saved her life, she had convinced herself that she was ready to raise her family. But something had changed, and her relationship with Jason had gotten worse. After a long time of trying to change things back to the way had been before the baby had come, she had finally given up and packed up everything she owned and left. The court battles over the baby’s future had been the worst experience of her life, never knowing if her son would be taken away from her like she had been taken away from her mother. In the end the judge had given custody to her, and she was able to keep her son.
The baby’s small snores broke her out of her memories again. He had fallen to sleep in her arms, the bottle laying awkwardly against his cheek. Laying him gently back in his crib she turns to leave for the kitchen, empty bottle in hand. Before turning out the light, she turns and stares back at her infant son.
“I’ll never leave you.” She whispers, too softly for anyone to hear. “I’ll never leave you. I love you too much.” With that she turns out the light and heads back towards the kitchen, lost in thought again.
- Title: My Son
- Artist: Zanech
- Description: A short story that I wrote for a class about a year ago. Somewhat personal, and my favorite story that I have written so far.
- Date: 06/27/2009
- Tags: child mother flashback
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Comments (3 Comments)
- Geuro - 08/22/2009
- Eh, not bad. A little cliché, but overall it was okay. You have some past/present tense issues in the very beginning. You have the baby’s actions in past tense, but the mother’s are in present. Make sure you are aware of these things before you are completely finished with your prose. Also, I feel this story is really cliché, like Lifetime Movie Network cliché. It wouldn’t hurt to rethink your presentation a little bit, but I agree with the girl below me. You should write more.
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- Hollywood--famous only - 06/27/2009
- I think you should right more.
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