Mama and Papa

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This story is about a 7 year old child who tries to recall his memories about his parents.

Submitted: September 12, 2013

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Submitted: September 12, 2013

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My memory of my papa and mama is very faint. The clearest memory I had of them was three years ago. I was still in kindergarten back then.

I saw mama and papa yell at each other. I can’t make out anything of what they were shouting about. But since I was still small, I couldn’t do anything but curl up in my bed and cry. Even though I didn’t understand why, I knew they were fighting. I knew they were upset at each other. It made me sad to think that mama and papa might come to hate each other.

I got up and tried to approach them.

“Mama! Papa! Please don’t fight”

I tried to yell as hard as my small voice could. Still, mama and papa seemed to ignore me. I tried not to choke on my own tears. When my voice seemed to drown within mama and papa’s loud voice, I tried to grab on to papa so he could see me. I could barely reach papa’s shirt. I held papa’s leg and pulled as hard as I could. I was hoping that I was strong enough to get papa’s attention. Suddenly, papa stared at me with his scary eyes. It was so scary, I trembled and fell down. His face was almost bright red and the wrinkles on his forehead were countless. I tried to reach out to him.

“Papa.”

I tried to force myself not to cry. But then papa suddenly kicked me with his large leg. With the leg I once held on to. It hit my tummy and it hurt so badly. I cried louder and louder.

“Shut up, you fucking bastard!”

He yelled at me so loud that my ears started to hurt. I didn’t know why he yelled at me nor what he meant. It was the first time

“Papa hates me.”, I thought to myself. I ran to my room, crying.

After everything, papa left me and mama alone. Mama said that papa would never come back again. I barely understood everything so I just nodded. Until now I can still clearly remember papa’s broad back slowly fading away from mama and me.

“Mama, what does ‘bastard’ mean?” I asked mama.

I looked at mama intently but she never gave me an answer. Instead, she cried and hugged me tightly. I didn’t know what to do. I hated to see mama cry. I wanted to be angry at papa for making mama cry but I also loved him.

Mama grew sickly. She grew weaker day after day. It was not long until she died. It was only a week or so when father left us, too.

“Mama, papa, why are you leaving me? I wanted us to be a happy family and yet why are you going to places I can’t reach?” This is the question that I wanted to ask them.

I was took to a place called hospital by mama’s relatives. They said I was “in shock” of what happened. I didn’t know what that meant but it’s true that I couldn’t even stand on my own. Since then, the room I got into somehow became my home. Sometimes my friends from school visits me. It was fun even though I can go out and play with them. Mama’s relatives also come once in a while. But the one that visits me the most is a tall man dressed like an office-worker I don’t know. He always brought me flowers and food. He always tells me fun stories. I didn’t know him but I feel happy whenever he’s around. Since then, I was only watching the outside from the window of my room. I wanted to go out but they wouldn’t let me.


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