Mary was sitting on her rocking chair, under a large old tree. She was humming, while pondering her past life. Her family used to stay beneath the tree. They played, ate and had their
best memories in there. It was the place of ecstasy for them that kept on reminding Mary. But everything changed with just a mistake. The place became solitude. No more laughs, no more
Rose, Deli, Vince and Estelle, were the most precious jewels in Mary’s life. She smiled as she thought that she had raised them well. She remembered how they shared their belongings to
each other. And she could resemble herself to Rose, her eldest daughter. They were most likely the same. Rose spent her time taking care of her youngest sister, Estelle. Mary had also a sister, but
she died so sudden.
One time, Rose asked Mary about her father. “He’s now resting.” She simply answered. The truth was she didn’t even know if she had a husband, but the big question was, how could those
children came from her?
There were no days had past that Mary didn’t think about it, until she finally knew the truth, the fact of losing her memories.
Annalisa, Mary’s mother, called from the hospital. She was about to die but she wanted to convey her last message to Mary, her last daughter.
“Do you remember everything about you?” asked Annalisa with a very weak voice. Mary just shook her head. She didn’t even know the reason why her mother was saying this.
“When you read this,” Annalisa said and handed a piece of paper. “Make sure I’m dead.” She added, puzzled.
After a while, Mary went out of the room and sat down. She unfolded the paper and began reading it…
“My dear Mary,
I can no longer write properly, so please consider my mistakes. Although I have lots of things to say, my hand is now frail. My daughter, my blunder was passed to you that I don’t have
the rights to get mad at you. Still, I won’t be at peace if I didn’t tell you this. You never had a child.”
Mary halted for a while. Her hands trembled in fear as she breathed deeply. Then once again, she glanced at the letter.
“Those children you’ve raised are from your sister. You kept on telling me before that you want a child like your sister, but your husband can’t give it to you. I never thought that you
would do such an illegitimate act. Let me say this to you straightly, you killed your sister and your husband, but you can’t remember because you had a trauma after you did that for one year. You
The letter ended there. Mary was staring at it for a few minutes. Her tears flowed as she slowly crumpled the paper.
Years past, until her foster children had their own lives, Mary kept it in her heart. She had a burden since she read it.
Swaying by the rocking chair, Mary thought that it will be her last time to be staying there, shadowed by the big old tree.
She closed her eyes and heard footsteps.
“Mum, let’s go…” uttered the voice. She was sure that it was Rose’s voice. But she can’t open her eyes.
She wanted to say to her daughter, “My Rose, that weren’t your children… they were from Estelle.” But she couldn’t. She couldn’t utter the words.
“Mum, my children were here to meet you.” Rose said but Mary couldn’t hear it anymore.
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