A mother is always supposed to protect her children, right? A mother is supposed to fight for her children, isn't she? A mother is supposed to give her all, just to see her children happy, right? Well, not mine. She gave up on me. She ruined my life. She took my life away and filled me with emptiness and loneliness. She never really loved me. I was just a pain to her.
I know. It's not right for me to talk about my mother that way. But, what she did hurt me in the worst way. Oh, how I wish things were different. How I wish she had not done that to me.
Before I tell you my story, let me introduce myself. My name is Michael. Michael Anderson. My parents divorced when I was five, leaving me and my sisters fatherless. Our father walked out the door, and never looked back since. My sisters, Tessa and Emma, were both three and one respectively when father left. I still remember the day I found him packing his things. I stood for five minutes behind his door, watching him before he took notice of me. He smiled at me and beckoned me to come to him.
As stupid as I was that time, I happily ran to him and hugged him. He had to kneel on one knee to reach my height just to hug me properly. I always adored my father. He meant everything to me. I wanted to be like him when I grew up. He was my pillar and my strength. And I loved him. But, he lied to me. He lied to a five year old boy. And why? Because he did not want to get my hopes up. After we broke the hug, he looked at me and smiled.
I innocently asked him where he was going. And his answer? Well, he told me he was travelling and would be back in a few days. My father loved to travel a lot because he was an artist. He loved to draw and paint. And travelling helped him gain some inspiration. His drawings and paintings were one of the beautiful ones I had ever seen. He always loved to draw places he had been to and the people he had met. That is why when he said he was travelling, I believed him.
I believed him. Little did I know that was the last time I was going to see my father around the house again. My mother, Fina, has always been a housewife. She devoted herself to take care of us, the children. My father's work, was what was paying the bills and our fees. It was what was feeding us. So, imagine how life must have been for us after father left.
I had to stop schooling at one point because my mother could no longer afford my school fees. We moved from our home, because she could not afford to pay for the bills that came with it. So, we had to move to a place she could afford. A two bedroom apartment, in the suburbs of the city. The neighbourhood was not a place to raise a child, or children. Yet, we lived there. Our neighbours were nice people though. They always looked out for us when mother was not home.
Mother began to work in people's houses as a maid. She moved from house to house to help with the cleaning, the washing and the cooking. She made little money, which she used in feeding us and paying the bills. She hardly bought any new thing for herself and it worried me. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted to see her smile again. She had lost every part of her since the divorce. She no longer smiled like she used to. And she no longer took care of herself like she used to.
She just stopped caring about herself. Her beauty was beginning to fade and she always looked tired. I hated seeing her like that, but I did not know what to do to help her. So I did what I could to help her. I was no longer schooling, so I did what I could to help her around the house. First, I thought myself how to cook. Mom used to cook for us a lot, but after sometime, she grew tired and always ended up bringing food from the houses she worked in. So, I guess I was able to get the basics from her when I would watch her cook.
I hated waiting up for her to return late at night to give my siblings and I food to eat so I decided to cook before she came home. So, every morning, I would wake up and clean my room and the bedroom my mother shared with my sisters. Then, I would wake my sisters up and help them get their bath. Then, I would make breakfast for them. I washed, I cleaned, I cooked and babysitted till mother came back.
I'd still wait up for my mother when my sisters were fast asleep just to help prepare her bath and sometimes serve her her food. She hated it when I did that but she never complained. I saw it in her face, though. I learnt how to do all these things at the age of five.
I became both mother and father to my sisters because my mother had to work extra more hours to get enough money for our upkeep. This continued till I turned nine.
Because of my sisters, I never made friends. I always had to keep my eyes on them and protect them from the bigger kids who wanted to do them harm. A lot of the boys from the hood did not want to play with me anyway. I guess they saw me as someone who is not sociable. I don't know. I liked it that way. No friends no worries, right?
I made it my responsibility to take care of my sisters and that is what I wanted. I did not care what others thought. So, when Emma fell seriously sick and I could not do anything to help her, it bothered me. Hell, it frustrated me so much. Her illness brought a great change in my life. A change, I will never forget in a hurry.
