The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness
***
When I came home from school, I applied for universities. "If your parents where here they'll be so proud of you!" Jo exclaims kissing me on the cheeks.
My parents. I never thought about them. I just forgot. "Jo. Do you know who my parents are? Or anything about who they are."
I watch her as she freezes on the spot and slowly turns around. "Yes. I've been waiting for you to ask." She walks into the kitchen. Some minutes later coming out with a letter.
She passes the letter to me and says. "It came with you when you arrived. You were four. It was tucked up in your bag." I nod my head and slowly tear the envelope open.
A letter falls, and I pick it continuedly and slowly open it I up.
A small tear falls down my face as I pull out a picture from the letter. Staring at a baby is a woman with brown hair and black eyes. Sad but a happy smile on her face.
Written on the side is a faded. 'Love you, Josephine'
"Mom," I whisper hugging the letter to my chest. Jo walks out of the room leaving me alone. I stand up from my chair and walk out the room and to my own room.
I lay down on my bed and cry coiling myself into a ball. "I miss you, mom." I never really remember how my mom looked like. Now I'm staring at her. Her brown hair, black eye and a small smile on her face, staring lovingly at me.
She did love me. If she didn't, she would have never left me a picture. She would have just run away leaving me here with no clue about whom she is. Or anything about her.
Maybe she still remembers me. Or she's searching for. "Hey, Josephine."
Startled I hide the picture underneath my pillow as he walks in. "Jo told me about the picture." He says slowly and carefully.
As he walks closer and lays down next to me on the bed. "Can I see?" I nod at him and pass the picture to him.
He stares at the woman then at me several times. Shock written all over his face. "I know her."
"How?"
"There was a newspaper it showed her picture. The woman who died in a fire. 2001."
I stare blankly at his face not wanting to believe it. "But I was born on 2004. That means she's not my mother."
"6th reason." He says, hugging me. "So, you can live to find your mother."
YOU ARE READING
12 Reasons
Short Story"I don't know how to love, all I feel is the pain in my song!" I want to jump off the highest cliff down into the narrowest road. Feel my last breath drawn away from me as I smile. I want to feel the air on my hair, and the hair on my face as I jump...
