The dark clouds overhead threw drops of water onto the earth below. The sun was completely hidden behind the ominous clouds. The water droplets banged loudly against the metal roof of one house on the hill in particular. The house looked like it was owned by interior designers; each room was intricately arranged just so. One dimly lit floor lamp was all that illuminated the living room. It would have been the perfect house had the sun been shining on it.
An older woman in her early forties sat across a nineteen-year-old young woman in the dimly lit room. The older woman sipped on some freshly brewed tea.
“So, you’ve finally returned.” The older woman said.
“Mom, I don’t need this. Not from you.” The teen responded.
“It’s true, I knew you would.” The Mom sipped her tea.
“I’ve had enough as it is, okay?” The teen said, exasperated.
“So, you’ve learned your lesson, Cynthia?” she questioned her daughter
“This isn’t why I came.” Cynthia shot back, shutting down the patronizing direction of the conversation.
“Then why did you?” Mom sipped some more tea.
Cynthia looked down and folded her hands, hesitating. Taking a deep breath, she spoke.
“I . . . I’m sorry.”
“Excuse me?” the mom said, taken aback by the apology.
“I guess you were right, I see that now. You were right about everything, I shouldn’t have left with him.”
Cynthia took out a Forget-Me-Not flower and tears formed in her eyes but never fell. Her face looked somber, her eyes red and puffy from constant eye-rubbing.
Mom let out a small gasp of horror. “No . . . he didn’t.” She raised her hand to her mouth.
Cynthia nodded. “Soon after he found out I was pregnant. He wanted nothing to do with a child and dealt with it the only way he could think of. Jason always did have a temper, but I never expected him to beat our child out of me.”
Cynthia closed her eyes and the tears slowly fell. There weren’t many, but they were there.
“Oh honey . . .” Her mom said, giving Cynthia a sympathetic look.
“Rani, his sister, gave it to me. She always was like an older sister to me . . . but then she left. She wanted to leave with Jason to make sure he wouldn’t come after me. Before she did, she said we would never forget my little would-be child.” Cynthia’s hands, holding the flower, began to tremble.
The two were now silent, staring at the flower. It was a somber and almost respectable silence, thinking of the child that would now never be. After a while, Cynthia broke the silence.
“I’m trapped in a storm, I don’t know what to do.” Cynthia lowered her head into her hands, dropping the Forget-Me-Not flower.
“It may feel that way now, but one day a rainbow will come and the storm will blow away.”
“I hate rainbows, they only leave hope.”
The mom shook her head. “See, I knew something like this would happen. Why do you think I did everything I could to stop you from leaving, or even being with him in the first place?”
“I was young, and his true nature didn’t shine through to me until it was too late.” Cynthia hugged her knees to herself, ashamed.
“That you were, and now look what happened!” Cynthia’s mom motioned to her daughter’s stomach and scars.
Cynthia flinched at her mother’s words before glaring at her. “I didn’t come here to be chastised.”
Silence. Cynthia eventually looked away, staring at nothing. Her mom was at a loss for words, and all that could be heard was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of a quiet drizzle of rain on the roof. After the silence had stretched on for a few minutes, Cynthia’s mother spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
Cynthia looked up in surprise and confusion. “What?”
“I pushed too hard to keep you here, away from him. Maybe if I had just stood back and let things run their course, you would have realized on your own how bad he was and come back on your own terms.”
Cynthia shook her head. “No, if you hadn’t done anything, worst could have come to worst. “
“I don’t think I agree with that.”
Cynthia sat up. “What, then? Do you agree with anything I’ve said?”
“The flower.” Her mom picked the Forget-Me-Not up off the floor, examining it. “I too was given one at a time like yours.”
Cynthia tried to process this. “You lost a child, too? Is that why you tried so hard to stop me from leaving?”
Cynthia’s mom nodded. “I was never the same after that dreadful night I found out my little one would never be born, but I strived to be better. After the car accident that caused my loss, I felt lost. It was only after giving birth to you that light was brought back into my life. I never wanted this for you, not my rainbow child.
Cynthia sighed. “I should have just listened to you.
“Well, I shouldn’t have tried to control you. All I ever wanted was for you to live a perfect life, but I now realize I overstepped. I should just let you live your life and make your own decisions.”
Cynthia gave her mom a small smile and the older woman smiled back. The tension in the room seemed to have lifted with the word of forgiveness. The mother looked over at her empty tea cup and got up to walk into the kitchen. She placed her cup in the sink and took two more cups out of the cupboard. Taking the carton of milk out of the fridge, she poured some into the glasses. Cynthia’s mother then returned to the living room and handed one of the glasses of milk to her daughter.
“Sorry about the limited options. With the water scarcity and inflation, I can afford many beverages. That tea bag I just finished with has been reused many times over the past week.”
Cynthia stared at the cup in her hands. Her hands trembled until the glass slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor. She stood up as though the crash had startled her.
“I don’t think I can drink milk anymore. It’s too much of a reminder of the little one I might have had . . .” Cynthia said.
Cynthia’s mother nodded. “I’ll remember that next time.”
Cynthia looked up. “Next time?”
“Aren’t you staying?”
“Only if you’ll forgive me for leaving you.”
Cynthia’s mom smiled and hugged her daughter. “Of course I do, my little rainbow child.”
The storm outside had lightened and sunlight beamed down from between the clouds. A burst of rainbows danced across the sky as the drizzle of rain continued but the sun returned.
Prompt: Fictional; dialogue piece
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories
RandomThese are just some short stories that came from ideas that sparked in my mind. They didn't become full stories but they might be, I don't know, we'll see.
