From heaven to hell

Mother

I come back home after a gruelling day of math, work, everything, only to see that mother has been messing with my school bag, and has dug out a math quiz from 3 weeks ago. Truly, this would cause any son or daughter to be mad or at least annoyed for a parent intruding your privacy with a reason is something that is and will be always hated by kids around the world. Just seeing my mother smile over the paper that says 1/24 makes me feel scared. Chills run down my spine, causing me to shudder between my movements. However, I am not scared of a scolding. No. My mother, or at least how we all see is a kind person. She cares for her children like any other mother but unlike any regular mother, she is more of a storybook one. Her gentle delicate hand is enough to make those in despair feel hope while her genuine smile warms the hearts of those around her, and her stern yet soft voice is enough to charm people. I never saw a person who wasn't smiling when they were talking with my mother.

That was what I thought of her a few years ago.

It wasn't until I understood that the world wasn't as kind and forgiving as I thought , did I start to look at my mother differently. It seemed that once I tasted the horrors of the world, I based my ideologies, my thoughts, and my choices on what I saw. One cannot come out unscarred and unscathed after having a taste of the truth. The truth will always be stuck at the back of ones mind, and like the devil, it will come out and torture you when you least want it. After tasting said truth, my mother's hand seemed to be a farmers palm, raising a pig to be slaughtered while her smile seemed to be fake, it was a smile of a mask that was nailed to her face and impossible to remove. And her once charming voice had turned into a sirens song, a succubus's words which lured people into her embrace, before she used any means possible to rob them of their honour and riches.

It was after I realised this, did I know I had to keep my distance.

I was afraid. Afraid that I would become a puppet of hers without realising it, afraid that I would be unknowingly forced to take on whatever regrets she had, and drag them along with me until her time had come. Until she had gone, I will be forced to wear this chain, preventing me from even uttering a single word, sealing my freedom away. But it had been too late. I had already been bound to the chain years ago. My escape had been thwarted before I even started thinking of it. The chain was shining, good as new on my waist.

But even if I fall into despair, I will not give up. Determination. That is what matters. Determination will lead me to continue, and as long as I continue, I will produce results be it good or bad. So continuing to walk forward, I chip away this chain that is eating away my dreams and as it rusts, so does my mothers mask.

"Ryan?"

It's mother. She waves the math quiz in front of me. With that voice of hers, she smiles and speaks

"I'll look up some of these on the web. It seems like we all have room for improvement. Isn't that right?"

My mother is an observant person. Once she notices the cracks on her mask, she is just as quick to fix the chain.

One can only fight fire with fire. If mother insists on keeping her mask on. Then I will follow suit.

"Sure."

I smile. Albeit a fake one, and one that even an emotionless person can perform. But it is enough. And with that, I head to my room, and close the door.