TRIGGER WARNING: NSFW
I love Mommy. Mommy loves me.
I met Mommy when I was 3.
She picked me up from the playground, took me miles away from home, into the forests where the stream separates our life from civilisation.
Mommy and I lived together in a wooden hut. It was small and cosy, just enough for the two of us. We only had each other and life was simple. Mommy would braid my hair every morning, make me the tastiest scrambled eggs, sing me songs and tuck me to bed. Mommy never left me, unless she needed to go to work. Each time she returned, she looked a little weaker, a little older. But Mommy always made sure to bring back some candy and toys for me to play with.
Mommy always told me, “Ally, you know I love you more than anything else in the world.”
And I would say, “I love you too, Mommy.”
Mommy doesn’t like lies or mischief. I was always told to stay indoors and to never cross the stream. I never knew why, but I was happy at home – there were books for me to read, dolls for me to play, cookies for me to eat and places for me to explore. I know Mommy has a sharp eye. She knows whenever I touch something I’m not supposed to. I’ve learnt to be a little smarter about it and perfectly place it back in its original position.
Mommy doesn’t like me going into the store room. But I snooped around, once or twice. Mommy kept little red jars with little kidney beans in them. They all varied in size, smelt a little funky and looked a little creepy. I don’t know why Mommy likes collecting beans when she can get them out of a Heinz can. Mommy also kept boxes of all the things I’ve outgrown – clothes, shoes and toys. I remember the pretty pink frock I wore on the first birthday I celebrated with Mommy. I remember the red patent shoes I wore when I first met Mommy. I remember the red and gold ribboned brooch I’ve had for a long time, and slipped it into my pocket. Mommy would get mad if she found out about it, but she probably wouldn’t notice it either.
On the day Mommy was to go away for a week, I stood by the door and waved goodbye to her. Mommy bent down and gave me a peck on my cheek. She said, “Goodbye, my darling Ally. Mommy will be back soon. Promise me you’ll be a good girl, alright?”
I nodded my head, gave her my pinkie promise.
I watched Mommy’s figure wander further and further away from the forest. She turned back and shouted, “Remember Ally! Mommy always loves you!”
I know I was being naughty – but I couldn’t help it. That afternoon, I was busy chasing butterflies, throwing pebbles and picking flowers for Mommy. I ran and ran after butterflies, squirrels and even tried chasing after the birds. I ran until I reached the stream. The currents were so strong, there was almost no way to cross it. I put my hand in the stream and felt the cold water gush by. The curiosity in me wanted to find out what lies beyond this stream, or where it led to. Then I heard Mommy’s voice in my head, “Ally, promise Mommy you are never to cross the stream. Ever. Do you understand?”
I reached for a pebble by the stream and threw it in. It didn’t float away like the leaves did, but sank to the bottom of the stream.
Then I gingerly placed a stalk of daisy into the water. It was as light as a feather, embracing its togetherness with the currents. I watched as it disappeared out of sight.
A thought in me rang. What about the brooch? I reached into my pocket and pulled out the only item I could remember from my childhood. The brooch. I tossed it into the stream, watching it as it swam with the currents and disappeared out of sight.
After a week, Mommy came back with a little boy. He was small, walked a little unstably and babbled all day long. Mommy carried a bag of baby boy’s clothes, as well as some snacks for me. When I ran forth to give Mommy a hug, she protested. “No Ally, you’re going to scare him. He’s your new brother.”
New brother? I watched as Mommy carried baby brother into the house, leaving me out. I was upset. For the next few weeks, she would give me the silent treatment. Mommy never braided my hair anymore, she didn’t sing me songs, she left me to go to bed on my own. All her time was devoted to my baby brother.
I tried all that I could to win Mommy back. I would dance in front of her, sing songs that she used to sing to me. She brushed me off, just like that. And I was done for the day. I resigned to my fate that my baby brother had taken my place in Mommy’s heart.
Then one day, Mommy woke me up. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me up from my bed. She had never been so rough with me before. Her eyes were bloodshot red, she was fuming with anger. “ALLY! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE BROOCH?” She hollered.
I tried to squirm out of her grasp, but her fingernails just dug deeper and deeper into my flesh. She wasn’t the Mommy that I knew from before.
“I threw it into the stream. I’m sorry, Mommy.” I stammered.
She looked at me, the anger in her eyes, raging and slapped me across the face. The impact was so big that I fell to the ground. Mommy kicked me and then pulled me up, started to hit me and slap me everywhere she could. I was crying, traumatised at the monster my Mommy has become. She has never once laid a finger on me. I was terrified.
Mommy secretly left the house. I know it because she locked me in my bedroom and the house was dead silent for days. I don’t know how long, but I could not smell Mommy’s cooking or hear my baby brother crying. I felt so lonely. I felt like I didn’t belong here anymore.
Then I heard sirens from outside. People shouting, people breaking the door down. I didn’t know what to do, so I just hid underneath my covers for security. A man was standing right outside my bedroom. He shouted, “Police! Open up or I’ll break the door down!” I didn’t know what a “police” was, so I remain hidden beneath my covers, hugging my dolly. I was scared of what was going to happen to me.
I was brought to the station, where I met my real parents. Apparently, I have been missing for 4 years. They never stopped looking for me, putting up photographs of the day I went missing on newspapers, magazines and everywhere else on the street. Pretty much everyone in our county knew about it, and when my brooch was found at a camping site not far away from the forest, the search for me began once again. The police discovered 8 foetuses from our house. Daddy told me they are “babies who didn’t make it”. They recovered several clothing items, belonging to children who appeared in missing posters over the past 8 years. A notice for Mommy’s arrest was placed all around town.
I went home with my new Mommy and Daddy. They were like strangers to me – but they made me feel at home. They showed me photographs of me when I was a baby, up till I was 3 years old. They brought me to my nursery which was left untouched ever since I went missing. Then they introduced me to my new baby brother, still growing inside of Mommy’s bulging belly. I said hello to him.
When Mommy tucked me to bed last night, she told me, “Lizzy, remember Mommy loves you more than anything else in this world. Don’t ever leave Mommy again, please.”
I love you too, Mommy. But I know you’re lying.
Because in time to come, you’ll love my brother more than me.
And he will be one of those babies who didn't make it.
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Source: https://www.reddit.com/…/comments/76993x/mommy_loves_me_not/
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