A tear trickled down her face and she hugged me. Her hair smelt of burnt marshmallows, it lingered in the air; her neck was drowned in a scent so over powering I had to back away.
‘Some-body set my car alight while I was sleeping in it’ The tone of her voice was coarse and low- she was ashamed of herself because of her face, because of her appearance, and the most disturbing thing was she was ashamed to let me see her.
‘Mum,’ I paused I didn’t want to tell her not to be ashamed, I just wanted her.
We walked into the living room- were it was brightly lit I studied her face closely-
It was almost like a maze- her left eye was slightly raised, there was a scratch leading right down to her chin, it was deep it engraved her face in such a way that if you swept your hand across her face gently you would feel a dent in her skin.
The right side of her face was swollen and red, her chin was bare and rough to the touch, and it had several bumps under the surface of her skin that showed through like icebergs do on the ocean. The forehead was clear; it had escaped the terrible ordeal.
The left side of her face was like a collection and series of burns and bruises, each one unique with, probably there own story to tell. As I studied my mother informed me that some were caused by the fire and are permanent pigmentations of the skin that will never fade- but others are simply bruises and cuts through people calling her ‘ugly’.
She noticed my study her body further- I noticed she had a slim figure, the clothes she wore emphasised every curve on her body- but in a good way.
She wore an embroider cardigan, with flowers that seemed to swim up towards her chin, it was buttoned carefully but left open at the top, which revealed a white t-shirt that was dirty and creased.
Her jeans were skin tights- I could tell they used to be black but they had been put through the wash so many times the colour had faded to reveal white lines and black parts.
Her boots were at least 2 inches high, they gave her legs a shapely figure which suited the rest of her body.
She had an incredibly good posture which was noticeable when she walked, and sat down. She had incredibly similar hands to me- her fingers were long and her nails neat and manicured. The palm of her hand was greasy and dripping with sweat-which she kept wiping on her jeans. I could tell she wanted to say something; her facial expression went from a relaxed face to a nervous one- she was biting her bottom lip and fiddling with her hair.
‘What is it?’ It kind of slipped out, the words started to echo in my ear- she started to say something but it was drowned out by my disgust- How dare I talk to my own mum so bluntly like that?, I was in a panic, a frenzy of panic!
She quickly rose, her presence was warm and welcoming- she looked at the floor and closed her eyes, I was confused.
I sat back in my chair and sat there waiting for some kind of response, I waited for quite some time- after a while I was getting bored, she was still posing in exactly the same way as when I looked 10 minutes ago.
‘I have been trying to find your for 10 years, I was separated from you for a whole decade, you’re my daughter, I finally see you and you ask me what is it, do you have no common sense?’
II now realised why I had been split up from my mother all those years ago, her coarse voice had turned sour and her once beautiful features had turned evil.
The burns on her face seemed to relight as she blazed into my eyes raging about how ungrateful I was, but she seemed to be forgetting an important aspect of this argument- which was were it was taking place. It’s different now- I am no longer that child who gets ripped to pieces because I pronounced a word wrong, she doesn’t live here anymore, I have a family now who loves me and respects me for what I am.
Even though |I mirror my mothers face, I’m still worthy of life.
My family were only up stairs, all I had to do was shout ‘Mum or Dad’ and they would come and ask her to leave, but somehow I knew that it wasn’t going to be that easy.
She is special to me in many ways, as a mum is too a daughter, but this kind of special is a different special, I looked at her once more knowing that I didn’t want to ever contact her again, she had revealed her true colours to me, and I didn’t like it.
I read the expression on her face, she knew what I was about to say, I just pictured her then as a photo, I will always remember her smell, her features and most of all her hair. After a while the burns that lye upon her face seemed to sink skin deep and I couldn’t notice anymore. I now noticed her pursed lips and her constant sour expression.
“I’ll go,” She turned away and she seemed to float on air through the corridor down to the door, I couldn’t help but smile. I had chosen my own fait (finally!). She turned towards me and the dimmed light drowned out the burns even more and it looked as if her face was perfect with no imperfection or flaw in sight-
“I didn’t abandon you, I fought to get you back but-“
I stopped her- she looked angry again like thunder had struck upon her face, her eyes beamed like snake eyes in the dark and the words that came out of her mouth were like she had been possessed by Lucifer.
Her hair had turned to snakes, hissing at me with every word and her body a dragon roaring every time I dared move or speak.
The thing I had sussed out about my mum from the second I re-met her was not to answer back or show any defensive body language- as you’d probably never see the light of day again. This time she didn’t seem to calm down, she was by the door of my house shouting and screaming things so hurtful that it felt like I was being stabbed with a thousand different knives over and over again. She was shouting so loud that the walls formed small cracks that reached the ceiling.
Suddenly the shouting stopped, what had happened?
“Remember I will always love you”, I turned back to look at her, but she was gone- the front door left swinging and the faint aroma of her perfume that seemed to linger in the air. I smiled and shut the door.
Jade Frater
