A Mother’s Betrayal

In Features, My Piece of the Sky, Opinion by Our Readers

A beautiful fictional story about a child yearning for the approval of a parent.

I remember the day like yesterday. Twenty-six of March 1981. It was a Thursday, the day my life changed for the worse.

That Thursday was like any other day Mum. You sent me, my brother and sister to school as you normally did, except I never went. I decided to go hunting for ginger bottles, to take to the shops for sweets and you went to my uncles and from there to bingo, which was your hobby or so you claimed. Dad stayed at home as he always did without complaint.

I always made sure I was back on time for you coming home so that you would think I had been at school.

If I got home before you, I would stand round the corner from our street waiting for you to come home. Four days a week you would always walk home from the bingo, which was a fair walk and for a short cut you would walk under the railway bridge, which you said was a bit of a nuisance because it was always muddy and you had to climb up a steep hill which was no mean feast when you had a shopping trolley in toll.

On a Thursday however was Dad’s pay day and you would take a taxi and get dropped of at the corner where I would be waiting for you.

On that Thursday the twenty-six of March at exactly three forty five, was proved to be a day I would never ever forget.

I waited at the corner as always, like the dutiful son I was. It was then that I had noticed a crowd gathering at the railway line.

I knew without a doubt I don’t to this day know how, but I knew as I ran over to see what was going on. I felt the fear grip inside me and the dread of what I would encounter. I didn’t want to go, but I had to just in case I was wrong and I prayed and prayed hoping against hope that I was.

On reaching the railway line a policeman tried to move me on, but I pushed past him and there you where, your crushed, broken body lying so still on the railway line, which was something that was to haunt me for the rest of my life. I couldn’t take it in as I stared at your crushed face, it was like someone had taken a baseball bat and battered into your face several times.

The train that killed you was no were in sight. I was later told the driver could not stop, being only thirteen at the time I couldn’t understand that, just as I couldn’t understand why you didn’t get a taxi like you always did on a Thursday.

The days to follow were a nightmare, as the funeral preparations were made. Dad decided to bring you home. The undertakers were not to keen, but agreed. So you were brought home but your coffin lid was to be kept closed because of the extent of your injures. No one was allowed to identify you. The identification was done by your clothing and the rings on your fingers.

All your family gathered in your house, your brothers, sisters there partners and children. They all sat discussing what was to be done about our future as my brother was only six and my sister eleven, then myself at thirteen years old.

The family felt that Dad was not able to look after us and they decided among themselves who would take who, but I was not mentioned, once again I was unloved and it would seem unwanted. But what could I expect if you didn’t want me what chance was there of anyone else wanting me. Just as I had wished that, I had also died my big sister stood up and said none of us was going anywhere as long as she was still breathing. She would help Dad look after us along with her Husband. That gave me some hope, but I was not stupid enough to realise it was going to be easy. I knew then that I would have to change my ways and that meant no more stealing, but then I wouldn’t have to because my sister would see that we were well fed and clothed. She had always looked after us, when you were not there. My sister acted as a Mother, which should have been your Job. As much as I loved my sister I still needed you Mum but your were to busy to notice.

The day of your funeral was on April fool’s day, which was a bit of a joke I thought. I was banished to a relative and resented not attending your funeral, but I was told I was to young for such things. A pity they didn’t think of that when I had seen you lying on the railway line, in fact nothing could have been worse than seen you lying there all crushed and broken, so why couldn’t I have carried your coffin, or been permitted to attend your funeral?.

Things improved greatly with your death, but you still left a great void in my life, which was to affect me in later years. You see Mum I don’t know if you loved me or hated me and I have grown into manhood wondering and feeling bitter about the way you treated me.

Dad could not show his love to his children, I don’t think he knew how, he was incapable of showing any feelings to any of us so you see Mum I don’t even know if he loved me.

You see Mum what you did not realise was that I worshipped the ground you walked on, but you seen me as a complication in your life. I was just something you gave birth to and you were stuck with me like it or not. You felt you had to do your duty by me, but you didn’t did you. I had to go out to steal to feed me and my brother and big sister. What I could not understand was that you always made sure my young sister was well clothed and feed. Your little princess as she was called by you, where as I was a devil, there was something evil in me you said and I believed you.

But what you didn’t seem to realise is that when I stole from other people I kept some of the takings for you so you would love me. All you would do is hit me and take what I offered you and more if I had it. You were never satisfied and I never gave up trying to win your love which was rightfully mine in the first place. I should never have had to try, you should have loved me no matter what, but you couldn’t could you?. You loved your little princess unconditionally, she didn’t even have to try for your love she had that without any conditions attached.

A lot of questions have gone unanswered and will continue to do so until we met again and maybe then you will tell me what I have often prayed you would say that I love you. I don’t know if I now love you, but I do miss you and wonder often if you committed suicide or was it some sort of freak accident?. I guess I will never know, only you can answer that.