She taught not to be in imbroglio regarding anything.
She made me understood why my brothers were not asked even a single question when a girl called them but would they would ask me a lot.
She taught me that, just because I was a girl I was not allowed to invite any fellow-boy-friend of mine.
Oh, my mother! Why was she not teaching me to be bold, to be with an indomitable spirit and a strong will power? Why? I don’t know but my soul knows. She taught me to be a zig-zag.
She didn’t let me learn sophistically. She didn’t let me learn my own dexterity. She didn’t let me learn how to cushion.
She taught me how to dance to one’s tune. She told me to involve in sexual intercourse with my husband who raped me the night I got married. He was no more than a rapist.
I was shouting, my inner soul was crying, I was hypochondriac then.
I was habituated later where he would beat me after he came drunken or whether he would pull my hair or whether he rampaged me it didn’t matter anymore.
And my mother was thanking him for all these.
Scandalizing was her moral towards me. Being a recalcitrant was my mother’s opinion towards me. I can still remember her meaningless talks.
I can still remember her liaison with other men.
I can still her my mom’s scream when she was being killed by my own late father.
Oh, how can I forget all those happened with me after my mom died. How can I forget all those flaws my step-mother taught me.
Ah, I can still remember! And it still lives inside me.