Confession
891 Words
Maya put on her nightgown and hesitantly walked towards her mother's room. Her heart was racing, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. She was trembling, not just from the cold, but mainly from the fear that consumed her. She was afraid of her mother's reaction when she finds out about Anésio, knowing it could be an explosion of anger and disappointment.
Upon reaching her mother's bedroom door, Maya took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage to face the conversation she knew was inevitable. She knew she couldn't hide the truth for long and that it was better to be honest from the start, no matter how difficult it was.
With trembling hands, she knocked on the door and waited, the sound echoing in the silent hallway. Every second felt like an eternity as she awaited a response. Finally, her mother's voice answered, inviting her to enter.
With unsteady steps, Maya opened the door and entered the room, and found her mother sitting at the table, reading a book. She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to start the conversation. She knew there was no easy way to tell her, but she had to do it.
“Mom...” Maya began, her voice faltering a bit with nervousness. “I need to tell you about Anésio… Please don't be angry with me.”
“Was he the one who brought you home?”
“Yes... I don't want to disappoint you.”
“Who is he, Maya Yuni?”
Her mother only used her full name when she was angry.
“I met him at school. He helps me with my assignments and studies.”
“You're not allowed to talk to him.”
“I can't, mom, please! I like him.”
“Are you seeing this boy?”
“Dating, he asked me to be his girlfriend and I accepted.”
“Do you want to end up like me? Alone with two kids, working myself to exhaustion...”
“I'm sorry, mom, that my brother and I are the reason for your unhappiness and exhausting work. I'm really sorry. I do what I can to help. I even wanted to go to a school with fewer subjects, so I could help more at home. I wanted to find a job to at least buy my own things, but you didn't allow it.”
“You need to study to get a good job, but instead of studying, you're dating in the school corridors, are you trying to get pregnant?” Her mother asked, sounding disappointed.
“No, I'm not. I swear I'm not, but I like him. I won't get pregnant, I swear.”
“I told my mother the same thing, and I made the mistake of not using protection. That's how you were conceived.”
“I know, but I'm not you.” Maya replied.
Cicera raised her hand to slap her face but stopped.
“We'll talk tomorrow, Maya.”
“He's coming to talk to you tomorrow.”
“I don't want him in my house.”
“I know, I think you don’t even want me at home, nor do you want my brother. I told Anésio this, but he said he was coming anyway.”
“I love you, my daughter. Don't say I don't want you here.”
“I love you too, mom. I've always obeyed you, but I want to be able to date him.”
“Go to your room, I still need to work on the computer.”
Maya's mother only slept for a few hours most days, because she always worked overtime.
Cicera cried, fear took hold of her. If her daughter were to get pregnant and be abandoned, it would be another mouth to feed, and then money would be scarce. They would have to move to an even simpler house, and she wouldn't be able to afford school, medical care, and quality food; she was already managing with difficulty, as it were. She cried a lot; she didn't want a reoccurrence of the nightmare; she didn't want it. She ran her hand over her stomach; she had her uterus removed after the birth of her last child, because she didn't want to take any more risks.
She didn't even know what her son was called; she paid a lawyer to do the registration and let Maya choose the name. And at day-care, they called him baby. The child's father had money, yet he didn't take responsibility.
In fact, Cícera wanted to put the boy up for adoption, but she didn't because Maya clung to him, crying that it wasn't fair, that it wasn't fair to not be able to live with her brother. He remained as her baby, but something had died inside her. She knew she needed therapy, but it was either therapy or paying for the things her children needed.
She wiped her tears; sometimes she wanted to cry until she was exhausted, but she didn't have time, not even to cry. The pain was there, but she didn't have time to live with her pain. Maya was born when she was thirteen; now, she was only twenty-eight and at risk of becoming a grandmother, a grandmother! She should have aborted her daughter, that's for sure.
- Writer
