I feel like the most unwanted and loved child in this world.
Since the day I was born, nobody would look at me. I hadn’t thought that even
my mom would leave me abandoned. Everyone cried after the day was born. It left
me amazed. I mean like who does that? I was their only child at that time in
the family and all they did was cry after I came to this world.
I don’t remember much how I was brought into the house and
why I was brought if they didn’t like me being born. The hatred for me in the
house started growing. Nobody would put an eye on me or even care what I was
doing. I barely remember family members feeding me. I don’t know what I grew up
eating. I use to cry every time, not because I was hungry but to pull my family
members towards me. I couldn’t understand that there was a baby in the house
and nothing would even care a bit. Everyone had something for me as a gift too,
but they rather kept it inside the room than giving it to me. I don’t know if
they regretted buying that gift for me after they saw me for the first time or
was it for the time when I grow old.
A day at home passed, a week had already completed and
similarly a month too, but people were still busy ignoring me. From that very
day I vowed myself not to be an attention seeker and never to communicate with
anyone else but myself. I never tried to look at my reflection because I never
had courage to look at myself. Walls were my mirror and my friend. Likewise
days were slowly turning into year and still no one would come to me. I didn’t
know that the world was so much selfish. I thought if my own family members
were behaving in such a manner, what would the world react upon my existence. I
was not superficial for my family. I often noticed people in that house looking
at the backyard whenever incident about me came out on a talk. I didn’t take
that seriously as every time I thought they were talking about me, I only
wished they could hold me up and give their love. But the day never came.
I still remember my first birthday. It was a black day for
me. Nobody was excited. It was a normal day for everyone. Nobody even looked at
me. It was another day of isolation for me. Nobody cared where I was, what I
was doing and how happy I was. I waited and waited for a single person to come
beside me and greet me, but nobody came. Even if they passed by me, they would
act like I didn't exist. There was one woman in the house who looked at my
pictured and cried, my mother. I still remember as soon as her eyes got watery
she threw away the picture and ran away. I tried to reach my hands towards her
and speak but couldn't do. All she did was run outside and locked the room.
I wasn't sad actually. It already had been 365 days of
isolation for me. I wasn’t sad because people were ignoring me. I was amused as
people didn't care for me while I was still there among them. I was like dead for
them. They were happy with what there were excluding my presence. As I was
accompanying myself since no one would do that for me, I heard my dad entering
house. He wasn't alone. I saw a boy with him. I could never forget that face as
that face was brought to take over my place in the family. He was my brother
who was adopted from an orphanage. I could not hold anymore, I cried but the
tears wouldn't come out. I cried and only I witnessed my sadness.
I went to the place where I grew up talking with walls and
started crying again. As I was crying by my own, I heard something from the
window. I heard a woman’s voice loud but unclear. As I went nearby the window I
recognized the voice as my mother’s. My mother was at the backyard, looking at
some stone circled with beautiful flowers and crying. She kept on staring that
stone for quite a long time. I kept on staring at her and wished she would stare
back at me. Suddenly she looked at the window, my heart skipped a beat for my
mother. She picked a card from the backyard and returned to the house. I kept
looking at that stone, but the view from my window wasn’t clear. Suddenly I
heard some sound of people coming to my room. I rushed towards the door and
waited for someone to open it. The foot step stopped outside the door and there
was no movement for a long period of time. I could feel someone’s hand on the
door knob as if s/he was going to open it. But they didn’t. A card was pushed in
the room through the bottom of the door. The letter said, “Dear child, I don’t
consider myself as your mother as I could never give the love other babies get,
and never saw you. I wish they saved you instead of me. Happy birthday Son.” I
don’t know how to react. Grounds were falling off my feet. I went to the window
again and stretched out to see the stone. There was no name but the date, and
the date resembled my date of birth/death.
Thank you for going through. Sorry for the mistakes, if any. Feedback is always welcomed.
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