Mother spent the night with me and didn’t get up until just before first light to get ready for work.
When she came to say goodbye, I clung to her neck.
“It’ll be fine, son. You’ll be all good tomorrow.”
“Mother...” Quietly I murmured what was, perhaps, the greatest accusation of my life.
“Mother, I shouldn’t have been born. I should have been like my balloon...
She sadly stroked my hair. “Everyone should have been born just as they were. You too.
It’s just that sometimes, Zezé, you’re too naughty.”
Chapter Five
A STRANGE, BUT GENTLE, REQUEST
It took me a week to recover completely. My sadness didn’t come from the pain or the blows.
At home everyone had started to treat me so well that it was a bit weird. But something was missing.
Something important that could make me go back to being myself, perhaps believe in people, believe that they were kind.
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