It seemed as though my mother was never there. Never there to take me to practices, never there to pick me up. One moment she was telling me how she would love to come to my game and the next only a phantom remained. It seemed as though my mother was never there. Not there when I won the state championship, not there for when my play came in second. I couldn’t tell you how many times the rain soaked through my clothes as I waited for someone, anyone, to pick me up. It seemed as though my mother was never there. Never there when I needed a shoulder to cry on, never there when I needed someone to listen. She was always so quick to leave me behind, to disregard me for something seemingly more important. I had always made her pick, me or my sister. In the end the realization that she never picked me sunk in. My mother was never there.
Phantom
More by Crow
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Labels
When you label someone you put them in a box.
A child has to be innocent, a woman has to be perfect, a man has to be strong. All these labels that we have for everything and anything. -
Perfectly Imperfect
People have always told me that I’m perfect. I’m this shiny object that doesn’t have an imperfection in sight. But people don’t know that nobody is perfect, and that even seemingly perfect people have cracks. -
Mother Knows Best
Mother knows best. That’s what they always say. But what happens when she doesn’t know best, what then. I am left out in the sea whirling as the currents push me this way and that.
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