My eyes flutter open to see a familiar yet unfamiliar crappy room, and a boy hovering over me with tears in his eyes. "Anthon." I mutter under my breath, is he really my son? The memories of his difficult childbirth come back to me, the hours of constant screaming and pain, and the ear shattering wails of a child.
"Mom, are you alright?" He asks in a childlike voice, I want to scream at the top of my lungs that nothing is alright. I want to cry and scream, throwing a tantrum like a little baby. "Everything's okay, how about you?" I say, my voice noticeably hoarse. Anthon looks visibly surprised, his round eyes look quite cute.
"Anthon I'm sorry for all the things I have done to you. I grew up being beaten and scolded for being born a girl, I never thought I was hated since I was told I was loved and cherished. I thought that being loved meant being scolded and in pain. I never had any outside resources to show that this was wrong, I was shackled to the house. Then when I married your father it was the same thing, being beaten and scolded but still told the sickening words I love you. I thought this was normal behavior in everyone's family, and that this was the correct way to raise a child. Manipulation, pain, and harsh words. Anthon this is just an explanation, you don't have to forgive me. I understand if you don't wish to see me or speak to me since I have done something unforgivable. I apologize, and promise to never do it again." I say with a heavy heart, and bow my head to avoid his expression.
"Mom I still love you, I always have. Admittedly sometimes I hated you but other times you made me love you, like when you bought me that puppy. You have done things wrong but if you change for the better then it is all in the past." Anthon says his voice quivering, I can hear his held back sobs. Tears trickle down my eyes as I motion for him to get on the bed. I hug him softly and we both sob to our hearts content, until I'm too exhausted to do anything but slowly drift asleep.