Today was a big day for me. I was going to mention to my mom about the parent teacher meeting coming up in my college. I was hesitant and also a little nervous. Every time I mentioned something like a PTA meeting, my mom would always cut me off and tell me that it would clash with her drinking time. But, this time, I wouldn't back down as easily. I thought that if mom started attending such meetings and had something other than alcohol occupy her mind, maybe she would go back to the sweet lady she was back then.
In evening, mom stumbled home. Just like every other day, she went straight to sleep on the sofa. I knew I had to act now or else I would never be able to step up again.
"Mom."
I called out to her timidly. She didn't hear me obviously, even I myself couldn't hear my voice. So, with some force I called out to her again.
"Mom"
"Mmhm"
"Mom, we have a parent teacher meeting tomorrow, why don't you come and attend it this time. You could meet my friends and their parents, you know, socialize a little?"
"Benji, you know how I feel about those pointless meetings. They are not going to say anything important anyway so my time is better spent in the bar."
"Mom, please, you have to come, for me, please?"
"No means no, now get away, I need some rest."
"No mom. You must come or else I will keep annoying you all night."
"Why are you being so forceful? Learn to obey your parents. This is not the values your father and I taught you."
"Pfft." A small laugh escaped my lips. Then, she opened her eyes. She looked me dead in the eyes and asked me with a heavy gaze.
"What's funny?"
"Nothing."
"Benji, tell me or I'll get angry."
I had no other option. I had to say it. There was no room for fear. What was the most that could happen? Maybe saying this would bring her to her right mind as well. So, filling myself with self-confidence, I told her "What father? You and I both know he was not around to teach me anything. The only thing I can even learn from is how to run away and live like a cowa--"
I was slapped.
"Your father was a saint. I know he didn't leave me. He must have an explanation that he will give when he returns. Never insult such a great man in front me."
I clutched my hands to my cheeks, tears softly running down my face. It felt bad. I felt miserable. Not pain, misery. I felt truly miserable. My own mom, who had never even touched me forcefully once, slapped me. The realization set in. I knew then what I should've known years ago. It was gone. My family was no more. My dream would forever remain a blissful world I would only experience when I sleep.
"Go away at once and reflect on your mistakes."
As if what she did earlier wasn't enough, she said this. I felt cold. It felt as if someone had poured cold water on my body. I mindlessly nodded and walked away to my room. How and when I reached my room, i had no clue. Then, I cried. I hadn't cried a single time since the whole fiasco with my father. But I just couldn't hold it in. I cried and cried and cried. I don't know how long it lasted neither did I know how I felt. This feeling inside me, it wasn't just because my mom hit me, it was because she hurt me. Now I truly felt alone in this world.
'Why is this happening to me? What did I do to deserve this?'
I repeated in my mind. I truly couldn't understand why fate punished me to such a degree. I always fulfilled my filial duties, I always helped others when I could, I always kept a smile on my face despite everything. So why? Why was I the one who had to suffer? This slap from mom wasn't a physical jab at me. It was mental. Every bad thought I had suppressed for the last 2 years of my life burst out like a dam. I wept like a baby. Then, my body gave out.
I woke up the next morning. Opening my eyes groggily, I recalled what had happened last night.
"Life."
This was the only word I thought of that time. Then, I smiled. And went on with my day. I cooked the food, left it on the table for mom, and went to college. While returning home, I heard something about a new student from the students around me. I ignored them as usual and returned home. I saw that the meal I had cooked for mom was half eaten. I disposed of the other half and went on to my room. There, I looked at myself in the mirror and stopped smiling for a split second. Then, as if nothing had happened, I had my previous expression on.
But I knew something had happened, and I knew something deep inside of me was changing.