Once Bitten, Twice Shy

She loved her mother dearly, her mother loved her dearly.

Despite this, she had a sharp tong. One day, she ran her mouth a little bit too much. Her mother felt hurt and slapped her.

She didn't know what she had done wrong. Sure, she had been slightly more annoyed than usual, but she didn't think she had done anything overboard.

She felt wronged. It was just the usual, why was her mother acting like she did something terribly wrong?

It took a while but tears started welling up in her eyes. Her mother didn't apologise but told her to stop crying because she (mother) had been the one hurt.

She didn't understand. She ended running away to her room. She felt panicked. She felt frustrated. She felt angry.

She started pounding her pillow. It was soft, like her all-out punch did nothing. It made her angrier. She bawled her eyes out whilst hugging her giant teddy bear.

She couldn't take this. This was unfair. She said all she wanted to her bear. She hugged it as if her it were a problem of life and death.

After having calmed down a bit, she looked at the door. She thought that if it were the usual her father would come in to talk to her, as if to manage her.

She wished there were a lock on that door. Although she always listened to her father, she didn't like it. He would pick neither side, only pick faults in both sides.

Every time she would vow to hate the people who caused her frustrations forever. However, after the tears would've dried up, she would fall asleep because her eyes felt tired.

Afterward, she would begrudgingly talk to others and after an hour or so she would be back on track with her happy-go-lucky personality.

This time however, her mother slapped her. Feeling extremely wronged, she didn't really want to get close to her mother anymore.

She fell asleep.

What awoke her from her nap was a delicious smell of food coming from downstairs. She left her room and went down.

Her mother stood in the kitchen as if nothing was wrong. As if the earlier incident hadn't happened at all.

She felt frustrated but forced herself to focus on the food. She asked what they were going to eat.

Her mother said she'd tell her after she sets the table. The girl obeyed and started setting the table.

After setting the table she called her father and sister saying it's dinner time.

Today was her turn to pray. God was the person who always listened to her tantrums and frustrations, together with her teddy bear.

After praying they started eating. It was very yummy. She didn't want to admit her mother made yummy food. She was still angry.

She said how it could use some more salt, that it was greasy.

Her father gave her a displeased look. She, herself was also displeased so she shut up, annoyed.

Her sister had already long left the dinner table to day-dream land. After being disconnected for a while, she started talking about the least relevant topics.

Normally she would give her sister a reaction, but this time she just quietly ate her dinner.

A few days passed.

The mother came home, she had a tumor and they needed an operation to remove it.

The girl was at a loss.

Since the day her mother had slapped her, she was less responsive toward her mother's hugs and kisses, and if you listened closely to her happy-go-lucky way of talking, you'd notice that she didn't say 'I love you' anymore.

She didn't know what to do and felt frustrated. She couldn't help her mother.

Her frustration blew a fuse. She repeated a mistake she never wanted to repeat.

She let her mouth run once more. Her mother was even angrier this time, because of the added stress. She punched her daughter in the face.

She used all her strength. The girl felt her cheek beating. She was dazed before she realised that this whole thing was her mistake.

She wanted to apologise, but maybe because things always went her way, and she thought she was very loved by god, she had too much pride to do it.

Once more wronged, but this time filled with guilt, she ran to her room. She let out all her frustrations on her teddy bear and fell asleep again.

She woke up and had dinner.

She didn't dare approach her mother anymore. She rejected all her clingy advances. She didn't say any word of affection to her mother again.

The day for her mother to have her surgery came.

Together with her sister and father they waited outside the operation room. They waited the entire night. A doctor came to explain.

The surgery didn't work out. Even now, they were only barely keeping her alive with all the appliances.

They were told to say their last words, they couldn't afford to keep her alive for too long.

They entered the room. The woman looked the same as before. The only exception was that her skin looked pale in comparison to her natural tan.

She asked her two daughters to come closer. Their eyes were already filled with tears and their father was already holding his face with his big hands, in an attempt to hide the slightly salty water.

The woman expressed her love to both her daughters. She told them how proud she was, how happy she was to have them as kids.

The sister told her already many times. 'I love you.'

The girl however, couldn't say a thing. She truly wanted to apologise, express her gratitude, and most importantly, say 'I love you.' Her throat didn't seem to allow her to speak.

Next it was their father's turn to talk to her. The girls let go of their mother's thin hands.

They both left the ward. Outside the ward, both of them continued crying silently, paying no heed to one another.

Their father left the ward. The doctor came and deactivated the appliances.

The girl tried to desperately stop crying. She already lost track of how many times she'd wiped away her tears already.

A day passed.

A solemn mood hung over the house of a now three people family. The sister woke up a whole lot later than her father and younger sister.

Her eyes were red and puffy. The girl was the same, and so was their father. He was busy with planning the burial.

He didn't notice the angry looks his older daughter was swnding to his younger one. Seeing how the younger girl was more detached than ever, her pent-up stress exploded.

She slapped her. Once, twice, three times... she had already lost count. The father came in to stop them.

He was not really mentally up for it. He didn't feel like coaxing either of them at this moment. He was already trying his best keeping himself okay.

However, contrary to the expected tantrum of his younger daughter, she didn't have any reaction.

As if she hadn't noticed she was slapped. Her eyes were lifeless. As if her string had been cut off.

Since then, she hadn't been able to reconnect her string to anyone in her life.