There once was a woman with a child. This woman did everything thing she could to make sure that her child could have a good life. As time passed she got more and more jobs, and as life went on she didn't have enough time as she would've liked for her daughter. There once was a woman that didn't realize how much her child needed her until it was too late; the woman was in a coma.
There once was a neglected daughter. This daughter did everything thing she could to get her mother to get to notice her. As time passed she got more and more distant, and as life went on she felt more and more lonely. There once was a daughter that would've loved to open up to her mother, but it was too late; her mother was in a coma.
There once was a neglected daughter. There once was a woman with a daughter. They were both strangers that knew each other very well.
Every third day the daughter would go and visit her mother. This daughter had been visiting her mother for two years. The doctors had told the daughter that the mother could hear her, but her mother wasn't able to respond. With each visit, the daughter felt more comfortable talking to her mother. She would make small talk--even though she was talking to herself. She liked the fact that she could talk and didn't need to face what her mother would have to say, but she also longed to hear her mother's voice. This daughter wanted to tell her mother what she felt for once, her fears and her joys. Today was the third day. Today was the day she would tell her mother what she felt, about her fears and joys.
As the daughter walked down the corridor that she had walked down over the years, she realized that it seemed different in a way. Somehow the corridor had a different light, somehow the corridor didn't seem so cold. The daughter quickly erased this thought, after all she was just nervous about trusting someone completely. Number 201. She had arrived. The daughter lightly tapped the door three times, hoping one of these days her mother would be able to answer. The daughter let herself in, and braced herself for what she was about to tell. But she didn't care, today was the day.
"Hi mom, how are you? Me? I'm fine, thank you. Actually... something's bothering me. Not bothering me, but its just been on my mind for a while. Ok, I'll just get on with it now." The daughter looked up from the ground, and took a deep breath. "I just feel like I've been living in a shadow that you've made for me. Today I was looking at my friends and wondered how great it would be to have no expectations at all. I work so hard to impress you, but its never enough for you. I just want to know if you're proud of me, I just want you there when I need you, I just want to be able to trust people. And I feel you took that away from me. You isolated me so much that I don't know how to trust, and because I can't trust, I can't love. And I want to feel loved from someone for once."
The daughter quietly closed the door and took a seat next to her mother's bed and took her hand. "Why couldn't you just love me? It's not enough that you know it, I should know you love me too. I realized how alone I am, I realized that for most of my life I have gone through all my experiences alone. Well I'm tired of being alone. I want someone to care." The mother felt a teardrop on her hand. "I want someone to know me through and through and to make up for the love I lost from you. I want to be in love mom, but I can't love someone if I can't bring myself to trust them. You know what I do mom? I pretend that guys are fighting to love me, I pretend that my life is carefree. But I don't want to pretend! I want to feel it, I want to feel someone to hold me like nothings will ever take me away from them."
The mother now felt a steady shower of tears, and could feel her daughter convulsing to the side of her. The mother was fighting so much to make herself heard but it wasn't working."I feel numb, but I want to be alive. You want to know why I love grandma so much? It's because she would wipe away my tears, its because she would listen to me, its because she would make me feel something. But she's gone now." The daughter slammed her hand on the side of the bed now immersed in her tears. "But you want to know the main reason why I loved her? It's because she would hold me. She used to hold me." The child was now gasping for breath, and repeating the last two phrases.
The mother now knew she wasn't able to fight through to her little girl, so instead she thought. "Don't worry baby, I'll hold on."