If you’re in search of a story that will be enthralled with much drama, and delight, you should read some other short story. In this short story, there is sorrow from the beginning, and the middle. This is because Onyx was born with sorrow, her face was disfigured from an man eating virus in her mother’s womb, and five months later while she was in surgery this same virus returned with an vengeance, and eaten her mother. Onyx felt extremely cursed, hopeless, stricken with grief, and most of all she just wanted to go be with her mommy.
Onyx lived with her rich, very rich father in the Breeze of Chateu Lumo, which used to be Maharajah Eurul Chateu her late grandfather the great King of the North. Shortly after Lumo died her husband wanted to do something grand in the memory of her, so he renamed the Chateu.
This particular morning was hot, and sunny, and the Chateu would only be opened for a couple of hours for tourist. On days such as these Onyx would dress in her mother’s swept pink long garb, and the pink lace head adorned, and stand in the same opening in which her mother stood weeping “ I’m a victim of life, and circumstance of no control! Mommy died when I was five- months old!" She would then quickly disappear, before her grandnana would appear to applause her for the performance.
For years Onyx associated the voice of her childhood friend’s mommies voices with that of her mommy. There were even times she would brush up against unknown mommies just to inhale the smell of a mommy. Onyx was forever reminded that her mommy-to-child, child-to mommy would only exist in other mommies.
Onyx was bitter, and totally out of presence with reality, and she was only soothed when she would lay in her mommies sunbed, and speak aloud her many thoughts. “I’ll never have a mommy, I’ll only have these pictures, and videos that express how she existed in this life so short of mine. Father, and grandnana did the best they could by affording me these luxuries of life. But without my mommy I’ll never be happy or complete.
If only I could express verbally to father my many thoughts, and grand illusions that interplay in my mind daily about mommy, but I know it would just end up being another therapy sessions. Therefore I bottle-up my hell, and keep it hidden deep within me.
I was told when I was a baby I was withdrawn, and when I was a toddler I was detached. And when I was school age I was out of control. All of these negative stigmatism resulted in thirty years of therapy, and many, many, counseling sessions. If my recollection is correct I’ve been to one-thousand- nine- hundred-seventy-two therapy sessions. I’ve cute myself five hundred fifty seven times, and I tried to commit suicide ten times, and I have one-hundred ninety-nine tattoos from my breast down to my thighs. All of my tattoos are symbolic to my mommies death in 1999. The only reasons I tatted from my breast to my thighs was that I needed a reminder for myself, not a reminder to eveyone else that I am living in my hell without my mommy.
My grandnana has always said “If people are going to self-medicate by marking up their body then very well it should be of no one else business.” My entire life has existed of people observing me, analyzing me, and then diagnosing me, so tatting is my own solace. I’ve been on all sorts of medication, hell I’ve even been medicated without my permission. Therefore I’m in no way going to be judged by my tattoos. I hope that makes sense, I hope it does.
Just maybe if someone showed me step by step how to stop the dreams, illusions, and imaginations of mommy I wouldn’t attempt cut myself again, or try and commit suicide again. The only thing I’ve heard pertaining to this bottled up hell is “She loved you more than anything.” “Time heals all wounds,” “She’ll be forever in your heart.” There are so many more I just care not to mention them, since they all mean the same, I'll never know mommy.
Causes Susie Hill Supports
ROCKFORD FIRST MINISTRIES. ZOE CHILDREN HOME. RAINBOW OF FAITH AND HOPE MINISTRIES. DAY STAR CHRISTIAN BROADCASTING. CBN THE CHRISTIAN BROADCASTING NETWORK...