I believe my mother’s heart also could break by her child

jane - China
Entered on January 17, 2007
Age Group: 18 - 30

I believe Mother is also could break her hearts by her child

She was there for my hand to grasp when it would; I thought she was a serving woman who will take care of me forever. I thought it was inevitable that she would give in, and concede to my opinion. My mother is the only person I know who is willing to repress her rage, containing her tears just because she loves me. I had never imagined that she could be hurt by my meaningless words because she never told me about her feelings before. However, I believe her heart could break by me, her bad daughter.

I was locked up in the dimly-lit academy while other people enjoyed their Christmas. I hesitated for an hour to make a decision; should I skip the class or just stay in the academy? Ultimately, I chose to escape from the academy and I met my friend. We went to a restaurant and ordered cans of beers to drink and down our sorrows away. At first, the taste of beer was bitter and unsavory, but as we drank more and more, it was not bitter anymore but tasted delicious. We got out from the restaurant and walked down the road which was full with Christmas songs and Christmas trees. We treaded and hopped on the ground which covered with floating ice. The ground jumped up and down and spun around and around. Suddenly, I knocked a person beside me by mistake. I got a fright and took a step back. That person had four heads which were waving and shaking. Subsequently, that monster slapped my cheek, and I recovered consciousness quickly. When I looked up, I realized that “four faced” monster was my mother!

My mother had rosy cheek with no coat. Maybe shocked at the news which I escaped from academy. Her body looked really cold but her eyes were warlike, they looked much colder for me. My brain stopped, I racked my mind for an excuse but with no lock. When we arrived home, she held a stick with anger. I stood with rolled up trousers to my knees and stood in front of her like a prisoner. She whipped me on my calf with that stick. I felt terrific hurt. But I fought my tears back with difficulty.

“You are a student! How can you drink beer outside? How can you skip class without my permission! I am ashamed of you!” she shouted in a voice like thunder.

“Don’t be ashamed of me! It’s my life, and you don’t have any right to hit me. I’m not your puppet!” I cried, and ran into my room.

Until midnight I didn’t open the door for anybody. Finally, I came out from my room and drank a cup of water. When I was going back to my room, I heard a sound of blubbering. I saw my mother crying, so I went over and nestled her. It was an impulsive action. We cried through the night tighter without saying anything.

After that Christmas, I realized my mother is also a human who can cry and get angry like me. Seventeen was an age of learning growing up. I was a mature girl whose mind and thoughts reached adulthood. That time, I kept lying to my mother, and to my self. However, that also made me be kind to my mother and make her hurt less. I believed my mother’s heart also could break by her child. This is the most valuable believe in my life.