Dear mum, It’s been approximately three years since the last time we spoke. I have to say, I’m very impressed that you’ve actually remembered you have a son! It’s virtually a miracle! You didn’t bother asking, but I can tell you that I’m doing fine in jail and I hope to be free very soon. Your letter was a bit harsh, don’t you think? Considering the fact that now you need my support, I would have imagined a more apologetic letter, full of affection.
.. who am I kidding? Affection? You? It seems like even now, you regard yourself to be the victim of everything that goes wrong. Even now, you prioritise yourself above anyone else.
Even now, you don’t stop all the irrelevant complaining and actually look back to the source to all your problems. Anyway, before I make any decisions about our future, I want to recall a few things about our past. Since you’ve already clarified your half to the story – for once, lets concentrate on my half..
Let’s go back to the very beginning, shall we? You had just discovered you were pregnant. You were a young, naive and innocent girl, pregnant with your lover’s baby, right? Unfortunately for you, I can’t really understand that. To me, you were an immature and stupid little girl, having an affair with a married man! You were in the wrong from the start!It’s unbelievable how you managed to turn things round to make yourself look like the better person.
You thought about losing me, putting me in the yellow bucket. Why didn’t you? Nobody was anticipating my birth! Not dad, not gran, not Aunty Jean…
not even you. I made a conclusion, when I was younger, that my birth was a way for you to let your anger out. My conclusion hasn’t changed. You haven’t benefited me by giving birth to me; in fact, I feel we both would have been better off if I was never born.
What kind of mother is more concerned about her looks than her own baby? Stop bloody moaning over your fat, haggard looking appearance! Truthfully speaking I think your appearance combines well with your personality – you’re ugly on the inside as well as being ugly on the outside. You’re not the only one with a heart full of hatred. Remember my first day of school? My apologies, I had forgotten that you’re not exactly the type of mother who would cherish memories like that. Anyway, it wasn’t only the first day of school, but it was also the first day I witnessed how devoted parents could be; it was the first day I felt unwanted and very confused; it was the first day I began to hate you! Not only was I the only one without a father, but I had never experienced love! I guess neither have you; I mean your own mother rejected you and no one was there for you when you needed them the most.
Surely this should have made us closer? As a child, I was lonely. You were always at work, so I had to learn to keep myself occupied. I learnt to draw. I would draw pictures of what I thought Dad looked like – then remembering him would get me upset and I’d shred the pictures to pieces.
I knew I’d never get my happily ever after. My school life was just as pathetic: I didn’t have any friends. Most of the children at school were too afraid to even stand next to me, probably because their mothers warned them to keep their distances, and after witnessing the usual fights I’d have with everyone, staying away from me became a basic instinct. The teachers weren’t too fond of me either.
They sent me to ‘teacher and student counselling sessions’. They decided that I was having problems at home, and they were concerned that whatever the matter was, it was interfering with my school life. I got annoyed. I refused to go again.
As I got older, my temper grew with me. You couldn’t afford to send me to college and you clearly didn’t like me sitting at home. That’s when I started wandering the streets and ending up with the wrong group of people… I knew they weren’t the right people to mix with, but it turned out we were all sailing on the same boat. Even if they were expertise in crime, I felt I could relate to them. So I joined them.
I began to pick on people on the street. No reason – it seemed fun at the time. It was like a game. Each day you go up a level.
From little arguments, to harassment and then finally to physical abuse. Now I’m sitting in this cell. Lonely and regretful. However I’m not blaming you for the state I’m in today – I’m not like you.
I know if I wanted to, I could have done better with my life, even if I didn’t have much of an education. You did, didn’t you? In fact, you’ve done a lot. You gave birth to me, and you brought me up reasonably well. But you failed to give me the simplest and most vital piece of parenting… love. The countless amount of things I used to do to gain just a little bit of your love.
Come to think of it, it’s rather amusing. I can’t believe I wasted so much time thinking of ways to impress you, when I knew you wouldn’t appreciate anything I did anyway. For a child to grow up thinking that he has to impress his mother to gain love and for him to know that he was a mistake, is worse than living in anguish. What you put me through is unforgivable.
So in conclusion to this letter and our relationship, I guess I just want to apologise for being such a burden and wish you all the best in the future.
