Trapped Within – Part 2

Michael Mind

You can read Part 1 here

He stared at countless walls, with his face tucked in the corners. The strange woman would often put him there for reasons unknown. He would stare at the intricate detailing of the paint. The smooth curves and the wrinkles were intertwined, creating a fascinating canvas on the wall. He found that he could change the patterns with just a simple scratch or the digging of his nails beneath the curves. He was excited when he realized that by doing so, he could also create mountains and plains and even change the color of the scenery.

Over a period of days, after re-creating the canvas on various walls throughout the home, the strange woman abruptly led him away. He was disappointed that he could no longer work on the walls, but found peace once again when he realized that the woman had a new canvas for him. She led him onto the floor where he found thousands of ripples similar to mountain peaks and threads sticking up in the form of trees. The strange woman must have really liked his work that time, because he noticed that she began staying in the room, watching him. Unfortunately though, he was only given enough time to just make a few small valleys, before being led away from there too.

Throughout his five years in this unusual world, he often heard people talking about how he was different from the rest. This he couldn’t quite comprehend because he didn’t feel any different. Sure, he often watched as other kids played together while he was left alone by himself. But, that didn’t make him different. That was just how he preferred it to be. He didn’t understand the games kids would play or how and why they talked back and forth together. Therefore, it was more enjoyable and much less complicated for him just to play alone.

It was on the playground though, where a couple years later a revelation came to him. He was watching other boys and girls when he noticed that they also had strange women with them. When the kids wanted to get their attention they would call these women, “Mom”. The women would then look over to them, help them or give them the things they had asked for.

After rehearsing this word in his mind, he suddenly remembered that he had heard it before. The strange woman had said that word many times, but he never understood what it meant or why she said it. Finally, after much consideration the day came when the boy decided to try this word out on the strange woman. He called out to her saying, “Mom”. She turned to him in shock and surprise, with the largest upward curve of her mouth that he had ever seen. Within seconds the water was coming from her face and she cautiously walked over to him, hugged him and pressed her lips tightly to his forehead. Her actions startled him and he quickly pulled away. However, this time was different. Although the water was still flowing, he saw that the curve of her mouth stayed upright.

She looked at him and said, “Mom? You called me Mom. I’ve waited for this day for 7 years!” This wasn’t the same reaction he had gotten all those times he had re-created the canvas on the walls. In fact, it was a much different one. This reaction made him feel good inside. With that, he decided from that day forward he would call the strange woman, “Mom”.

This is my son. This is his story.

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6 Responses to Trapped Within – Part 2

  1. zuhamazhar says:

    wow! I’m curious about why he is different.. is there a third part to this?

    Like

  2. Love! What an amazing moment! I remember feeling like my daughter would NEVER say it (she called me Dada because M’s were too hard for her). I knew it shouldn’t matter and it had nothing to do with whether she loved me or if I was a good mom. But when I finally heard it… nothing like it!

    Like

    • mewhoami says:

      Oh yes! Nothing like it definitely. It’s another one of those things that people so easily take for granted. I did too, until I had to wait for so many years to hear my son say it.

      Like

  3. Pingback: Trapped Within – Part 1 | Me - Who am I?

  4. Pingback: When Eye Contact Goes Awry | Me – Who am I?

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