My Kids Hate Me (Flash Fiction)

I love telling short stories when the narrator doesn’t even know what’s going on. It’s one of my favorite methods of plot exposition. I think it’s so easy to deceive ourselves, and that it happens every day. I like to analyze why people feel the way they do, or what makes people behave the way they do, so you can see why this kind of writing appeals to me. It’s kind of sad sometimes, I know, but so is life.

The following was my first attempt of a prompt suggested by The 3 A.M. Epiphany. I didn’t stay within the parameters, but I did want to continue the story to see where it led. So, if my writing partner is reading this, don’t worry – I started over today, and now I’m obeying the rules, lol.

I have 2 daughters, and they both hate my guts. Even though Rich says I’m exaggerating, I know he’s wrong. I have proof. For instance, my 70th birthday just passed me by, and it didn’t occur to either of them to stop by for a visit or even call. My whole life is passing me by, and they don’t care a bit.

I have been up all night wondering how in the world they could disrespect the woman that gave them life. I’m sure it’s nothing I did. They must have gone astray somehow – had friends who taught them to hate their mom, or read the wrong kinds of books or watched the wrong kinds of movies. I’ve noticed that most moms in movies don’t love their kids at all, so maybe they’re just getting their ideas from Hollywood.

I can’t stay focused enough to figure it out; I’m too upset. So I have decided to write down what I know and see if the answers come to me.

 

Myra

Myra, she’s my oldest. She’ll be 49 in a couple of months, and she has no clue how good she’s got it. Her husband Frank works a full-time job, and she just sits around all day watching reruns of Golden Girls and sewing afghans. (She’s always been a loner, staying home when her sister and I went out, keeping to herself in her room, barely making an appearance for meals.)

She never had any kids – I guess she doesn’t like the idea of being a mom, since she hates me – and she doesn’t even know what it’s like to have to hold down a job.

Anyway, maybe I can guess what her problem is. When she was real little, she was the only child I had. We spent the first 8 years of her life playing Barbies, coloring together, enjoying games of hide-and-seek. I had to work outside the home, but I always made time for her.

But then Kelly was born, now she was a sick baby, so I had to let Myra sort of figure things out on her own after that. I’m sure it was good for her to finally take some responsibility. I had been molly-coddling her for almost a decade, so it had to end some time.

Myra kept nagging me and demanding my attention, but Kelly was a full-time commitment, and I was real tired when I wasn’t fitzing with her. One day though, she just stopped asking me to play with her.

At the time, I though she must have finally grown up, gained some independence. But that’s probably when she started hating me. Like I said, I’m not sure she ever really understood that I just didn’t have time to cater to her anymore.

Kelly

So I already mentioned Kelly, but she’s my second. I would almost call her my problem-child, except that none of it was her fault. Like I said, she was a sick baby, but that never really got better. Well, anyway, by the time we all learned to cope with her condition, she hated everyone, and me the most.

I tried to give her everything a little girl could possibly want, because I seriously didn’t know how much longer she’d live. I gave her extra candies and hugs when she was little, and all of the latest gadgets and fashionable clothing when she got older.

Myra never cared for any of that stuff. In fact, she moved out before Kelly turned 9.

Out of the blue, Kelly started asking for things that I just couldn’t afford, like that trip to Europe with her friends. She should have realized how much I loved her when I took that extra summer job to pay for her trip to California, but she had already missed her senior class trip, and I guess she never forgave me for that.

 

Well, I won’t lose any more sleep from now on. If they hate me, it’s their own fault for not realizing that I was doing my best for both of them. I can see that bending over backwards to show them that I loved them never did a lick of good, so why even try anymore?

photo credit: dmitryzhkov <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/67084790@N03/33209720101″>4_DSC8944</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

 

 

Advertisements

12 responses to “My Kids Hate Me (Flash Fiction)

  1. Thanks for following my blog, may you find a blessing there!

  2. Intriguing! I want to know more about the second child and her sickness.

    • Thank you! I am still waiting for a piece of flash fiction with a backstory that demands to be told, lol. Maybe this will be the one. 🙂

      • I understand! I recently read the middle grade book “Finding Perfect” and it blew me away how far the author was willing to push her main character. This book is appropriate for 5-6th grade and up.

      • Thank you for the boon recommendation! I think that reading good books and thinking about how the author wrote them is a great way to study and improve our own writing!

  3. This was painful for me to read, and left me rendered helpless, almost speechless. Without knowing a thing about thr author, I take the boldness of saying I am convinced your children do not hate you. If anything, the very fact that you even deal with these thoughts show that you care, which is the first step in being a good mother, or is it not? I am not a mother myself yet, but this is the way I feel. And- let us not forget- you are home- schooling. No one likes it when learning or studying makes it hard for them, this much I know- I have been there- and still am. Frustration is not anger.

    May God Bless.

    Shir.

    • Oh, I am so sorry, Shir. This is a work of fiction. I do not identify with the character’s point of view at all. Thank you for your sweet comment. I hope that I never feel that miserable, for ANY reason! I have a 13 year old son. He and I get along very well, except sometimes when he is working on math or writing, lol. You are right – he doesn’t like the hard subjects! But we love each other through the tough times too, so I am in no present danger of feeling this way.

      My intention with this piece was to set up a scenario in which the character was not really hated, but despised by her daughters. She neglected the eldest after the age of 8 and spoiled the youngest. But I also wanted her to be clueless as to why her daughters didn’t want anything to do with her. I like writing things in which the narrator doesn’t really understand all of the parts of the story she is telling.

      • Perfect. Thanks. Now is the time to admit I do not read entire posts (typical ENFP personality), partially because I am used to summarizing my archaeology documents. Had I read it through, I would have easily recognized it as fiction. I myself cope differently: When I want to write an insight without sharing personal details I go to either fictional, or general. Having seen your writing I would be happy to hear insights, comments (yes, criticism included) and way toimprove them as well! Thanks!

      • I thought that perhaps you didn’t read the preamble, lol. I was just hoping that you wouldn’t lose any sleep over it! You have such a compassionate heart to empathize the way you did. Also, it was a complement to me, because my character seemed like a real person to you.

        I have also been skimming blog posts lately. I guess it’s because I love blogging and interacting, but I need to spend more time living my life too!

        I have been enjoying your blog, and I will be happy to share insights (when I have them, lol)!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s