Untitled...

I take a state of mind and illustrate it with incidents. This is just one of those stories.

Even the wind was dead. The trees had long stopped swaying in the breeze; their comforting rustle faded slowly into a deafening silence.

 

A Divine silence…

 

Just Anam and I, sitting on a meager tuft of grass- she deserved better. Better than this, better than me … I was neglecting her, ignoring her. I was worse than a selfish cat- an ungrateful brother.

She was my only comfort. She stuck to me like a burr, trotting after me with her soft smile, radiant if I stopped for a second to smile back. A touch of her gentle hand would soothe away all the trouble in my heart.

 

Anam reached hesitatingly out to me and gave my burning hand a slight squeeze. I responded to the pressure of her fingers, but I could dismiss the ugly fact no longer.

 

We were motherless.

 

Not merely orphans, as other children were, with memories and stories of their mothers to lull them into sweet dreams. There were not even pictures of her in the house, or any letters…it was like she had never been here at all.

 

An eternal vacuum…

 

I needed to know where she was �" whether she was severed from us forever, or whether she lived still … and ifso, why she had chosen thus to abandon us? Why did my cheeks lack the rosiness, my eyes the complacent self-assurance of those blessed with a mother’s caresses? I needed to know.

 

“Anam, we are leaving.” My voice was uncharacteristically harsh. Anam was building a little house of clay, but she did not argue. Not her. She knew I was upset and she would do nothing to aggravate me. Her own face was sad and serious as she stood up, and her eyes brimmed suddenly with sympathetic tears.

 

The perfect angel…

 

My father interpreted my countenance to perfection �" he always did read me like an open book. Suddenly, he looked an old man; a sort of resignation crossed his face as I planted my self resolutely in front of him.

 

Anam had tiptoed up the stairs to her room. I was glad; for all her sweet seriousness she was little more than a baby.

 

“You want to know why you don’t have a mother, don’t you?” he said softly.

 

I remained silent, offering no answer to this assumption except the slightest of grim nods. He carried on with another sigh.

 

“Well Raza, I think it is time I told you. For the past six years I have been trying �" but I was always too much of a coward … It was so easy just to keep on hiding it, instead of �" here. Look at this.”

 

He extracted a highly folded, yellowing envelope out of his breast pocket. My clammy hands grasped it desperately.

 

It was a photograph. Through the faded card Anam’s eyes twinkled at me from the pretty young face tha had to belong to … my mother? I raised my head. Father nodded. We looked away hastily, unable to look long into each other’s tearful eyes. Shaking his head, he began.

 

“Let me tell you a story. Your mother’s story. A warrior’s story. One summer morning, while you and Ito your Uncle’s house, people from a neighbouring village raided our little hamlet. It was an old family feud between the landlords - we had nothing to do with it. It was an enmity passed down through the generations. It is like war; the common people just get caught up in the fighting. Innocent, defenseless and helpless people. That’s how it is.”

 

“What happened? How did Anam and I survive? Why didn’t she escape like us?” I needed answers, though I was not sure now that I would not regret it.

 

“Your mother was a determined and courageous woman. When the villains attacked our house she hid Anam. She could have tried escaping with Anam, but it might have cost both their lives. She could not bear the thought of Anam dying. All the odds were against her, but she never gave in.”

 

I was so glad my mother didn’t give up, that she had been courageous and noble �" a true ideal of motherhood. She had provided me my only comfort in life. Anam. I could not bear the thought of life without Anam. As I trudged up the stairs to my room, Anam ran out from her hiding place (she had been listening all the time) and hugged me. I clutched her to my chest and silently thanked Mother for her priceless gift…

 

SOUL LESS.

Author's Note

Any constructive criticism and suggest a title.
P.s. I edited it a little. What do you think of it now?

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

The piece seems to lack emotion in places and makes statements instead of letting the reader "feel" anything. You should build sympathy for your characters and MAKE the reader FEEL for them. Also, the primary rule of fiction is, "SHOW, don't tell". What this means is, instead of saying... (he was sad and heartbroken and wept bitterly)...one might say...( Hands crushing his cheeks; tears spilled between between spread fingers as he sobbed)...let the reader see...hear...smell...taste and feel for themselves. Good desciption can carry even a lackluster story to readability.

[Joseph Gregory]

It's not my forte to critsize. Let me ask. Is this the first draft edited once?
I like this story a lot. It captured my interest when father described mother as a warrior and,courageous.
By the way. You've already written the title."A Warrior's Story"

[patricia]

I thought you got the little sisters emotions across well, and even portrayed the older brothers guilt for not reciprocating...it would have been good to know...why if the mother was a hero was the only picture of her kept in an envelope? I think this story could be developed into a much longer piece. Good topic, good introduction, check out...(while you and Ito your uncles house) heh??? An interesting read. Thankyou.

[Beckycharliee]

This is a really good piece of writing, pleasure to read.

Peace Out.

[Sarusai Hiryu]

Agree with Fabian...

[Moebia]

This was very intriguing. You're very talented with poetry and it reflects on this story. I am impressed. A great write and an honor to read.

However, I do encourage that you put a bit more emotion into your story. "Show" instead of "tell". Otherwise, I enjoyed it.

~Paula

[Call Me Blu]

Nice. Tjis story seems to flow alot better, although there are a few areas where it got a little stiff. This is an overall great story, it just needs a little refinement in the area of an introduction to the father. Maybe say what started the fued. I think a good title would be,"My eternal gift" You seem to say that alot in this peice and it reallyu gets at the idaea. All you need for this to be perfect is a little more description and introduction to the characters. Great framework.

[S.C. Sparrow]

Good balance of show and tell, and you didn't have any "he said", "he replied" etc. I really enjoyed reading it.
I think a fitting title would just be "Anam".
For me, Anam is kind of a symbol, representing life, comfort, and a gift from the mother; and of course, love.

[Arsenic Nemesis]

A wonderful little story here, really nicely written and presented. A lot of depth and emotion in this makes it a very interesting read indeediums. I liked it a lot, keep up the good work!~

[azeilc]

hey! i think the story's nice but short ;( id would really love to read more of this so keep writing. I'm a small writer so I guess I don't know much yet :) Have fun continuing this story and sorry I can't help you with the title cause I kinda suck at thinking of titles. The content's what's important anyway.