Not inspired by anything, just a random idea I had. Uh, yeah, enjoy?
I opened my eyes for the very first time, and saw the bright and green world for all its magnificent glory. I clung to my mother, with my single stubby limb, curled in on myself and brand new. Help me, my precious child, her soft voice whispered through me, clear and crisp as the morning breeze. Yes, mama, I replied, and slowly stretched myself out to catch the trickling rays of sunlight to help my mother live.
Days and days passed by. My brothers and sisters helped out mother with unwavering loyalty. The hot sun we basked in did little to deter us. The occasional wind barely tried to knock us away from our tall and proud mother. I heard laughter and kisses, my mother groaning as a knife carved into her. I feared for her, but she did not fall. So I worked even harder to make her healthy and strong.
The days got colder, and my siblings started to fall. I was scared. Why were they leaving our strong and powerful mother? What did they have to fear? Go, little one, she called to me. I stubbornly held on, my stubby limb refusing to let go of her finger. Join your siblings. I said no, and continued to stretch myself out for my mother. She needed my help always, and I would not abandon her like the others.
Colder and colder, the wind grew howling. Still, I clung. Still, I held on. My soft and bright skin threatened to wither and brown; still, I held on. The wind promised to carry me to safety; still, I held on. I could hear my siblings, oh so far away. Their crackling laughter joining in with a child's game of run and hide; still, I held on. I grasped my mother's finger oh so tight, even as I was the last to remain. She coaxed me to go, to leave her and be happy for the rest of my days. I shook my head; still, I held on.
I grew weak and tired; my grasp loosened. My mother, my strong and loving mother, sung to me as I finally fell. The wind saw my fall and swept beneath me, gentling the ride and bringing me to someplace safe. There was a child and a mother, playing in a field. The colors all around us were so bright and vibrant. I loved the new sight, so different from the luscious green I was used to.
The grass embraced me, and I curled up against it. The child saw my gentle landing and raced over, grabbing my arm and shaking me around like a madman. My shouts of protest went unheard, but the instinct of a mother must be strong in this one, as the tall woman came over to her shrieking child—to me. Her fingers were so soft and kind as she took me from those grubby and choking ones, as if she knew just how fragile I was now. She turned me around, brushing those kind fingers over my face. Before I knew it, I was being carried off to someplace unknown.
I don't know how long I sat in this darkness, pressed between two sheets of white. I was forced to lay flat by the child, and then I could feel and see nothing but darkness and pressure, which a tint of white from all around me. My skin was now brown and black, but, thanks to the gentle mother, unscathed. I wanted to curl up again, to turn on my side and close my eyes. But I couldn't. I was stuck. I was forced to bear this fate of mine.
The light poured through, and the sheet of white above me was removed. I could see large green eyes peering down at me. The child. Then those hands, those kind and soft hands, coaxing the child away from me. The mother smiled down at me and softly sung a lullaby while she worked. I was moved into a cradle of wood; the scent reminded me of my mother. She was now holding something, but I couldn't see what. She placed the invisible thing over me, but it wasn't tight or restricting like before.
My cradle was moved, placed high above it all. The child, sitting upon the floor, watched as the kind mother put me high up in the air, where I belonged. Her smile was all I needed as I gazed down. Reassurance and pride. I was tall and proud, like my mother. I was worthy of being gazed upon. I was treated with the ultimate kindness, by this gentle woman.
My fate has been sealed, and I couldn't find anything worth changing.
How proud would my mother be of me?
