MONTI'S RAGE versus MONTI'S LOVE.

eling of joy but of pain and rage. As she ran towards her mother's door, she could perc

he frustration rushing out of her body; she wished that it could split her

she mu

arious media platforms wasn't true. She knocked a second time, feeling her mum's prese

ou are there, o

you must have seen it,' she

tters. It is always a surprise for her that her mother's behavior is just too wide for such a feeble-hearted woman. S

, or I will break it open and it w

Monti's mother, opened the door. Her eyes looked straight into her daughter's blue ey

oman. Why?" Her voice broke. "Why did you

cri

knew he was your boyfriend; I tho

y friend, yet you could travel an extra mile to s

ears. 'He was the one who approached me. I asked

his whole life. What could I have done? I have no one in my life.

you wouldn't want to explain that kind of story to a deaf person as well. Is that one of your pitiful stories? You should have married

other, regardless. Shouldn't you cons

can continue dating him because that's what you've always wanted since you set your filthy eyes on him the first time. And the bla

e set my eyes on him ever since I saw the video. I would have put him in h

uises all over her right cheek. She realized her mother might have b

to your face?

than the inner bruises I have sustained. You hurt me with your

le-minded woman who would fall for a deceitful, big-balled and tim

never do that; i

see if a few of his luggage were there. And perhaps,I am still

tried to question me, and slapped my face. He asked about you

admission into college. You didn't tell him that his daughter fends for herself, working at a coffee shop from five till nine o'clock

finally calm and walked towards

do that to you. The boy lured me into s

nto sex with him? Instead of you looking for a young man to date ,why don't you return b

interested in s

id that happen

' Sharo

you ,you know what I am ta

at our house. I offered him a drink. I didn't know how it

; he was drunk, and I picked it up. I never knew it would turn out this way; he began to touch me at fir

oung lover's friend ? And how did

ust feel pity for the young boy. I could still face my fears; I am used to it. They call me a street slut

ve to go through at school? The young boy will soon get over it,but my n

tinued, 'But I tell you what, mom, I

een living like this since before you were born.Maybe I was

ng yourself . you know what? I never pray

er body, wishing that it could split her in two.She wanted to feel like a baby again: innocent and lovely, trusting the first person to feed her breast milk, holding firmly to those big fingers. She wished she could h

in rage . She felt pity for her once m

. I might start to admire the life you