Memory

Memory

 "And the prince carried his princess onto the white horse, and galloped into the sunset." Adil’s mother gazed upon his sleepy face.

"They lived happily ever after, right Aunty?" He asked.

"Yes, sweetie," She stroked his hair gently, "They got married and lived happily ever after."

"Will you and daddy get married and live happily ever after too?" He gazed innocently at her pale face, the guilt slowly encroaching into her eyes.

"No....sweetie, um..." She began fidgeting," It's slightly.... different for your father and I." Adil looked confusedly at her.

"Different....how?" He gazed upon her with his large, naive eyes. She looked away.

"Your father....um....has a wife." She muttered, "I simply...help him at times." She looked down  at her feet.

"So then...where's my mommy?"  Adil's eyes grew large and slightly fear full, for some where even in that child like nature, he understood the gravity of the question.

"I don't know, baby," She began stroking his hair, "I don't know." She held him tightly in her arms, and gently rocked him back and forth, "But..." She hesitated, "You could call me mama."Her voice was barely a whisper in the wind, but Adil's ears were sharp. Adil sat up straight in her lap, and clung onto her shirt.

"Really?!" He grinned, with wide eyed  fascinated "Can I? Will Aunty be my mama?!" He began to bounce in her lap. The woman look almost horrified, the guilt apparent on her face. She stiffened as she looked up to the wall ahead.

"...Yes." She finally answered. Her hold on Adil tightened. “Yes, you can.”

She knew at that time, that it was a lie, she knew that their blood was flowed in two different streams. He was never tied to her by that unbreakable bond forged by a mother and son when in his mother's womb. She knew he was too young to realize.  

It was out of innocence that he asked a remarkably complex question. But in those sweet child hood years, pain was a needle the pricked your skin and pleasure was the sensational taste of a sweet against your tongue. Love and lust were simply oblivion, and deceit was unaccounted for. To him, that question had a simple and clear answer, which he was deprived of. At that time, he could not understand, it is against the nature ot a child to understand such events.  

But now he was older, now he understood. 

The End

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