To my dear mother

Dear Mom,

It's been a long time since we last met, and receiving this message after all this time may seem strange to you. However, it was necessary for me to send it.

Do you remember, Mom, when I was a child? Do you recall the moments when we were a happy and loving family? The mornings in early spring when you would wake me up, wash my face, tidy my bed, and I would rush to the garden before breakfast to pick flowers, putting some in my room and others in yours and Dad's room. We lived on our own at that time, just the three of us, and we were incredibly happy.

We weren't a perfect family, but we were content. We didn't lack food or money, though we weren't wealthy. We were a typical family, yet those precious memories bring joy to my heart when I reminisce about them.

Do you remember the winters when Dad was busy with work? We used to go to the town and meet your sister, Veronica, at the city café. I don't recall what you both talked about, as my focus was solely on my hot chocolate and the delicious chocolate chip cookies. I remember you always ordering a cup of tea with cloves, which I didn't like at all, in addition to the carrot cake from which I would take several pieces, savoring the taste of the white cream on top. Those were warm days despite the cold.

One of the most beautiful memories that still lingers in my mind is my seventh birthday. You made me spend the entire day at Aunt Veronica's, and when you and Dad came to fetch me, you held my warm hands. Upon reaching home, you asked me to close my eyes. When I opened them in the house, I was surprised by a beautiful cake adorned with chocolate, and it read, "Happy Birthday, our princess," alongside several gifts wrapped in shiny ribbons. I hugged both of you, not knowing how to express my gratitude better than that.

However, these happy memories, despite their beauty, are almost fading in a sea of miserable recollections. Just as you both created my most beautiful memories, you are also the ones who destroyed them. Isn't that right, dear Mom?

It all began when one of Dad's friends asked to stay with us briefly due to losing his home in a big fire. Dad wasn't thrilled, but he couldn't turn away a friend, especially when he had nowhere else to go. Dad was generous and kind, yet he was betrayed by someone close to him, under his own roof. How did you feel hurting the person who trusted you with his life and dedicated himself to us?

Yes, I blame Dad for what happened afterward, but I understand fully that he was a victim, just as I was. I wished you had realized your mistake early on, dear Mom.

I wonder about your feelings when you sent Edward and me to Mr. Robinson's house, leaving you and Edward's father alone in the house. I also wonder how you felt when Dad discovered the truth, what he didn't know until much later. You betrayed Dad for half a year. Instead of apologizing, Mom, what did you do? You ran away with Edward and his father, leaving Dad and me behind. You left your daughter who loved you, trying to overlook your actions. Was your life happy afterward?

I'm not sending this letter to reprimand you, Mom, but to ease my own conscience. I'm trying to change myself and become a better person while being trapped within these four walls, unable to escape for a long time.

Be happy, dear Mom, for it is inconceivable that you destroy me, Dad, and then live in misery.

From Charlotte

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