Missy
If I had a daughter, this it how it would be. It would be all, Stand up straight, missy, shoulders back, no slouching, and she'd be sulky, sullen, pouting, wilful, and I'd see in her eyes, which would be my eyes, that she was starting to hate me, and I'd pour it on thicker. Smile for the camera, you stupid girl, I'd be, and, the lens won't crack, it's seen faces like yours before. And she'd harbour murderous thoughts inside her little head, shaped like my head, and she'd let her hair, my hair, grow long and unbrushed, and I'd take her and shake her and tell her she'd never amount to anything and she'd hold back from crying, I'd see it in her eyes, my eyes, and I'd see the hate and I'd keep on and on until she left me. On the day she left, I'd be Fine, then, go out into the world, let's see what you make of yourself, missy, let's see how well you do, and she'd be sulky, sullen, pouting, wilful, but taller, taller than me, with my eyes, and my hair, and my head-shape, and she'd go, she'd take her things, stuffed into my old suitcase, and I'd watch her back as she walked away without turning round. Then I'd be, That's right, missy, you go off and you don't think of me, only I'd whisper this to myself, and You live your life the way you want to, not the way I want you to. You be free, and I'd go back into the house, sit on my sofa, sit quietly, and know I'd done what I needed to do.
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Author's Note
This flash, published in PANK magazine, was inspired by the prompt "Missy" in one of my online groups. Mother-daughter interactions are something that always fascinate me!
Other stories by Tania Hershman
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Biting. I'd say I enjoyed reading it, but I think that would make me a masochist. What an idea: that someone would think ahead and imagine being that way, when usually people just end up that way without thinking about it. Harsh and thrilling at the same time.
Thanks, Katrina, I don't think many people would say they "enjoyed" most of what I write! I love "harsh and thrilling," that's wonderful.
Katrina says it so well. This story is so harsh and thrilling. I'm not sure what else to say, other than I loved reading it, and I do know how THAT sounds. You're my kind of writer, Tania. This is right up there with your Vestal piece.
Oh, God, this is heartbreaking and so well done. The walls we can build to "protect" ourselves, all that we can lose and destroy by pushing, pushing away.
This gave me chills. Brava, Tania.
Thanks so much, Ethel. It scared me, writing it.
This is wonderful! I love "And she'd harbour murderous thoughts inside her little head, shaped like my head, and she'd let her hair, my hair, grow long and unbrushed, and I'd take her and shake her and tell her she'd never amount to anything and she'd hold back from crying, I'd see it in her eyes, my eyes, and I'd see the hate and I'd keep on and on until she left me."
Such a frightening look at mother-daughter relationships, felt so real to me.
A lifetime of real hanging on 'if'. Incredible.
Thanks so much, Teresa and Martha, glad it spoke to you.
I'm late to the party. This is gutting, Tania. I love it.
Claire, thank you so much! Always happy to be gutting :)
This is powerful, especially the way you tie the mother and daughter together at every turn: my eyes, my hair, my head-shape, my old suitcase. Very strong! Good title too.
Glad I found this one. A little jewel. Powerful, expertly written.
A+ & *.
wow--wonderful--i relate so well--without a daughter -- excellent --beautiful -- so much love !! (the real kind) ***