Marilyn's story began on this muddy land where twenty three years earlier, her single mother- Emilia gave birth to her in presence of a midwife and no family. Emilia's partner had disappeared as soon as he learned she was pregnant. But Emilia's spirit never broke, she raised her baby with all the love she had never got.

Marilyn remembered her childhood days as fun and carefree where she got everything she desired with either tantrums or buttering her hardworking mother. She wasn't allowed to do any chores so she could play and study with her friends. Not a day went by without her belly filled with food and her body in the most comfortable, warm clothes.

Emilia with her meagre salary as a waitress could afford only sufficient food, but still she bought her daughter all the toys and pretty dresses she had never got as a child. She only wanted her daughter to grow like all the other kids. Her life's purpose was to keep her daughter happy, to keep the only person who loved her close to her.

What Emilia didn't know that her daughter truly didn't love her for approximately seventeen years later, Marilyn would choose a boy she barely knew over her.

The neighbours said that Marilyn's running away was expected because she was a spoiled, senseless brat who didn't appreciate her mother enough. Emilia never envisioned her precious daughter to abandon her, for months she went knocking to each door, begging each person to report to her if they find Marilyn. All Emilia could think of was how she failed as a mother and that Marilyn was out there, cold, alone and afraid.

For Marilyn, this wasn't her first mistake. It was however, her biggest mistake. Her first mistake was when she was nine years old and had cried for an expensive barbie set that only few kids owned. Marilyn knew her mother couldn't bear the expense of that useless toy, but she continued to demand incessantly until she got it. Her mother borrowed money from some men and when she couldn't repay it, they beat her up. Emilia only smiled weakly when Marilyn asked how she got the bruises because as long as Marilyn was happy, she was also happy.

Karma bit Marilyn in the behind after she left her mum for her boyfriend who used her for roughly fourteen days, then tossed her away like she was garbage. Marilyn was ashamed to go back home, so she stayed. Another mistake.

She spent the next three days weeping in the public washroom until hunger overpowered her senses. The growling of her stomach was stronger than the stench of urine surrounding her. She stumbled into this unknown town where her ex boyfriend had brought her and was thirsty for food- money. She watched the day transition into night- the mighty sun crawl down the horizon, leaving a dark, velvety sky with no stars. Marilyn fixed herself the best she could and then stood by the highway. A truck halted before her and a strange face was smirking at her.

Marilyn spent that night on a stony bed of a brute truck driver.

A series of mistakes followed after that night as she slept in different beds each day- giving away a piece of her to men she never loved. Her life was miserably frosty like she was getting crushed under a large iceberg. Her suffocation only grew as days passed into months- months into years until she was freezed inside the solid iceberg itself.

There was a ray of hope though which barged into her life in the form of a boy her age with sandy blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Shaun. He started to crack open her frigid walls and the ice started to melt away. She could breathe again- she felt warm again.

Marilyn didn't know what part of her captivated him for he met her nearly everyday at the pub. She half-expected for him to leave her, however, he never did. And she knew that he was aware of her services, but he never brought it up. He loved her- all of her, her beauty and her flaws. He was kind, too kind, Marilyn concluded.

Shaun didn't deserve a selfish, crude girl like her so she left him.

It hurt her to let go of him- the first man she ever loved. But it was for the best because she could never enjoy his company without feeling guilty- not worthy enough. Being with him had given her a confidence to end all her wrong ways which had only caused her pain. To walk steadily on the slippery, thin ice and dodge the pointed shards.

With difficulty, she found a job as a waitress at a local restaurant and started to save money to travel back home. Even after a terrible heartbreak, she was hopeful. Hopeful of mending her past, getting loved and giving more love in return. Marilyn was ready for redemption- to seek forgiveness for the outrageous things she had done in her short life.

So here she was- at twenty three and broken beyond her years, standing nervously on the land which once used to be her home.

*

Marilyn strode briskly on the concrete pavement, the limitless meadows on either side of her. The crispy grass blades were tall and they were green and tawny in colour. A cool breeze ran through the meadows and through her dark hair, tickling her bare neck as she shivered with the trees. She imagined herself as a six year old girl, sprinting with the wind on a lovely afternoon. Her body getting caressed by the high grass and her tiny feet sinking in the damp earth, her toes squishing the rich soil.

A wave of nostalgia nearly brought tears in her eyes- reminding her of all that she had lost and mainly her foolishness. Here she was, balancing her weight on delicate ice, devoid of any warmth. But it was okay, she was going to meet her mum soon. It would all be okay.

Her heart became heavy as she tried to picture her mum in her mind. It wasn't quite difficult because Marilyn was a splitting image of her. Still she couldn't get certain parts right like was there a wrinkle on the left corner of her mouth or was it just her assumption because her mother would be old and frail by now?

It didn't really matter to Marilyn because she was finally going home and would look at her mum all day, paying heed to every word she spoke, listen to stories behind her each wrinkle. She would ask for her mum's forgiveness exactly the way she had memorized and practised over a hundred times. She would spend the next ten years or more dedicating her life to her dear mother. She would take her to Mc Donalds on fridays just like she used to take Marilyn when she was little. They would make impressive houses with playing cards, let a blow of wind knock it down and build it all over again with few curse words, tolerance and hope.

Marilyn took a deep breath, dragging her wobbling legs to the door of her humble house. It had changed, there was an additional storey and the painting was no longer chipped. It appeared much vibrant to her than when she had left.

She let out a shaky breath as she rung the bell. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest, the knots in her stomach squeezed in trepidation and her hands were clammy with cold sweat. The door flew open and her eyes locked into the hazel ones of a small boy.

"Daddy, daddy, there's a pretty lady at the door!" he shouted while continuing to peer at her curiously. "Who are you?"

"I-I . . ." Marilyn wasn't the kind of girl who stuttered, she was the one who made others cower in fear. But now, she was baffled. Incoherent words were stuck in her throat.

The small boy frowned and suddenly, a hoarse voice was heard, "Who is it?"

A man's face in his early fifties appeared in the hallway, his hair as white as the snow.

"T-This must be a mistake---"

"Marilyn?" The man's voice was low, but his eyes were wide in recognition. "You're Emilia's daughter, aren't you?"

"I uh . . . Yes," Marilyn confirmed, holding her breath. "And you are?"

The man looked angry now like he had witnessed some injustice happening. "I'm Emilia's husband."

"Mummy has a daughter? Is this lady my sister?" the small boy asked, his inquisitive eyes regarding her distastefully. He surely was possessive of her mother, the kind of boy who wouldn't welcome a sibling into the family. Marilyn liked the fact that he loved her mum deeply, something that she wasn't successful at.

"Christopher go to your room," the man commanded in a confident tone and under his scrutiny, the small boy scurried inside. Then he turned his attention to her. "Emilia has gone out, you can come in and wait."

"Okay, thanks," she mumbled, but the man was already moving in impatiently.

Marilyn stepped in dubiously and shut the door behind her.

She didn't linger around even though she wanted to- she wanted to find out about her mum's new family. Did Emilia replace her quickly like she was waiting to get rid of her to start fresh? But she could hardly blame her for she wasn't the ideal daughter a mother would be proud of.

Marilyn was lost in a hazy daze as she passed the hallway with photo frames of her mother's new family. She sat quietly on the corner of the plush couch, her leg bouncing anxiously. The small boy- Christopher gave her a glass of water which she gulped gratefully, but her throat still remained scratchy and raw. Like she was screaming in fury at herself and maybe she was, but she couldn't hear. How imprudent of her to leave everything behind, especially the mother who had given everything to her!

Christopher plopped down beside her comfortably and shifted towards her.

"Hi kid," Marilyn said lamely, not knowing how to avoid his enquiring gaze.

He asked innocently, "Are you a whore?"

"A what?" Marilyn snapped, chills prickling her skin. She sensed the presence of someone else in the room and her head whipped towards the entrance. The man calmly stood there, assessing her with animosity. "Seriously?"

The man simply shrugged.

Marilyn flared up indignantly, "You told your child that?"

"Don't pretend that it's not the truth," he said nonchalantly and crossed his arms against his chest.

"What I do with my life is my business."

"Then why come here?" he questioned and Marilyn shot him an incredulous look. "No seriously, why are you here? After all these years . . . Is it for the money?"

"W-What?" Marilyn rose from the couch, she was offended. "I have come here to meet my mother. That's my only reason so don't you fucking dare---"

"That's hard to believe, but alright," he continued coolly, his face stoic. "You're not welcomed here though, I think you should know that. Your mother Emilia is a kind woman, she doesn't deserve the likes of you. You threw her away and when she finally gathered pieces of her and fixed herself, voila, you're here!"

"She would want to see me," Marilyn said bravely, but her voice faltered. "She would want to be with me."

"Oh sure, sure." He waved his hand dismissively. "But you know our Emilia, she would do things that she wants to, but that doesn't mean those things are good for her."

The ice beneath Marilyn's feet ruptured and she was hurled into the freezing water.

The man sighed, shuffling towards her. "If you want some money related help, ask me. I'll be happy to help."

"No thank you." She clenched her jaw and collecting her leftover dignity, she marched out.

How could she be so stupid to think that everyone would extend their arms and accept her just like that? That she would force herself into her mum's life, wrecking her meticulously built home. If she did love her mother even a bit, it was best to let go of her- to let her breathe and live happily.

Marilyn was going to leave this goddamn town, leave behind her childhood and hopes that instant if only she hadn't bumped into her mother.

At forty eight years old and broken beyond her years, Emilia stared shell-shocked at what once used to be her daughter.

Deciding to go back home was obviously a naive mistake. Thinking that she would be loved by everyone was a delusional mistake. Actually executing the plan was a senseless mistake. Mistake, mistake, mistake, she herself had been a mistake.

"Marilyn?" Emilia's voice was a weak tremor that escalated to a high-pitched shriek.

Tears welled up in Marilyn's eyes as she gawked at her mother who's hand flew against her mouth.

"Marilyn, oh, Marilyn!" she exclaimed, her voice muffled in her hand. Tears rolled down her hollow cheeks and her lips were quivering like crazy. "You're back . . ."

Emilia's bony fingers touched Marilyn's chin and Marilyn squeezed her eyes shut in agony. She could no longer look at her dear mother who had aged so much. Her skin was sagging, her grey eyes were sunken and lifeless and her entire frame was hunched. She resembled a little twig that would snap in half with the lightest step of a small bird. Marilyn had done this to Emilia- she was the one responsible for her frail body and mind.

"Marilyn . . . Look at me, I'm your mother," Emilia pleaded in a broken voice and Marilyn swallowed hard, her eyes still closed. "Marilyn, my baby girl, I'm your mommy. You remember me, don't you?" Emilia grasped her hands and began desperately, "W-We shared t-those meals with plastic toys at Mc Donalds on fridays and sometimes watched movies about princesses w-with the longest hair all night without sleeping a minute- what was her name again?"

Rapunzel. As a kid, she had fantasized of being her and that her actual parents were the king and the queen who would take her away from the wretched poverty. But then again, her mother was no witch, quite opposite in fact who had given her all the freedom in the world and that had upset Marilyn. She didn't like the feeling of guilt.

"No!" Marilyn shouted suddenly, her eyes fluttering open. She couldn't take it anymore- she couldn't hurt her mum more. She had to leave as soon as possible, she had to let go of her. "I'm not your daughter."

"W-What?" Panic rose in Emilia, she couldn't go through this again- she couldn't lose her daughter for the second time. Emilia became hysterical. "No Marilyn, you're my daughter. Look at me carefully, see, I'm your mother. Look here baby girl, don't say I'm not your mother. I'm the one who---"

"Shut the fuck up!" Marilyn barked in frustration and the old woman flinched. She was doing a favour for Emilia, but Emilia was making it difficult. It wounded Marilyn to slice Emila's heart in bits after she had generously offered her love for the second time. Why couldn't Emilia be angry for abandoning her and yell at her to go to hell? But she had always been kind, too kind, Marilyn concluded. Marilyn didn't deserve her. She didn't deserve anybody's love let alone her beautiful mother's.

Emilia didn't stagger back, although she was scared, she stood rooted in determination. "I'm not letting you leave this time Marilyn, I promise I'll take good care of you."

"Oh so now is the time you decide to be my mother?" Marilyn snarled, but inside, the pain grew. "Too late. You were never my mother. If you had raised me properly and taken care of me then, I would have never ran away. It's because of you that I'm in such a terrible situation! You ruined my fucking life! I never want to see you again!"

Emilia was taken aback, Marilyn hated seeing her mum crumble like soft cookies.

Still, she slowly persisted in a wavering, tear-filled voice, "I'm sorry baby girl, I know it's all my fault. I-I promise I'll take care of you every day, please come back home. I'll---"

Marilyn laughed dryly. "Come back home now? Are you kidding? Besides, I came here only for the money. I don't need to be taken care of- especially by you."

She wanted to take back her lies- her past, hug Emilia, beg for her forgiveness and build a new home with her. But she knew she couldn't do that. She couldn't destroy her mum's new life- her happiness.

Emilia was speechless, she only clinged to Marilyn. Warmth spreaded at her touch and it surprised Marilyn who was accustomed to feeling cold and dead from the past six years. Had it been so long?

"Don't touch me you bitch." Marilyn wrenched free from her hold and started to stalk ahead.

Emilia scampered after her like a lost puppy. "No, no, no dear, c-come back. Don't leave me please . . . " She reached for her arm again, but Marilyn swatted her hands away.

"Leave me the fuck alone." And Marilyn started to run, she ran with the wind, her tears mingling in the clean air.

A heart-breaking wail tore through the quiet afternoon.

Emilia wasn't strong enough to chase her daughter as she helplessly called after the disappearing figure.

Marilyn arrived at the meadows and she kicked away her sandals, ripped open her dress, clawed at her undergarments and bolted through the tall grass as they pricked her bare flesh. She only ran and ran until her feet grew tired and she dropped on the ground in exhaustion. Naked and vulnerable. Tears streamed down her face and the strong rays of the sun blinded her vision.

She was drowning in the freezing water, her lungs were gasping for relief and her flailing hands were reaching for something to hold onto- ice.

Why were mothers so selfless? Why did they give everything they had which left them with nothing? Why did they love so much?

Marilyn could never be a good mother, she knew that, as her fingers searched for a piercing stone on the grimy ground.

She gripped the stone and raised it over the small bump of her stomach.

Marilyn cried again because she couldn't do it- she couldn't kill it.

Months later, a baby girl with blonde hair and blue eyes was born. Marilyn was floating in the freezing water, she was no longer at the dark bottom. Her baby girl was a tender reminder of the man she had once loved and had to let go. Marilyn didn't know if her baby girl was a mistake or not- but she gave her all the love that she had always got from Emilia.

* * *

A/N :

Yes, that's Shaun's baby haha. Hope you guys enjoyed it, to the people who already read this in 'A Slice Of Reality' thanks for bearing with me <3