There once was a day, I have written my first story ever, a completed story. It was a short one, named, The Reminder (which can be read in Wattpad). People who have read it must have known that.

I was excited to show it to my parents. And my father and mother read the draft to beam in bliss. 

Because I written that with new vocabularies which they doesn't know till now. They appreciated me and encouraged to write more.

Everything was alright until one day, I haven't clean my room!

I was studying when all of a sudden my mom barged into my room and began yelling at me. 

At first the scoldings were bearable and acceptable because my clothes were scattered, I haven't swept the floor, neither did I keep my books in an organised way.

Later, I lost the mood about studying when she accused me about my marks. She drew the broom from a corner and began sweeping the floor as of the dust will not go away if I clean the floor. 

"There's nothing you could do, if you score like this..." She bagan.

"I am not asking you to do any house chores, I do it all by myself and the only job you are doing is study. Then why can't you earn good marks?"

I stared at the wall in front of me, silently. 

I deserve it!

"Answer me!!" My mom creeped out my soul.

But I could say nothing, because whatever I say will stimulate her nerve futher. 

"Among these messes you are showing me what you have written like a shit. How do you deserve saying that?"

My blood froze on what I heard. The same mouth which said 'I love your writing' told me 'I write like shit'.

Who is telling that? My mom!

I bit my inner cheek and hold back my tears as I felt myself worthless when she said that.

I know my mom will get mad when I keep my place untidy but what is the need to drag my passion into the conversation?

Does she pretend to like what I write on the day when I showed her the short story?

My teeth shivered to think about it.

The things she told next was not audible to me as the only thing which ligered in my mind was, 

I write like shit.