Childhood.It feels like an eternity ago, doesn’t it?
What comes to your mind when you think of childhood?
Does it remind you of the days when your mother sang lullabies to you and rocked you back and forth so that you would stop crying,when you went running into your dad’s arms and he threw you in the air and you cackled with delight,when the soft hands of your mother caressed your cheeks,when she would touch your forehead with her warm lips?Or when your grandpa would take you for steaming hot tea during winters in his little blue car,when your teacher drew a star on your hand everytime you completed your classwork on time,when your grandma baked spongy little brownies for you covered with think marzipan,when your dad would howl with laughter at your little acts of stupidity and mischief.Does it take you back to those days when the word pain was not in your dictionary?Well, let me tell you something.Childhood is not how you think it is for everyone. Repeating the word “childhood” only floods me with painful memories; memories I can’t cherish; memories which gnaw at my soul,memories that have scarred me,memories that remind me of who I am,where I stand.
I’ll tell you something,a little secret.Life wasn’t as kind to me as it was to you.
I didn’t have a house to live in,my childhood was spent in a place that was more like prison.They called it an orphanage.While you enjoyed treats of chocolates and thick golden honey,I was given cold crisp bread.While you splashed in water and laughed with your friends,I was made to scrub the walls.While you played hide and seek with your dad I whimpered in the dark,all alone, holding onto my plastic necklace that was the last gift given to me by my mother.While you snuggled in your warm woollen cardigan I was lying on the cold hard ground,dying of fever with no one to look after me.You were blessed.You were loved.You were protected.I was not.
Life is unfair.It always has been.
Ps-this is entirely fictious.