Just posting this because wanted to. And because I don't know what to do for Warmth. No one told me what they wanted so I don't know what to do. How to continue. Write in Devon's or Shannie's POV? If anyone finds this, message me? Give a review on Warmth? Idk? Guess I couldn't convey my thoughts properly. Ah, never been good at expressing myself...
I know you're completely depleted of energy. I fully comprehend that you're dead exhausted.
Your bones aches from years of work, old age, and taking such loving care of my brothers.
Your back still pangs from those uninterrupted hours of endlessly sitting and sewing furiously, trying to support us, so that we can live comfortably while you were in terrible, terrible agony. I'm so, so sorry, Mommy. I can never apologize enough for my utter uselessness, my blatant dearth of skills and money to aid you. Thank goodness that you don't have to force yourself to slave away like that anymore, that now the money I earn can help ease your numerous, heavy burdens.
Your fingers, arms are scarred and ingrained with pain from all those decades of devotedly cooking for us everyday, always making sure we have homemade meals, are completely well-fed and healthy. At least, for the past few years, you've deemed me worthy of handling a wok and knife.
Your voice is nearly nonexistent from the times you've thunderously scolded us when we misbehaved.
Your hands hurt from smacking, trying desperately to direct me toward the right path when I strayed. You wouldn't have done it if you didn't care. Even though I'm an adult now and sometimes wish to voice my opinions, you're probably just trying to mold me into a proper daughter, one who is not impeccably lazy, one who should effortlessly know what to say at the right times, who can naturally and beautifully smile when needed, who can glide with perfect grace and unmatched elegance wherever she strides, who can impress the relatives with her ineffably impressive accomplishments and sharp wits. However, I can't do any of that. I'm a failure as a daughter. Therefore, I deserve to be ridiculed, smacked, to be told the truth that I'm a lumbering, pathetic excuse of human garbage. I deserve the scars.
I'm just incredibly thankful that you haven't murdered me yet, even though I'm so impossibly inane, undoubtedly annoying, and downright selfish... Not that I want that to happen. But, since you brought me into this world, you have every right to take me out of it.
I feel so self-centered, greedy, and bratty whenever I want something, especially when there's so many in the world who are struggling so hard just to be fed, to survive, who have nothing, not even a place to stay. That's why I'm so extremely grateful that you haven't thrown me out yet, that you have taught me how to cook, even though I still suck at it, despite many, many years of practice, that you care enough to correct me, discipline me.
Tough love is better than cruel indifference. Sometimes, circumstance decides all. Fate made me female and sometimes I loathe that. I'll never be able to muster up the needed courage to utter that out loud. Just because I don't have a penis means I don't deserve the same attention, the tenderness, the same praise, the approval, the same acknowledgement, as my brothers. Or it's just that I'm not good enough. But I have to make do with what I have. That's what I learned. That's what I believe.
So... I'll like to take this moment to thank you, Mommy, from the bottom of my heart. For everything you have done for my brothers and me. I know I don't really talk much. I'm fully aware that I can never ever repay you, but the universe knows I'm trying so hard. All the money that I don't save for that dream house you want, for that dream kitchen you fantasize about every night, for that fruit-filled and flower-infested garden you covet, for the things you never had, for the security and sense and reality of home you desire, I give to you. You already know that. I will work hard, make lots and lots of money for you to finally be truly comfortable, eternally happy, and have a sweet haven to call home. I completely understand that it'll never be enough, that I can't do anything right, but, dang it, I will die trying. I swear to you.
Thank you for reading!
A lovely present and future to you.
I doubt anyone would read this...