The Anti-social woman was a young, smart, and beautiful woman who lived only until she was 42. Consumed by rage and jealousy, her demise was playing a game of poker with the devil himself. She was a middle child and the only girl. She was a straight-A student, top of her class with a bright future ahead of her. She studied to be a Psych-tech nurse just like her single mother.
She was only 22 when she had her first child, a girl. Nevertheless, she had no clue who the father was to her estranged daughter. The antisocial woman wasn’t ready to be a mother as she continuously abandoned her child with her own mother and brothers. She’ll vanish for days, weeks, or even months, only to come back to play the role as the mother for the court but things in her background began to brew. It didn’t fester over until many years later when her firstborn child was older.
As years went by, the Anti-Social woman got married for the first and only time. She soon after gave birth to another daughter, the sacred daughter. Things on the surface seemed so normal in this family of four but things from the past began to spill over. A life without plots, boundaries, & remorse is an anti-social heaven. Society is pointless— stealing, killing, & selling without a care is paradise. Family, love, & trust is grisly in the eyes of the anti-social woman. The satisfying taste of freedom and self-control was quite nourishing on her tongue. The idea of playing by the rules and customs wasn’t appealing in her brown eyes. The idea of chaos and torment was uplifting but with the aid of toxic chemicals, she was soaring. Day by day, she pondered daily, wondering what she could do; to make things more appealingly raw.
Any surrounding individuals who beamed with joy and cheer was quickly shut down in a blink of an eye. No joy or liveliness is permitted in the presences of the anti-social woman. A family has no place in her heart or mind, nothing is charitable or satisfying. They were nothing but dead weight in her eyes. The ramification she created, blaming others, threatening others, and stealing from others was justice for her. She wore jealousy and rage like a badge of identity and pride. Through her eyes, she saw that she was doing nothing wrong. However, she was pushing and hurting so many people who loved and cared for her.
The pain and torment she inflicted on those who wanted the best for her, was agonizing. Day by day was unpredictable when she was around. There was no way of truly knowing if she was going to be civil or brutal. The look in her eye would change in a heartbeat, changing any positive vibe into a negative. No matter what her family and friends did for her, she would push them further away. Happiness wasn’t an emotional imprint in her personality trait, it was almost erased from existence. Just spending time with the anti-social woman was like a 9 to 5 job—it was agonizing and difficult. Everything wasn’t all right.
Though, the only person who stood by her side was her daughter; a child who the woman abandoned and yet still yearned for her attention. In the beginning, they were strangers; blood strangers. The estranged daughter spent most of her childhood afar, watching with her eyes wide shut. Lies protected her from the truth about the anti-social woman, not wanting the daughter knowing the harsh reality of it all. Catered to and shielded from the bitterness of the tormented soul, the delusional daughter still longed for her mother. Sent away at her youth, she pondered about the truth as she grew older, not wanting to believe the turn of events that were unfolding for her mother over the years.
When her daughter got older, the blindfold was lifted; reality became clearer the moment she came home. In the beginning, both mother and daughter began to mend the broken links in their life, but it just faded away as time went on. They argued nonstop and disagreements was becoming the norm for them. However, the anti-social woman and the estranged daughter still found time to talk about the past; to answer old questions and tell forgotten stories. Though the truth hurts, the estranged daughter became stronger; setting goals and dreams for herself—making the anti-social woman someone she didn’t want to end up like.
The holiday’s rolled by like every year but on a gloomy February day, a call that no one should get; destroyed the daughter completely—to find out the anti-social woman was no more. The night before, she lost a game of poker; losing her life in the process. The toxic chemicals she called family was the true key to her demise, the end of her chapter. Her family was torn by the news, it wasn’t easy for the daughter to move on with her own life. The estranged daughter found herself wishing she had more time to continue trying to help her mother. Bargaining and pleading with the universe, the daughter wished this was a new lie created by the anti-social woman but sadly it wasn’t. It was the harsh reality of life, something the daughter wasn’t quite prepared for.
Years have passed since the anti-social woman departed as her eldest daughter stared blankly at her computer screen, trying to figure out what to write. She cupped her pale face and groaned in frustration. How or what she could write about her mother without it sounding so fictitious? Slowing lowering her head at the edge of the black writers’ desk, she closed her green eyes and began to fantasize a life with her mother. A life with her mother would be normal and healthy. A life so balanced and harmonized, their life will be so carefree and…
“Lies. All lies,” the estranged daughter muttered under her breath.
That was the fictional world she used to live-in when she was a little girl, growing up like a gypsy with her little sister, the sacred daughter. Moving from apartment to apartment, running away from a man who the antisocial mother feared but always found herself going back to. It wasn’t long before both sisters were separated. One stayed behind while the other was given a chance to live a “normal” life in paradise.
If things were normal, who knows where or who the estranged daughter will be. Telling the truth, showing the readers what it was like for someone who was so against life and rules goes through daily. The task to find clarity and happiness in the presences of the Anti-social woman was indeed its own journey. The daughter lifted her head, a smile came across her lips as she turned her gaze over to a single photo she found of her mother smiling that sat on the top shelf of her bookcase, to the right of her.
“Tell the truth,” she muttered once more.
Telling the readers where you came from so they can understand why you wear your heart on your sleeve as a badge of courage and why you smile so brightly, that the darkest cloud seems to vanish when you walk into a room.
And like that, the estranged daughter began to write.