The CBB :: View topic - A mother's story

#1: A mother's story Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 1:49 pm

I got woken up by this bunny this morning... Thanks Nell for beta-ing.

I look at my babies and my heart is filled with pride. They are still so tiny, so young, but even only a few days old I can tell them apart, can see their characters developing – the strong, loyal one, the tiny, weak one who will always be dependent on others, the boisterous fun-loving one, they are all so precious. I wonder how they will fare when they go out into the big wide world, as their older brothers and sisters have. I know that, all too soon, the day will come when they will leave me. But for now I am content to have them cuddled up to me.

Except – something is different this time. There is talking in hushed voices, furtive glances cast in my direction that tell me they are talking about me, about my little ones. Something feels different. Something is wrong. My joy at my babies becomes edged with fear. I become more watchful, and encourage them to wriggle closer to my warmth.

A shadow falls over me. Someone holds me still, while my babies are taken away. You can’t take them yet – they are too small, too young. But one by one they are pulled from me, I am not even left with one. I don’t understand. Have I done something wrong? My beautiful babies. I can hardly bear to watch as they are thrust roughly into a sack. Be careful with them. You will hurt them. They are only tiny.

I strain at the rope holding me as they leave. Don’t take my babies from me. Let me come too. But they are gone. The door swings behind them. Where are you taking them? I try to follow but a rope holds me. I pull again, and feel a slight give in the rope. My mother-love gives me strength and I pull again and am free. With a bound I am out of the door. It is clear to me which way they have gone and I follow.

Soon I catch up with them, but not soon enough. The sack lies empty on the ground. Where have my babies gone. I hear voices I know. The voice of the one who took my babies away. And a young voice, a voice I have heard speak friendly words, but now raised in anger, in words I do not understand. I do not listen to the voices – I’m looking for my babies but I cannot find them. I look at the cold cruel water and suddenly I know. I understand now what the hushed voices were saying. I lift up my voice and I cry for my lost babies.

A cry of triumph cuts through my misery and I turn my head to look. Now I can see the owner of the young voice. She is holding something. I hardly dare to hope, but it is, she has one of my babies. She cuddles it to her, then bursts into tears as she sees me watching. I feel a tugging at the collar round my neck and reluctantly I allow myself to be pulled away. I want to follow the young voice, to see if my baby is dead or alive, but she is running now and I am firmly held.

Once more, I watch, helpless, as my baby is taken away, then sadly I allow myself to be taken home.

I am not interested in the food they give me. I do not want to be petted and comforted by them. How can they break my heart and think I will not notice. I turn my head to the wall and grieve for my babies. I barely notice the sound of footsteps, another low, kind voice, the clink of coins as they are laid on the table. Once more somebody is trying to lead me away, and I may as well go. I do not care what happens, so I get to my feet and follow. Maybe they will let me die too. Without my babies I do not care about life. So I follow. I am led to a place I have not been before. It does not matter where I am. I am spoken to with gentle kindness but I do not care. Someone else comes and kneels next to me. I hear that young voice again, and it reaches through my grief. She has something in her arms. My heart is suddenly so full of hope I think it might burst. She gently puts my baby down next to me. He is alive!

My heart overflows with joy and gratitude. I will not forget his brothers and sisters, but as he wriggles hungrily against me I rejoice in the miracle of his return.

Last edited by LizB on Mon Jun 06, 2005 2:03 pm; edited 1 time in total

#2: Author: Eilidh, Location: Bathgate, Scotland

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 1:52 pm

Liz that was lovely.

Thankyou

#3: Author: Mia, Location: London

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 1:52 pm

Oh how terribly sad! Crying or Very sad

I can't cope with reading that scene in the book - always have to skip quickly through it!

Thanks Liz

#4: Author: Nell, Location: London, England

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 2:00 pm

I still think this is great! Wink

But very sad... Crying or Very sad

Thank you Liz!

#5: Author: Josie, Location: London

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 2:11 pm

So sad. Poor Zita (sp?)

Thanks Liz. Glad this bunny bit.

#6: Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!!

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 2:26 pm

thank you Liz!

I read that with tears streaming down my cheeks.

#7: Author: Alice, Location: London, England

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 2:53 pm

That's so sad, poor Zeta.

#8: Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!!

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 3:44 pm

*gives Zita a big hug*

That was so sad Liz, thank you.

#9: Author: Amanda M, Location: Wakefield

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 4:57 pm

Poor Zita

That was so moving - thanks Liz.

Star Wars

#10: Author: Caeli, Location: West Midlands

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 5:04 pm

Thanks Liz. Poor Zita...

#11: Author: Donna, Location: Liverpool

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 5:50 pm

Oh poor Zita. Thank you Liz - that was so sad.

#12: Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 8:03 pm

Oh how beautifully sad! Poor Zita!

#13: Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 9:41 pm

That was very nicely done. Thanks.

#14: Author: JackieJ, Location: Kingston upon Hull

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 9:52 pm

Thanks for that Liz - I didn't figure it out though (silly me Embarassed

), but it was lovely.

JackieJ

#15: Author: BethC, Location: Worcester, UK

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 9:57 pm

Thank you, Liz!

#16: Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks

Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2005 10:05 pm

Hands round the tissues

thankyou for a beutiful piece of writing Liz

#17: Author: pygmy, Location: glasgow

Posted: Tue Jun 07, 2005 12:09 pm

Poor Zita

Thanks, Liz.

#18: Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent

Posted: Tue Jun 07, 2005 9:04 pm

Oh Liz, that was lovely.

Thank you.

#19: Author: JustJen, Location: waiting for a bus

Posted: Wed Jun 08, 2005 3:45 am

sniff, that was lovely

#20: Author: Sophoife, Location: down under Down Under

Posted: Thu Jun 09, 2005 7:24 am

Poor Zita!

Sniffle.

Thanks Liz

#21: Author: Chair, Location: Kent, England

Posted: Fri Jul 01, 2005 11:20 pm

Poor Zita. It must have been terrible for her having her babies taken away like that.

#22: Author: RuthY, Location: Anyone's guess

Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2005 8:51 pm

Thanks for that Liz - I'm so glad the bunny bit!

Although I must admit I hadn't really worked out that it was Zita until I read others comments Exclamation

Ruth

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