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CHAPTER 2: THE HATE THEY GIVE

Author: hannahdulse
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

CHAPTER 2: THE HATE THEY GIVE

Five years later... 

Amelia Solace Bernard, the point of view.

"Amelia! I'm leaving! Your son is at the baby crib back in the staff room and he's crying out loud for fuck's sake, give him a milk already!" Angie, my co-worker, shouted as I try to rub the toilet with a brush. 

I pushed the door to swing it open and there I see Angie holding out her pouch and waving it at me.

"Thank you, Anj! Take care!" I waved back with my cleaning gloves. Well, I call her Anj as Angie sounds more like Anji. 

When I get back to facing the toilet, I let out a scoff and continue rubbing it one more time before finally washing the foam off with the water.

For fuck's sake, how do people can't flush their toilet every after use? They only pay for their pizza orders and not cleaning materials, sheez, what an untidy set of people. I'm getting tired every day for scrubbing the toilets, and the floor, and the tables they use and never thought of at least keeping their food or drinks not spilled.

After I'm done cleaning -- finally! -- the toilet, I remove the cleaning gloves I used and dumped it into the trash bin. I glance one more time at the shining and shimmering look of our bathroom before I turned off its light and closed the door.

"Oh, God, I'm starving." And so is Hugo. 

I immediately went into the sink to clean my hands with a soap and while wiping off the water, I go into the kitchen and open the refrigerator to get my frozen burger in which I bought it for my evening snack on my way to work this morning.

I tossed it into the microwave to heat it up. 

I also grabbed one sachet of milk powder and boiled a water into the pan with our stove. I readied the baby bottle to the side and put the powdered milk in there.

I went straight to the staff room and found my five-year old baby sleeping in the baby crib which Angie bought it for me five years ago. It's already small enough for my big baby to sleep in to.  

I gently tapped on his arms, trying to get him to wake up. When he opened his eyes, the first words that came out from his mouth melts my heart.

"Mommy..." 

I crinkle my nose and tapped his small yet pointy nose. "Aww... my baby Hugo is sleeping even though he's hungry. I'm sorry, dear..."

I lift him up and rub his head down to his back. I gave him kisses on his cheek which I finally hear him chuckle that removes all my weary.

"I love you, mommy," Hugo says in his cute little voice that makes me feel in elation. 

"I love you too, Hugo."

Being a mother at a young age is very difficult. And I regret accepting the deed with a stranger that night during my part time job.

I had a hard time explaining to my Mom and Dad about my pregnancy. They scolded me and worse, they almost got me kicked out from the house. I disappoint them both to the point that they still loathe to see my child growing.

"If it wasn't for that child, you could've graduated high school!" I remember my Mom says to me.

"You could've abort the child, Amy! It wasn't worth to wait!" I clearly remember what my Dad says to me.

But choosing life over abortion is the best thing that I did. I did not regret having Hugo in my life. He helped me motivate in my everyday life and helps me strive hard to work even though adult life is so tiring.

Yet here I am, getting my energy back after a long day of work from him. His laughs, his smile, his voice calling me mommy, and his cute little dance every time he's excited of something.

I laugh from his dancing skill as I stir his milk from the glass and pour it into his baby bottle. He's excited to gulp it for sure.

I can't promote a young mom but even if I had to go through difficult times in life and with my family, I am happy for what my life chose how it was going to be.

"Mommy, can we see grandpa and grandma?" 

It's already past nine in the evening and I'm currently making sure that all the doors are locked. For the last time, I locked the roll up door with the padlock and tossed the keys into my bag.

"Hmm?" I face Hugo who’s waiting patiently for me. "Maybe this weekend, baby. We'll visit grandpa and grandma for you."

"Yay!"

I waited for a cab in the shelter while I carry Hugo on my arms. I'm so fucking tired and sleepy.

༊*·˚༊*·˚༊*·˚༊*·˚༊*·˚༊*·˚˚·*༊˚·*༊˚·*༊˚·*༊˚·**·˚*·˚*·˚*·˚*·˚*·˚˚·*˚·*˚·*˚·*˚·*˚*·˚*·˚*·˚*·˚*·˚*·˚˚·*˚·*˚·*˚·*˚·*˚

I'm pressing my phone in between my shoulder and my ears just to be able to talk to my Mom through the phone while kneading the dough. 

"Please, Mom, let us visit there just this weekend. Hugo wants to see you both."

[No! Cuando digo que no, no! We are not going to see that child you refused to abort instead of going to school!]

I felt my heart sink from what she just said. 

"Hugo is a child, Ma, not something that could easily be thrown. Please, have some respect. You also have a child."

[You are not my child! We have no child named Amelia unless she accepts her mistake and finds that disgusting man who impregnated her and give to him that useless child!]

The next thing I heard is a loud toot indicating that she just ended the call.

I heaved a sign and remove my phone from my shoulder. I cast it on the counter and continue kneading the dough and pass it to our baker. 

My eyes are starting to become watery so I asked chef, the owner of this pizzeria, if I could go to the bathroom for a minute.

Fuck, how am I supposed to tell my son that he can't see his grandparents this weekend? 

As I sat down to the toilet, I burst into tears as I try to punch my chest over and over again.

Comments (1)
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That’s so sad, terrible parents
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    CHAPTER 2: THE HATE THEY GIVEFive years later... Amelia Solace Bernard, the point of view."Amelia! I'm leaving! Your son is at the baby crib back in the staff room and he's crying out loud for fuck's sake, give him a milk already!" Angie, my co-worker, shouted as I try to rub the toilet with a brush. I pushed the door to swing it open and there I see Angie holding out her pouch and waving it at me."Thank you, Anj! Take care!" I waved back with my cleaning gloves. Well, I call her Anj as Angie sounds more like Anji. When I get back to facing the toilet, I let out a scoff and continue rubbing it one more time before finally washing the foam off with the water.For fuck's sake, how do people can't flush their toilet every after use? They only pay for their pizza orders and not cleaning materials, sheez, what an untidy set of people. I'm getting tired every day for scrubbing the toilets, and the floor, and the tables they use and never thought of at least keeping their food or drink

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