Do I Look Like Them?

By Safoorah Aafreen

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her body slowly started to tremble. As her face filled with

disgust as she looked at herself. She winced as she remembered the way her own child. Her

flesh and blood flinched as she tried to give him a high five.

It was her fault. Obviously. Had she not hit him before. In the sake of “discipline”. He would not

have had a reason to flinch away from her.

She slowly dragged her hand to her face. Seeing her parents in herself. She did look like them.

But now? She was beginning to act like them. She was grateful her husband understood her but

stopped her from doing any more damage.

Slowly cupping her face. A sharp noise was heard across the silent room. She slapped herself.

She looked at her reflection in silence. “Not enough”, she said to no one in particular. Maybe

herself. She slapped herself again

And again

And again

And again

Tears flowing down her face. She screamed, Grateful that her son had gone to school today. .

Pulled at her hair. The burning sensation at her scalp made her feel like she was getting the

punishment she deserved.

Her anger filled her. Anger at herself. Hating her.

“I promised i wouldn't be like them”

“And yet..”

She screamed in pain. Her memories of her own childhood come rushing back. Dragging her

nails across her face, chest, body. Anywhere.

Her husband rushes in to find her on the ground. Sobbing. Hurting herself.

He kneels down and pulls her hand away from her and tries to soothe her. Comforting her.

After a while, she calmed down. He laid her on the bed. She was tired.

“I promised myself that I wouldn't bring a child into this world to break him. I wouldn't want my

child to glue himself again just because of his mother”

She says as she falls asleep.

She is woken up by a loud voice going,”mama!”

She looks at him scared. As if she’s scared of herself, for him.

Her husband just nods and smiles at her.

She smiles at her son.”Mhmm yes, Viole?”

“Teacher told me to draw the person i love the most and i drew you look-”, as she registered his

words and looked at the drawing she hugged him instantly. Tears flowing again.

“Mommy’s sorry, Viole, so sorry”, she kept repeating at the confused five year old child who

looked worried for his mom.

Her husband pulls them in a bear hug and says, “it’s okay, and if it’s not. It will be''.

By Safoorah Aafreen