How I killed My Mother Again

If not for the hiss I would have slept through her visit again. mother was gliding effortlessly past my grandmother: the witch. I am sure she enticed her with an egg which was meant for me. Perhaps starve me out of this life. She was busy flipping the rice in the air to excise the husk out of it.

My father still held out a morsel of affection for me. He did his half hearted best to nudge me away from her murderous schemes, each time she tried. My step mother didn’t care whether I lived or not. She didn’t care if anyone lived or not. She was fat and had a hump for a back, which made her look like a cross between a camel and a human. She ate, slept, farted and ate, the whole day. She had earned a fat dowry for my father.

My heart shook my entire body and the ‘Kumbuk’ stick bit in to my palms. Mother raised her head right next to me and the stick suddenly felt light as I raised my arms. The blow crushed her hood and blood blurted out. I struck again and severed her head from the coils which were still writhing.

The witch swore the cobra was her daughter reborn, the mother I had killed when I came in to this cursed world. But all I see is a poisonous snake. Not the sweet woman who cuddles her little daughter in my dreams.