I walk alone along in the dark night three streets away from home staring blindly at the starry sky trying to find several answers to the many questions from my daughter. Where is mummy? She has asked over a thousand times and the echoes of her single question had kept echoing in my head like for ever. I miss her so much as well and I cannot stop asking why it all has to be the way it is. Looking back now, I remember every detail like it were all now. She was lost forever. As I had known it, the event replayed itself before my very eyes and I love her the more. And as I walk alone, I smell her beside me. Talking to me in a tones I m familiar with. and she said to, tell her… She wakes me up. She is having contractions. I walk her around the room. The sun was just rising. She sits by the window. The first rays of light hitting her face. She smiles at me in a way that I have never seen before. Like she has a secret she can’t wait to share. She’s beautiful. Calm. I sit by her side counting the minutes between contractions and delivery. I call for an ambulance. I helped her to her feet. She smiles and tells me she loves me. That she just had the most amazing dream. That she was swimming underwater in a lake and she could breath. It was night yet she could see. Because the moon light made paths through the waters like fingers pointing the way. She was happy swimming among the fishes. And by the time the doctors arrived, her face had gone ash white. Her eyes were distant. But her grip was still strong. When her strengths failed her during delivery, they cut into her under my watch while I stream blood and sweat and they pulled you out. You were white but almost turn blue black. Not breathing. The cord was still wrapped around your little neck. The doctor worked on you while I watch on with hot tears rolling down my eyes. And as you took you first breath, she took her last. They tried to revive her but she was gone in minutes and you are here. When she left, I felt naked and broken. A part of me dies with her. I felt cheated and stranded. I knew she stopped fighting not because she couldn’t fight any more. But because it’s a price she had to pay to give back what belongs to life in a hard way. You. She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful not like those girls on the runway. She was ageless and she was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for that sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. As I learned to accept my faith, I began to relate to people on a deeper level and saw that everyone comes with their own pains and struggles. I learned to appreciate every of my pains and people for their flaws as much as their strengths and mine, which in turn helped me to accept myself the more… One day, recently, I realize that life should be a glorious adventure and I decided that I am worthy enough to enjoy it. So I finally let her hands that I have held in my mind for years go but I still remember her not faintly in my head. I know she will not want me to remain lost in my mind for ever to raise you and give you a better life. So I learn to smile again, I learnt it from you. And I was perfect again. For her, for you…

15 thoughts on “Inception” by Ogundairo Abiodun (@Ogundairo-Abiodun)

  1. it’s well composed and touchy…i love it

    1. Thank you so much. I appreciate…

  2. Tell your daughter that mum died when she was born.
    This was well edited. Well done.

    1. Thank you so much. I will…*smiles

  3. Faith should be written as fate in this story. When writing, do not mix tenses as it confuses the reader.

    1. Noted sir/ma thank you

  4. Nicely written piece…but I’m still trying to understand the link to the title….’inception’ …could this be a play on ‘conception’

    1. Thank you so much…I only left it for pple so see through the whole write up. Noted any way

  5. Nice piece of work…

    1. Thank you.

  6. It’s a touching piece and it would have been much better if you didn’t get your tenses muddled up. Also, I’m confused about the 2nd person (Is the guy talking to the mother or the daughter?), you insinuated both at different points in the story.

    1. Yea, the guy is talking to the daughter…thanks for reading….

  7. @ogundairo-abiodun, this was meant to be a sad story, but I didn’t really feel the sadness as much as I should have. Maybe you should have spent more time showing how much the MC had loved the mother while she was still alive.

    Others have already commented on the tense confusion.

  8. Good one..However,it comes with mixed up tenses..

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