The Migrant Mother

I feel really sorry for my kids.. I don’t know what I will do now. Everything has fallen inside of me, and I don’t know if I will ever be able to build it back up again. 5 years of working as a migrant. Working 6 hours a day, and earning the money for one bread for each of my kids. Now they don’t even want me to work for them. What will I do...? I remember back in the days when my husband and I would go in the field, pick flowers and eat as much as we like, then lie on the grass and just talk for hours. Now it is just a part of my history, and it is something that cannot happen twice in my life. It was 3 years ago when he disappeared on one cold night in december. I was feeding my kids, and my husband went out to check on the crops that was growing rapidly. He would have normally taken half an hour or so, but even after 2 hours he would not return. I was starting to get worried, so I decided to put my babies in bed and head outside. It took a long time until they stopped crying and started sleeping. Right after that was done, I took out a coat and headed straight towards the field. No one. I could see nor hear anyone but faint crimson marks on the floor. I first thought it was the berries that had smashed to the ground, but when I took a closer look, it was too red and big to be the marks of a berry. It would be a lie if I said I did not think it was blood, as the second thought that came to mind was blood. As I kept looking at that mysterious crimson makings on the ground, I felt my whole body shiver with fear. 

‘Lets just go inside and wait for him. He will come back sooner or later!’ I thought to myself, and led myself inside the house. 

From then, a few years have passed and he still has not returned. However, the kids and I moved far away from this empty house; a house that no longer felt like a home. We moved into the city, and there we lived inside the basement of the person’s house I was going to work for. I would work for hours and hours, and receive a few pennies. With these pennies, I would mostly spend it on my kids. None of these people were kind wherever I went. They would order me to do things that did not even need cleaning or yet picking (crops), and it would never end. I have moved on and on, and this was a tiring job for the children as they would have to stay in their rooms most of the day. Last week, I was cut from my job. I have no hope, and I do not know what I will do now. Most importantly, I do not know how I will feed my kids.. Everything seems black in front of my eyes, and I feel like I have gone blind. Blind in mind and blind in sight. I’m just lost, and I do not know myself anymore.. I wish I would be able to turn back time, back to where I had my whole family. A family that was happy and full of laughter.