Who would have thought this would happen in my life. I had just turned 18, and I already had to take on the responsibilities of being a mother, which from a biological standpoint, I was not. I have a sister, an older sister. She’s six years older than me. Monica gave birth to her daughter Alice at the age of 24, without even knowing by whom. Being a girl with a rather promiscuous lifestyle, Monica didn’t want to take care of her daughter.
When she told her mother and me that she was going to give her daughter to a shelter, we were just dumbfounded. Then we suggested that in that case, it would be better if she gave us the girl. Since Monica didn’t really care who to give her daughter to, she easily let me take custody of her daughter so we could bring her up and take care of her. When I first took little Alice in my arms, felt the warmth of her little baby body, I immediately felt an incredible love for this tiny curdle. It’s not strange that in subsequent years I became her mother, despite my too young age for such a serious responsibility. I went to university to study. While I was at school, my mother watched the baby.
When I came back, I would take care of my daughter. At the age of 18 I had a young man by the name of Ronald. Ronald and I started dating when I was 16. We had so many plans, so many hopes, and I loved him very much. I dreamed that one day we would have a family. But when Ronald found out what kind of responsibility I was taking on, he started pulling away. He said that he didn’t need the problems of another man’s child at all. Just a couple of months later we broke up.
To be honest, I experienced this breakup very hard. After all, the first love, the first dream, hope. But to give up his daughter, I also could not, I was not able to sacrifice his child in the name of love. Nevertheless, I finished my studies at university and found a good job. My mother and I raised Alice in complete love and understanding. I tried to give the best to my daughter. I tried to be the mother that everyone would dream of, because I understood how hard it was for her to realize that her own mother had left her so easily. We told her about her mother’s decision right away when Alice reached a conscious age.
And so the years passed, Alice became a teenager. By the time I was 32 I still didn’t have a stable relationship with a man in the form of marriage. No one particularly wanted to get involved with the mother of the child. And I didn’t particularly want to. I found everything I needed in my daughter – love, support, everything. And there it was, the climax. Suddenly there was a sister on the horizon of our quiet life. For years she had been away from home, building relationships with men. She came to our house in her own expensive car, full of all sorts of expensive diamonds, all sorts of lady herself. She waved a wad of dollars at her daughter, and she left with her. Yes, my Alice, who I thought was my daughter, for whom I had sacrificed a lot, left with her mother, the cuckoo. I still can’t believe it – Alice doesn’t even call my mom and me.
The only good news is that my boss recently proposed to me, and I said yes. So much for saving my life.
