Magician City Chapter 2

 Chapter 2. Love and Hatred

In one shabby hospital, a boy was born.

He was extremely normal. Like any other newborn child, he was tiny and fragile, with a sort of cute wrinkled ugliness.

After a few days, his wrinkled skin began to iron out, and he became enough to be the apple of his parent's eyes.

His limbs were all in their right places and he wasn't sick.

Everything was right but one. He did not have a father.

In any other household, the news of a woman giving birth would have had their husbands waiting nervously in the hallways of the hospital. However, for the infant, no father was seen even when his mother finished her aftercare.

The neighbors whispered and gossiped that an illegitimate child was born.

The child and his family seemed to have a tough history.

As its proof, his family consisted of only two members: his grandmother and his mother, both of which who were not very delighted of their newborn child.

Maybe the boy felt it too, because he did not pester the family like other babies, crying and throwing a fit, but slept quietly all day.

The boy soon became 3 years old, and he grew without a fault in sight. His mother thought, although he was her child, the boy grew unusually normally like any other child. He did not start walking before other kids did, and he did not start talking before other kids did either. He was the standard definition of a 3-year-old.

However, everything changed within one day when the boy and his mother went for a walk, and the mother realized that he was not ordinary. The two were walking next to a ditch when the mother happened to look away for a bit, daydreaming. Then, with a sudden crash, the boy went tumbling down the ditch.

His fall was nearly 5 meters. His surprised mother hurriedly slid down the ditch next to her child. With her face full of worry, she lifted her child in her arms, but the response that came back was nothing like she had imagined.

Any other child would have already been crying, throwing a tantrum, whining that it hurt, but her child did not cry. Unfazed and calm, he looked up at her quietly with an inexplicable face showing his b.l.o.o.d.y knees that were bruised and sc.r.a.ped from the fall.

The mother came back home and deeply thought about her child. Then, she came to the realization that she had been carelessly overlooking some of his strange characteristics.

First, her little boy rarely cried, even when he was an infant.

Crying was any baby's instinct. Most cry when they are hungry, nervous, sleepy, when the diaper is wet or even for no tangible reason, but her child only cried five times a day at the maximum.

Until now, the woman thought her baby was one of the tamer, easy-to-raise babies, who were naturally born with kindness, but when looked at closely with attention, the boy was far from common.

Belatedly, the woman realized her inattentiveness to the unresponsiveness of her child and rushed him to the hospital.

To her surprise, the doctor did not diagnose her son of a disorder. He replied that these cases were not too common, but they do exist and are completely normal.

The doctor praised the child that in the old days, kids like him would grow to be generals of an army, but the mother was far from impressed. Rather, she was drowned in her thoughts, troubled more than ever.

When she thought back, the father of her child told her that he was often praised the same way: that he would grow up to be a great general. This was because of his stern, heavy personality which made it unlikely for him to be wavered by any ordinary stimulant.

Before, she liked that side of him. It felt protective and masculine, but now she knew too well that it was love that blinded her from the truth. She hated him.

But now, her little boy was the exact replica of that man.

The man who had left her.

The small disease of a praise that the doctor brought infested her heart with various sorts of horrible a.s.sumptions. At first, she tried not to think too much of it, but as she came back home, her terrifying imaginations spread like wildfire. The child no longer felt like hers, but his. The closer she got to her home, the more detailed and painful her thoughts became.

'If I look at the child, I am going to have to think of that man every day. Could I really stand that? That is more than enough torture!'

'I was going to abort him anyway… Didn't I finish my job as a good parent if I gave birth to him?'

'If I keep living like this as an unmarried single mom, what about my youth? I'm only 25. What about my life?'

'Do I really have to die, sacrificing my whole life suffering for this kid?'

The moment she arrived at her doorstep, the thoughts ended with one final knot.

'If he resembles his father so much, he will also…'

She entered her house, her eyes filled with an odd sense of love and hatred.

It seemed as if she had made up her mind as she laid her child to sleep.

A few more years pa.s.sed.

The woman believed she could start her life at a clean slate without her child, but it wasn't easy as she thought.

Maybe it would have been a different story if the child was someone else's, but he was hers.

In honesty, she was going to abort her child. She thought the father of her child should have stayed despite his family's extreme efforts to end their relationship. They were deeply in love! Or so she thought. But as soon as he heard about her pregnancy, he immediately turned a cold shoulder. He said that he was going to marry another woman.

She hated him.

She hated him as well as herself for falling over his sweet lies.

She hated her unborn child as it was a proof of her foolishness.

But through it all, she could not erase her child. Maybe she didn't have the heart, but also because she remembered what she kept from a memorable college lecture.

The professor explained that one should not discriminate another with their race, s.e.x or background. The reason was that no human has the power to choose what they wish to be born into. Bluntly put, who would want to be born into a poor family?

The woman, who was often discriminated for her gender had nodded deeply in agreement.

The professor was right. A child cannot pick its own mother.

Therefore, one mustn’t pick their own child.

With this thought in mind, the woman had the baby. As soon as the boy was born she was going to give him away to some orphanage down the street, but as she gave birth, those thoughts were erased.

The delightful sound of a baby crying for the first time, telling the world of its presence, was enough to wash away any hardships she faced in life. Oh, the thrill of joy she felt!

But one's emotions fade with time.

She held on well for a few years, but when the boy turned 6, she fled. All that was left was a note that she was going to earn money and a bank book sitting on the dining table.

At first at least, a monthly deposit of 200 dollars or so was sent to the account. However, that lasted only till 2 months ago. The rare phone calls from time to time stopped long before that.

It was an evident fly-by-night, but the little boy's grandmother, or the woman's mother, only sighed in despair and said nothing else.

The grandmother was old. She was aged enough to need care and be provided for, but all she was left with was a little boy without his mother. However, she thought it was for the best.

She thought it was surprising that the woman even held on for this long.

"I worry if she’s eating well.."

Thinking of the woman's soon-to-come birthday, the grandmother wiped away a tear. It has been a year since her last contact with her daughter but that gave her room to believe. As it said in the old days, no noise is better than silence, as silence meant that everything was in peace. Like so, the grandmother believed her daughter was doing well at a faraway place.

The grandmother wished her daughter would never return, although it is a sad thought considering the young 7-year-old boy.

She wanted nothing but her daughter to throw away the burden of an old mother and an illegitimate child, and start a new life.

The grandmother's wishes were then granted.

She never met her daughter ever again.