My tears

Shirra By Shirra, 27th Oct 2010 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Short Stories

This is the complete story of my first written story "My tears". The latter part uncovers the curse that the main character has been carrying.
Crying is not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of being alive. But with a cursed life is different, because crying is a cause of Death.
"Don't worry, you are coming home now, in a place where you can laugh until you cry and cry until you laugh. You don't have to worry for Death to come."

Tears of Pearls

The darkness was engulfing the imperceptible light that provided me a subtle hope. I couldn't see anything from where I lay. I kept my eyes shut while I was conjuring some images of my past yet failed. My memories were too blurred to remember. To my disappointment, I just sprawled my body on the muddy ground. I was petrified by the coldness of the perch. It was a --nightmare. The fetid stench of mud kept pressing to my nerves towards my brain telling to keep alive or the opposite I guess.

" Am I going to live long?" I asked myself.

It was a question I mustered for an eternity. YES, an eternity. Being trapped in this dark and cold place is like an eternity of suffering.
Loosing all the passions to live, I started to drain the tears from my eyes unconsciously.
" Are these tears"? I cried trembling. For the very first time in my life, I learned to cry. I remembered to cry.

"Your verdant eyes shouldn't shed a tear. Don't waste your pearls." I remembered my mother saying those words. Those lifeless words with no signs of love. She used to talk to me about curses and incantations but all of it were a bluff. And she also has given me premonitions not to cry. Her words were too sharp that it carved into my senses-do not cry, do not weep for useless things, do not waste your pearls- those were the words she kept repeating every now and then. Those words were wrought into my senses and they became part of my growing ups. But also a part of it were the confusions and questions. " Why? Why can't I cry? Why can't I show to the world and even to them that I am weak? I am weak. Even before and they don't even accept it."
I never understood my mother. She was like a box unopened for a long time, unharmed yet dangerous. Until the moment I cried. A single pearl formed from my tears and fell into the muddy ground. Then, there were PEARLS.


I was dazzled with what I saw, amidst the fear that I was feeling. My tears formed to pearls and I couldn't hardly believe it. When I was a child, I believed that pearls were dewdrops filled with moonlight that fell into the ocean and were swallowed by oysters. I called the process miraculous. For those years, I dreamed of becoming an oyster, to create a pearl of my own, to create my own miracle.

"Mother, can I be an oyster?" I asked my mother in a sudden way and she reacted differently than I expected.

"Oysters live as deep as 48 to 64 ft in the ocean. Do you want to live in that very cold place?" she stared at me with cold eyes.

"If it's the only way to form the pearls, I would do it. After all, pearls are very rewarding that living in the abyss will be worth it." I replied.

My mother never spoke again. She retired to bed and never opened the topic. After Father died, she never allowed me to go out from the house which was the worst thing that happened following my father's death. I never again visited the ocean, ran in the meadow with my bare feet, and witness the sunset from the horizon. I was kept in the dark, in our homestead, but it was not a home to call. She took away my freedom to live. Day and night had no difference for they were intertwined as one, Darkness.


Back in this deep cleft, my mind became clear. My tears drained away my sadness and turned this place my haven. The pearls mustered around me, like beautiful little angels in the sky. I couldn't hide my admiration to these beautiful creations. I couldn't say any other words but MIRACULOUS.

"If it's the only way to form the pearls, I would do it. After all, pearls are very rewarding that living in the abyss will be worth it." I remembered the exact words I said to my mother one day. And it's exactly what was happening at the moment.

I have been an oyster ever since. I created pearls through my tears. It was a miracle for me but a curse, for my mother. She didn't liked me, right from the very start, and I kept asking myself why. And now, the answer unfolded right in front of me.

" How could my own mother rejected my gift? Doesn't she know the true meaning of beauty? She kept hiding me from the face of the world just to mask the curse inside me." -- I heaved myself to sit down.
" Can't she see the beauty of my creation?" I kept mustering those words in my head while I slowly built anger towards my own mother, for becoming so cold as snow, lifeless like a rotten wood, and cruel as the waves.

"If this is a curse, then I am lucky." I couldn't understand the words that were coming out from my own lips. I was under a very deep and cold cleft, I was exhausted from crying, my mother didn't love me, and the world betrayed me; but I continued to live my life. I didn't blame the world for the things that were happening to me, for without the sufferings that I have encountered, I wouldn't be able to open my own box.

Death: Freedom

In this deep and cold place, I believed, that I was reborn. After crying myself out, I felt satisfied but, something wasn't right. I felt strange. My breathing, my heart beat, my body-- they were all different. I had labored breathing, my heart beat so fast and so loud, and my body--felt intense heat.

"Mother!!!"-- I shouted so loud that my voice echoed to the sky. Mother? How, after I felt anger towards her, could I mention her name?

My body continued to change, until I felt that something was searing my chest.

"No!!!" I shouted as hard as I could but even my own ears became deaf with pain. I saw the pearls melting in the mud, slowly disappearing.
"Don't leave me. You are the only thing that keep me alive." It was of no use. They continued melting until they totally disappeared. I felt my body numb; the pain continued to pass through my nerves, but my body already became immune.

I lay in the ground, confused and incapacitated. Until I heard a soft voice,
" Don't cry honey. Don't waste your tears. Don"t waste your pearls for you are a precious little angel and I don't want you to--die." It was my mother's voice, but It was different, She was so kind and a MOTHER.

" How come I will die by just crying?" It was me asking my mother.

" Because-- because, you are cursed." I heard my mother sobbed and she hugged me. I didn't knew how, but she hugged me, I felt it. Her voices and cries echoed in my my ears,and I felt something strange inside me, I--missed my mother. I was about to cry but I couldn't cry anymore.

"Now, I know why. Now I know why mother overprotected me. Mother, I'm sorry but the damage has been done. I never will not understand you, until it's too late."

I covered my face with my two palms, wet it with mud while I continued lying in the mud. I thought to myself, "if only" I knew from the very start. I closed my eyes and started to dream. In my dream, I saw myself with my mother and father. It was so clear that I didn't want to open my eyes again. We were happy, very happy.

" Mother, father, let's stay like this forever." I stared at their faces. I saw in them satisfaction, so thus I.

"You're sufferings will end now my child. Do you want to get out from the cleft?" It was my father's and I missed those voices of him, after his very death.

"Yes father." I was frank without ambivalence.
He gave me an apple to eat while he and mother were smiling at me.

"Don't worry, you are coming home now, in a place where you can laugh until you cry and cry until you laugh. You don't have to worry for Death to come." It was mother's, I felt a kind of guilt while hearing her voice.

I ate the apple as if I haven't eaten for days. It was as sweet as my parent's embrace. I never wanted it to end, I wanted to be with them forever. Then a big door opened before us. A light spread and unfolded a paradise. It was place called home.

"If I'm dead, then I'm lucky for I am totally FREE."



Crying, Family, Pain, Tears

Meet the author

author avatar Shirra
I love writing. It's my passion. I love to write poems and stories. It's my way of connecting to nature and people around me.

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author avatar angel
29th Oct 2010 (#)

wow! this is a nice read, shir! im looking forward for your next article!

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author avatar Shirra
29th Oct 2010 (#)

thanks angel. I have loads in my head but i just can't express it. You have very nice articles and stories too...I've read them.

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