My Journal: The day my mother died.

I was five years old when my beloved mother,Nang Putih binti Nyak Taib,died. She died giving birth to my youngest sister,Norhayati. I was too young to experience sadness and grief but I remembered having a feeling of emptiness after she was taken away. My father and other grown-ups didn’t allow me to follow them to the grave,thinking that I might be having nightmares or bad dreams. So,I was forced to remain at home with my granny and other women-folks. I was struggling to get away when I saw my mother.

I saw my mother sitting where she used to sit,a smile of her face. She was clad in white and she exuded a powerful odour of  Arabic perfume.When she called my name and waved me to her,I rushed to embrace her as tight as I could. “Mother will always be with you,”she whispered when I glanced up and gazed into her face.Then,she kissed my forehead,tears streaming down her cheeks.I felt something like electric current jolt through me and I fainted. (186 words)

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