My comfy blanket

My comfy blanket

When I was a child, of course everyone was, no achievement as such but those days, I always believed that a blanket can protect me from anything.

I always chose my blanket color myself, I did not let anyone have it. Me and one me used it.

It was my go to place all the time. Everytime momma beat me, I hid myself in the blanket and would cry as much as I wanted. I always believed that my sound did not go out of the banket no matter how hard I cried.

Everytime I had something to share, I would go in my blanket and would talk to my blanket. It wasn’t that I was mad but it was that I preferred talking to it and share my things because I believed, my blanket understands me.

I remember, everytime mummy beat me, I would intentionally cry little more than anticipated 🙈. I would intentionally cry hard so that my mom would come to me and take me close, she never did.

I used to cry with a tone that one would think I’m gonna die ..hahahaha !!! Back then, I thought it was cool but then I realized that my nature never mattered. It never mattered how I was, it never mattered how awesome my behavior was, i was beaten up.

Don’t take it wrong, my mom is awesome, it’s just that I have accepted that no matter how hard I try, I would always be misinterpreted.

So every time my mom beat me, I would cry a bit, would sit with mom for a while, would expect her to take me close, I knew she won’t .. so got up and went to my blanket and hide in it.

I remember, everyday I went on my bed, I would pull it all over me and I would count the number of tiny little holes in it and would sleep counting them.

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