No matter what, though, no matter how long it had been, with every hopeful pregnancy she never got her boy back. Never! Of course she understood it was useless to hope that she would. That had been made clear to her during the sentencing after the bridge between the two worlds had collapse. Joanna knew he was still alive, but no witchcraft could help him now. He was out of her reach. She held on to the one thing that she still had that reminded her of his childhood. That red sporty race car which she got for her boy during his 6th birthday. The last birthday he celebrated with her and the girls.
Photo by fotografierende from Pexels
One would think after so many lifetimes the pain would dull a little, but it never did. If anything, every passing year just made it ache even much more. She missed him more than ever and thought of him every day. That was the problem with motherhood; not only did it make you fat and put you in anxiety lines in your forehead; but the love you felt - that intense, all-consuming love for one's child - was like owning the sharpest and most exquisite knife. It stabbed her right in the heart. Her boy was alive somewhere but he might as well be dead to her; since she would never get him back. They made sure of it. It was the worst kind of sentence a mother could endure, which was why it had been given.
This is a continuation free write prompt which turned into a short story novel. Perhaps, not so short anymore; anyhow hope you enjoy it. For previous prompts about the Witches of Farrenmore Heights; scroll below for each link
Ingrid Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18| Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21| Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25| Part 26| Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35| Part 36 \ Part 37