“It does not matter.” She said, her mouth twisted in a frown. “I can make do on my own.” She stood before me in a checkered apron, eyes glinting as tears quietly fell. Her hair was in a loose braid, haphazardly done due to lack of time.
I spoke now, “I will pick up my things and leave this godforsaken village, with or without you.” I stood; a mirror image of my mother, down to the cold, glittering eyes. I did not want to leave her behind, but she must understand that seedlings must separate themselves from the tree in order to grow. I sought the future, technology and books, things that are impossible to find in a small village.
“If I can not stop you, then leave. But mark my word, Elsa, your mind is too full of books and stories. A woman is demoralized by even an inkling of those words.” Her tears had had dried, replaced by the malice of disappointment. “You’d be better off staying a housewife, here, where it’s safe and secure. Or are we just not good enough for you?” A sneer played on the edges of her taunt. I straightened my shoulders, imagining a string of intelligence pulling me above my dear mother’s level. “How you mock me so. It is not a matter of being superior, as you should know, but a matter of arising beyond myself. This is entirely personal.”
My voice dripped with venomous tinge, and my eyes dared her to make another play at my honor. She bowed her head, signaling defeat and acceptance. “Do be careful child.” She whispered. “Women are not welcome out there.”