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Instead of pressing her further, I asked another question, my voice tinged with anxiety. "Why the suitcases, Mommy? Are you leaving again?"
A flicker of hesitation crossed her face before she stammered, "Well, um... I'm leaving... for a while."
"Where are you going?" I interrupted, my heart pounding in my chest.
"To somewhere..." she began, her voice trailing off. Then, with a wistful smile, she added, "...somewhere far far away that only you and I know."
"Where's far far away?" I asked, my eyes wide with wonder and trepidation.
"As the name suggests, it's a faraway place where magic comes true. And I think my destiny may lie in traveling there," she explained, her voice filled with a longing that I couldn't understand.
But when she spoke like that, using fairytales to placate me, I knew instinctively to be afraid. A sense of protectiveness washed over me, an overwhelming urge to keep my beloved mother safe. "That means you'll be lost forever!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with a mixture of fear and desperation.
She chuckled softly, reaching out to caress my cheek. "I'm not going to be lost, Daxson," she reassured me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'll always be with you, no matter where I am."
My heart raced with apprehension as I clung tightly to my mother's hand, my mind haunted by her tales of the mysterious place called Far Far Away. "But I've heard that anyone who goes there never returns!" I exclaimed, my voice trembling with fear.
"Who told you that, darling?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.
"You did, Mommy!" I cried, my eyes wide with disbelief. "Remember?"
My mother's brow furrowed as she attempted to recall the fabrications she had woven into her enchanting stories. "Well, Far Far Away isn't quite as dreadful as I may have made it sound," she began, her voice faltering as she searched for the appropriate words.
"But it's so far away, Mommy!" I protested. "And you'll be lost there forever if you go... I'm not letting you go there ever again!"
My mother chuckled softly at my unwavering determination. "You're such a stubborn little peanut," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Far Far Away isn't as bad as you think. Imagine it as a place where dreams come true."
My curiosity was piqued. "Dreams come true? How?" I asked.
"It's a place where I'll finally meet my Prince Charming," she explained, her voice soft and wistful. "He'll find my lost glass slipper, we'll kiss, and... well, that's all."
Confusion washed over me. "But I thought Daddy was your Prince Charming, Mommy. And your lost glass slipper," I said, my brows knitted together in perplexity.
A shadow of sadness crossed her features. "He was, but not anymore," she replied, her voice tinged with regret. It was as if she had endured countless trials and tribulations just to find me, her precious son.
Within the tapestry of my childhood memories, one moment stands out with the clarity of a sunbeam piercing through storm clouds: the day my mother, an avid reader with a penchant for fairy tales, attempted to embroider her fantastical narratives onto the fabric of my young mind.
As a boy more inclined toward adventure and exploration than princes and princesses, I harbored a secret distaste for these tales, yet my love for my mother and the unbreakable bond we shared compelled me to endure her whimsical recitations.
In her eyes, I was the protagonist of her own enchanting story, destined to embark on a grand quest to mend her shattered glass slipper.
"Why, Mother?" I inquired, my youthful curiosity piqued yet tempered by a hint of reluctance. Fairy tales held little allure for me, existing in a realm far removed from my own interests. Nevertheless, I listened intently, eager to decipher the enigmas concealed within her words.
"Your father," she explained, her voice laden with a wistful melancholy, "has shattered my glass slipper, and I must find someone to mend it."
Intrigued despite myself, I pressed further, "And who might this 'someone' be, Mother?"
A faraway look clouded her eyes as she responded, "I do not know yet, my dear. The only way to find them is to search in faraway lands, where magic and wonder still reside. Do you understand now, my son?"
I nodded, my heart stirring with an inexplicable excitement. Though the prospect of embarking on such a quest seemed daunting, the thought of aiding my mother in her time of need propelled me forward.
"Good," she said, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she pinched my chin affectionately. Rising from her seat, she began rearranging her bags and suitcases, her movements imbued with a renewed sense of purpose.
As I watched her, a realization dawned upon me: while I may not have shared my mother's passion for fairy tales, I possessed an unwavering belief in the power of love and the unbreakable bonds that unite families.
It was this belief that would guide me on the extraordinary journey that lay ahead, a journey filled with trials and tribulations, yet also with the promise of healing and redemption.
In the hushed stillness of the twilight room, I could hardly believe my ears as I asked, "Mommy, will you ever return?" The weight of her ????ing for a distant land, far beyond my reach, pressed against my tender heart.
