A writer's touch

Staring through the glass window, she watched how droplets of water slides down the glass, deep down her heart she wished to have never existed. tears ran down her cheeks, her ears were almost deafened by her mother’s scream and insensible mumblings. it’s been thirty years since her mother ran mad. Ellen’s father died when she was tender so she was raised by her Paternal uncle. for she had no one from her mother’s linage who behaved sane, her mother had three sisters, all of which had ran mad after each of their children turned a year older. Sitting broken on the cushion she imagined what sort of family she found herself, it happened from her ancestors down to her mother. Ellen’s mum became mad after two years , the delay made everyone think a miracle of healing had occurred, but it was a false hope. I’m turning 33 years…

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