In the midst of a heart-to-heart, Cecille’s mother broke down and sobbingly admitted to her that she’d aborted Cecille’s unborn baby sister when Cecille was still a young girl. Now a grown woman, Cecille responded in the only way she knew fit — offer her mother some solace and quietly grieve the loss of a sister she never had.
Meanwhile, her sombre and supportive façade served to mask the only thought running through her head — I wish it were me instead.
I cannot conceive of any parent confessing such a thing to their child.
I know someone who confessed such a thing…though it wasn’t like a major “confession” or anything. It was said in such a matter of fact way, like, “it happened 30 years ago…no biggie…”
I thought the focus would be on how miserable poor Cecille’s life must have been for her to feel the way that she did. (Or, perhaps, how clever I was to choose the word ‘head’ to rhyme with ‘instead.’) And once again, I’m fascinated by your points of view.