The Mother Who Named Justice

I am the Blackwidow. My intentions are vague and anonymous. I came from solitary death, deeply sulked in betrayal by and distrust towards social environment. As is my fate, even least expected, I rose and lived to fulfill my pursuit. Although I have clearly understood that my time has been granted limitedly, I knew that premeditations of future pandemonic struggles was solely entitled to my existence. Cursed personal qualifications happened to fit the position required. The goal was definite–to reunite 2 offsprings of my blood, to save the streetchildren, to renounce existing societal principles through unconventional writings.

Initial path started ruggedly, with nothing but a recovering body. I was warned but my will was ready. Some lives have to be sacrificed. For that I’m praying for their absolution. My heart was buried somewhere unseen to fulfill what was written. Pace picked up speed, gathering as much resources to implement course of action. Pain was invariably dominant but I had to dismiss it just as I am compelled to not recognize emotions. Then the wild animal, who happens to be a mother too, was struck behind by an influence who catalyzes injustice within the system. Social welfare, women’s desk and then arm forces. Altogether adamant in such cofluence to favor the influence/power. What can be done? Transparency of the process; discussion on the flaws imposed in the system; to give accountability on those who have abused their influence.

Behind the objectivity of situation, every moment ceases with memories of her stuff laying in the house..slippers, uniform, bicycle..clothes. While everyone that surrounds me dwell in rage and tears, I was quietly grieving the vulnerability of motherhood. Her cries as soon as she came out of my inside, observing and feeling every piece of me for months. She knows me. She knows I have consistently fought for others and such with utmost for her. This voice will be heard. This voice will be among others to claim justice.

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