Am I Unwanted?

By Raja Sharma

Ten years have passed and now I am Mrs. Sonia Lawson. My husband, Mike Lawson, was an orphan brought up in an orphanage. He works in a bank. We have been married for four years. I have a little daughter, one year old. We are very happy together. I now believe that God is not cruel. He writes stories of the lives of all his people. I am happy and wish for the happiness of all the children who are in child care homes or orphanage.

Am I Unwanted?
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raja Sharma
• Release date: Apr 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311929594

Raja Sharma

Raja Sharma is a retired college lecturer.He has taught English Literature to University students for more than two decades.His students are scattered all over the world, and it is noticeable that he is in contact with more than ninety thousand of his students.

Book preview

Am I Unwanted?

Raja Sharma

Copyright

Am I Unwanted?

Raja Sharma

Copyright@2014 Raja Sharma

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

Chapter One

Painful memories of the past are like the uninvited ghosts that haunt me from time to time. I try to erase those agonizing moments from my mind but I fail to do so.

My father remained away from home for months, for he worked on a ship. It used to be obviously very difficult for my young mother. She felt very lonely in his long absence. When it became unbearable, she took to drinking.

My father came back home after every three months, but when he came back he would hardly leave my mother alone. He would spend most of his time with her. My mother would be with him either in their bedroom or in local pub.

I remember our mother warning us that we were not supposed to go in front of daddy during his stay at home. She wanted to take most of his time. I was particularly alienated and strictly warned that I should not come in front of my mother and father.

When my father returned home, I would mostly sleep on the attic. I would carry my bed to the attic and sleep alone. Returning from school, I would enter the kitchen and carry one or two sandwiches and a bottle of water with me to the attic. I would close the trap door on the attic. I did not dislike spending my time on the attic. In fact, I developed fondness for solitude which I found there. During my father’s stay at home, I would make my own small world on the attic, away from my brothers and sister, and my parents.

My micro world, the attic, was full of all the strange and antique things. Those old things were crammed disorderly in every available nook and corner. I liked playing with those old things.