There was something missing again. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/eaaa95/620x0/1/0/2025/03/08/44xdtuiadiadqyfl3rc4s1wajuj alt = "old lady @pexels" styles = "background-color: rgba (143,136,128.1)" > < p > I was looking for a son's jacket, the new one, which I bought him for the winter. She hung in the closet yesterday. Now there was no trace of it.

< p > I felt a friend in my stomach.

< p > It couldn't be accidental.

< p > It was again.

< p > — Mom, where is the Kacper jacket ? & amp. I asked, looking her straight in the eye.

< p > stood in my kitchen as if nothing happened. As if she didn't do it hundreds of times earlier.

< p > — Oh, I borrowed it for ola.

< p > ola. My younger sister.

< p > she again.

< p > — You borrowed ? — I reacted & I was slowly, feeling anger in me. & Amp; MDASH; It was my son's jacket, mom.

< p > — Well, what ? Ola also needed.

< p > — But this is not her!

< p > waved her hand.

< P >& Amp; MDASH; You pick on. You can buy a new.

< p > I clenched my hands in my fist.

< p > It wasn't the first time.

< p > for years my things have disappeared & ndash; Clothes, cosmetics, little things that I got as a gift. At the beginning I thought that maybe I forgot, maybe I put something down somewhere.

< p > until one day I saw Ola in my dress.

< p > — Pretty, truth ? Mama gave me.

< P > Mama.

< p > She didn't ask. She did not think she should.

< p > because for her my things were nothing.

< p > A things ?

< p > priceless.

< p > — Give me this & Amp; MDASH; I said hard now.

< p > — Don't overdo it. It's just a jacket!

< p > — It's not about a jacket, mom! The point is that you take everything from me. Even what belongs to my children.

< p > looked at me with a cool smile.

< p > — You exaggerate. You have always had too much and Ola less. I have to help her.

< p > — And me ?

< p > — You can handle.

< p > these words hurt more than all stolen things.

< p > I have always been the stronger for her. The one that can be picked up something, because & bdquo; < p > but I didn't want to be the one who always manages.

< p > — I will not let this more — I said quietly.

< p > mother only touched her shoulders.

< p > — You will not have m & oacute; what can I do.

< p > that day I made a decision.

< p > I didn't want to be a spare c & oacute; rky.

< p > I didn't want anything for her anymore.

< p > p < p > that it ceases to exist in my life.

Natasha Kumar

By Natasha Kumar

Natasha Kumar has been a reporter on the news desk since 2018. Before that she wrote about young adolescence and family dynamics for Styles and was the legal affairs correspondent for the Metro desk. Before joining The Times Hub, Natasha Kumar worked as a staff writer at the Village Voice and a freelancer for Newsday, The Wall Street Journal, GQ and Mirabella. To get in touch, contact me through my natasha@thetimeshub.in 1-800-268-7116