My daughter's all grown up

My daughter is happy and grown up too

I forlornly remind myself as I recall happier times that when my daughter is
happy I am happy and my secret is safe. 

My car turns onto the fast dual carriageway.  I truly love my silver BMW and
my seat pushed into my back in its old familiar way as my car accelerated
strongly down towards Skipton on this grey misty evening. My cigarette smoke
is saturating the cosy interior of my love of my life. 

My drifting cigarette smoke is making a warm heady but familiar tang as it
softly billowed spreading mist like into the all nooks and crannies in my BMW. 

I'm with my darling daughter in my lovely car and I should feel content, I
sorrowfully thought and my cigarette glowed brightly yet again.

Taking my cigarette from her lips, daughter grinned as she inhaled and looked
at me, her mother. 

With a devilish smile and tossing her pretty head said to me "Mummy I love
this car!".  I watched my daughter say this and I saw her exhale jerk and
tumble from her lips as she spoke. My throat tightened with torment as I
watched my daughter smoking in my car.  In these close confines, I have no
choice but to breathe in her acrid second-hand smoke. But the thing is. My
daughter is happy, and that aught to be the most important thing for me, for I
am her mother.  

I see my daughter giggling with girlish glee and watched her say "lets go
faster mummy. Let's go faster!!". My heart sank all over again. My car is
powerful and we both are pushed deep into the seats the same as before and
several times today.  My daughter laughed and I wanted to be happy because she
was happy.

While my daughter is happy my secret is safe and I am happy. 

I feel tired and weary as I thought back to yesterday. Yesterday was the
dawning of my daughter's emancipation.  How I wished to God my daughter hadn't
come home from school so soon.

My daughter watched me. My sweet young daughter watched me in bed with my
sixteen-year-old lover. My ten-year-old daughter became unhappy discovering
that me, her mother, had a lover.

I knew if my daughter is unhappy then my secret is not safe and I am unhappy
too. 

Was it not only last week when  she begged me for a new Barbie doll.  Or maybe
the week before, it was a  little pink dress. My daughter has grown up so
quickly.  But yesterday I watched and heard my daughter say to me, her mother,
how if she could be happy again, my husband, her stepfather, would never learn
of my lover. I told her earnestly and with fear in my heart, how I wanted her
to be truly happy again. I watched my sweet daughter think about me wanting
her to be happy and fervently prayed she would like the week before, want
another Barbie doll or perhaps another dress to make her happy and she remain
silent about my lover.

While my daughter is happy my secret is safe and therefore I am happy too. 

My daughter had thoughtfully paused and then with a malicious smile she spoke
to me. My breath caught in disbelief as I thought my daughter asks me for a
cigarette. In astonishment I chuckled. I couldn't handle thoughts of my
ten-year-old child wishing to smoke. With an acerbic voice, repeated her
request of a cigarette from me. With my stomach sinking I realised I hadn't
misheard. Hesitantly I gave her one of my cigarettes and then because I wanted
my daughter to be happy I lit her up too.  My ten-year-old daughter smoked my
cigarette and as she smoked I could tell that she had smoked many times
before.  After an expert snap inhales I saw my pretty little daughters
exhaling smoke dance to the tune of her talking. I listened intently to my
little daughter for I wished her to be happy, for when my daughter is happy my
secret is safe and therefore I am happy too.

She told me that to keep her happy I must always have cigarettes for her. Then
she told me that from now on, only she would smoke and not me, her mother. I
was to stop my lovely smoking habit.  I was to stop being a smoker and my
ten-year-old daughter was to be the only smoker.  Weakly and in torment I
agreed and so she took my pearl lighter and all my cigarettes. Now I have
none. But my ten-year-old daughter was happy. 

I watched my only daughter smoke and she exhaled her smoke into my face to
show me she could properly smoke and she was happy, because for I knew now, to
make my daughter happy I must let her smoke whenever she wished . 

While my daughter is happy my secret is safe and therefore I should be happy
too. 

My car was my escapism. But not any more; As my BMW relentlessly surges
onwards to ever higher speeds my darling daughter positions my cigarette back
in her petite red mouth. I watched her because I'm her mother. 

I watched my daughter's tilt my cigarette jauntily as she deeply pulled taking
into her mouth, my full rich smoke. The full rich smoke that should have been
in my craving mouth. 

I watched my sweet daughter french my luscious smoke that was suspended in her
sweet hot mouth. I enviously watched her smoky breath venting its cargo of
cascading pale grey smoke over my windscreen and my dashboard. "This is so
cooooool!" said my daughter her eyes narrowing in exalted ecstasy. She flicked
my finished cigarette through the open driver's window. I saw my daughter for
the very first time as an exquisite smoker and I thought how quickly my small
girl is growing up. She was happy.

While my daughter is happy my secret is safe and I have be happy too.  .  I
sit in my seat watching in horror, my little daughter exploit my powerful car
with me as her ineffective  passenger. All throughout today its has been my
ten year old child driving my darling car. It has been my young daughter sat
at the wheel. It has been my ten-year-old daughter doing all the grown up
things..  Through my numbed senses I watch my daughter taking another
cigarette from my packet as her inexperienced hand controls my speeding BMW
down the motorway. My lovely car is moving fast and my young daughter is
driving.  She is in my seat, driving my car and smoking my cigarettes. My
daughter is but ten years old and with dismay I watch my daughter lighting my
cigarette. I break down and I plaintively plead with her, to give me a
cigarette. 

She is only ten years old but my daughter laughs and tells me "Fuck off mom!"
and pushes her little foot hard on my car accelerator. She looks at me
insolently and I see my speedometer sweep past 140 mph and I am frightened. I
cry out " Darling please slow down!". My smoking daughter is too engrossed
driving my car and smoking my cigarettes.  "Please, I'm not used to going this
fast" I add watching my smoking daughter look across to me as she deeply
inhaled.  Our eyes meet. Mine all frightened, beseeching. Hers was insolent
and disrespectful. My daughter said "Mom ....shut the fuck up!". Her sweet
little voice enveloped me with a deep diffusing stream of my smoke then she
looked back to the road she was driving my car along  I fell silent and I
watched. My daughter is getting angry with me, her mother.

While my daughter is unhappy my secret is not safe and I am unhappy too. 

My daughter told me to get into the rear of my car. My BMW is a coupe and very
low and I clumsily clamber over. . So I end up cramped into the back seat,
forced to watch my daughter driving my car. She is blissfully singing along
with the music and I see her mouthed words interlaced with her smoky blue
exhale.  I still love my daughter for I am her mother. My love is not in
question But I can see, I've lost control, as I helplessly observe my
fraudulently mature  ten-year-old smoking daughter insolently driving my car.  
  
After all, while my daughter is happy my secret is safe and so I must try to
calm my turmoil and attempt to be happy too.
 
My nerves are shot to pieces and I  beg my ten-year-old daughter to take pity
on me, her 32-year-old mother, and please let her give me a cigarette to calm
my wretched nerves. 

Alas,  she brings my car to a shuddering halt and I barely believe it, but she
orders me, her mother, to get out of my car. I beg her not to be so cruel.....
but she swears at me and so I timidly get out. She drives away leaving me, her
mother, on the side of the road 100 miles from home. I saw my cigarette
glowing in my daughter's lips as she accelerates my car away

I walk despondently down the roadside hoping someone will stop and give me a
lift. Then I feel a little brighter as I think on that my ten-year-old
daughter is probably happy now that she has been allowed to grow up openly. My
ten-year-old offspring must be delirious that she is driving and smoking all
on her own and I smile.

My daughter is happy and my secret is safe

I am happy too