After My Death, My Mother Finally Regrets
My sister, Laura Ward, died the year we were ten, the year we snuck out of school to play. From that day forward, my mother’s grief turned into a burning hatred for me, convinced that I was the reason my sister was gone. She treated me like a servant, like an unwanted burden, and filled the void by adopting a perfect, obedient daughter to replace my sister. She took everything from me without a second thought — my rights, my freedom, my very existence — and even demanded that I give up a kidney for her precious adopted girl.
Alright, Mother, if you want a life, I’ll give you mine!
But it was only when my body lay cold, my breath long gone, that she finally turned and looked at me.
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