MasukMy mother was the best portrait artist in the police station. She had a strong sense of justice and brooked no evil. However, all I got was a sharp retort when I called her to save me. "You know it's your sister's coming-of-age celebration today, and you're cursing her? Kidnapped, are you? Fine, the kidnappers can kill you for all I care." She assumed it was a prank call. So, she refused to go to the police station and do her job. I wasn't saved in time and was tortured to death. When the DNA report came out, she came to the scene all wobbly. She drew a portrait of me with my bones as reference, her hand trembling all the way. "Jessica? It can't be her. This is a mistake!" She tried again and again. Yet, it didn't matter how many times she redid it as the portrait showed my face. My mother, who had hated me my whole life, teared up.
Lihat lebih banyakI wasn't too surprised. Yvonne was always the one she loved. However, my mother came into my room and locked herself inside when night fell. She was holding my portrait, caressing it with trembling fingers."I'm sorry, Jessica. I'm sorry. You must've been in a lot of pain. We failed you. I failed you. Wait for us. Your sister and I will go to you. You'll get the apology you deserve."She pulled open a drawer and took out a bottle of pills. She'd been having nightmares over the last few days, and they always woke her up. Eventually, she got herself some sleeping pills at the hospital.I watched her crushing a whole bottle of pills and dissolving the powder in water. The next day, she made a whole feast of Yvonne's favorite foods. Every single one of them was laced with sleeping liquid.Yvonne started feeling sleepy after the meal. So, she staggered back to her room and slept. My mother opened the door of Yvonne's room and took out her phone. She then locked the gate and shut all the
My mother woke up early the next day and went to the market. She was a frequent seafood buyer. The moment she showed up, the owner eagerly tried to sell their goods. They said they had big, fresh prawns."Why don't you get some, Melanie? I bet your daughter would love them."My mother said dazedly, "My daughter doesn't like prawns. She's allergic to seafood."The owner was stunned. "What? But I thought Eve loved prawns." My mother said nothing and went to the vegetable kiosk. She strolled around, picked up a carrot, and put it down. She did the same to the bell peppers. Odd.Even the owner found her behavior weird. So, they inquired, "What kind of cooking do you have in mind? Maybe I can give some recommendations?"I saw my mother standing in her spot, trying to think of something, but nothing came to her. Oh, right. She had no idea what my favorite food was. I never had the privilege of ordering the food I wanted, nor was I a picky eater like her.I had no freedom to choose. I
This again. This was one of the tactics Yvonne loved to use on me. She'd 'accidentally' bring up the fact that I could live well even without them to my mother. She'd tell her how I was nice to everyone but them, that I was always distant when it came to them.That was how she deepened the conflict between my mother and me. That was how she made my mother hate me more. However, that tactic of hers finally failed. My mother swiveled around and stared into her soul with a gaze so chilly, it could freeze the whole house."Mom…" The moment she said that, my mother gave her one tight slap. That stunned her. My mother was holding my therapy records. It had the contents of my conversation with my therapist.'When did you start cutting yourself?''Grade Nine.''And how did these thoughts manifest themselves?''My sister framed me, and my mother didn't believe me. I didn't steal her money. She lied. She said I should've died like my brother did. She said I'm an omen. She said I'm someone
The interrogation was over. Victor requested a meeting with my mother, and she agreed. They met up, he looked at her, and he laughed."Are you crying? Finally? Finally feeling something for the girl?" He clicked his tongue. "It's such a pity. She called out to you right until the very end, you know."He pranced around in a sick imitation of my struggle before my death. "She flailed her arms just like this. 'Mommy, Mommy, save me!' Oh, she cried. Yes, she did. Right, right. You don't know this, but I called your youngest daughter first."He asked, "Know what she said? 'Just kill her. It's not like my mother loves her anyway. She wouldn't cry even if she died.' He cackled. "She's your daughter, alright. Every bit as despicable and heartless as her mother is."Victor cackled, gloating some kind of perverted satisfaction. My mother bent over in agony and spat a mouthful of blood. That only made Victor laugh harder.A long while later, my mother wiped the blood off her lips and said, "
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