Muse or Monster: My Mother's Broken Obsession

Mom was extra furious that day. The rod came down much harder than it used to be. Unable to hold it in, I howled.

Mom only got angrier. "What are you screaming for? I can no longer dance after giving birth to you, so your dad got himself a mistress! And you're a good-for-nothing, too! I can't believe you only got second place… How could you have gotten second place? You want everyone to point fingers at me, don't you? In your dreams!"

She shoved me into the walk-in freezer that was being organized earlier.

She said, "Come out only when you've reflected on your actions."

I had hurt my leg when I rolled down the stairs just now, so I couldn't find my balance.

My body leaned forward beyond my control, crashing toward a pile of stuff on the floor. My forehead incidentally hit a sharp corner, and blood instantly gushed out.

I weakly crawled toward the door, calling for help in a faint voice, "Mom, help. Save me…"

I had done everything I could, but since Dad was present that day, he would never allow me to place first.

Mom was cursing angrily outside the walk-in freezer and couldn't hear my cries for help. "Marianne, your father is a liar, and you're no better!"

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

A look of joy appeared on Mom's face as she turned around and headed toward the main entrance. "Henry! It must be Henry. He came back for me!"

Mom was instantly overcome with emotion, and she took off running.

"Mom, save me…" I gasped.

She paused in her footsteps. Turning her head, she glanced at the door of the walk-in freezer.

The doorbell rang again, even more urgently this time.

Mom said, "It's okay, Henry. I'm coming. I'll be right there!"

The freezer was barely 60 feet from the main entrance, but Mom was in such a hurry that she tripped and fell twice.

Before opening the door, she nervously fixed her hair. Then, she cut her finger just to have some blood to tint her lips with.

The door opened.

"Henry…" Mom called out.

But it was just a delivery guy with a cake.

Mom's expression immediately turned foul, and she screamed and hurled insults at the poor delivery guy.

Fuming, Mom came back in with the cake in her hands. She was so mad that she pounded on the door. "Marianne, what did you get a cake for? You only got second place, so what's there to celebrate? I used to be the winner of the World Dance Championship. You're nowhere near my level!"

I remained lying in the puddle of blood. I was extremely weak, but still I explained softly, "That's not it, Mom. It's your birthday."

Sadly, Mom couldn't hear me.

My faint cries were drowned out by Mom's complaints.