My Misogynistic Mother

A nurse at the hospital happily took me from the obstetrician and announced to my mother, "It's a girl! Her skin is fair and glowing—she'll definitely grow up beautiful!"

When Mom heard her words, her tired expression immediately changed. She suddenly grabbed the young nurse's hair before slapping her a few times.

The entire hallway echoed with Mom's scolding.

"You witch! Did you secretly swap out my son? I ate so much salty food! How could it not be a boy?"

Thankfully, Dad's younger sister, Aunt Grace, reacted quickly. She stopped Mom and called Dad, telling him to come over. The matter was only settled after that.

Because of the phone call, Mom didn't hesitate to show Aunt Grace her displeasure.

When Mom's health eventually improved, Dad took her home to rest. Aunt Grace, still worried, came to see me.

My cries inside the room were so weak they were almost inaudible. Meanwhile, Dad slowly fed Mom the bowl of freshly made chicken broth he was holding.

"Liam, I'm telling you, you will only love me in this life. You can't hold her, and you can't kiss her!"

After a moment, Dad quietly responded, "Yes, dear."

The warm, golden sunlight streamed into the room. However, the scene, which looked warm and harmonious, made Aunt Grace break into a cold sweat.

Speaking of which, Dad did keep his promise. At least, from what I could remember, we never had any physical contact.

Even so, Mom didn't spare me.

When I was seven, I had just returned home after walking three miles when Mom slapped me across the face. The reason? She had found my essay in my composition book titled "My Father".

"You're already learning such filthy things at such a young age! Who taught you this?" Mom shouted, waving the book in my face.

Failing to understand what she meant, I could only desperately search for my dad in the room. But all that awaited me was a beating.

After that day, Mom handled everything related to school. She would even tell my teachers that I didn't have a father.

I would never forget the smug, possessive look on her face as she said such things.

As I grew older, Mom began complaining to the elderly people in our neighborhood. "What terrible luck! My daughter is a shameless woman! The only thing she's learned growing up was seducing men!"

Wherever I went, people gossiped behind my back, but I had gotten used to it.

That was until a family of three moved in next door. They were a kind family. Every time Mom kicked me out, they would take me in. Jenny Davis, the daughter who was a few years older than me, would even share some snacks with me.

To me, the Davises was one of the few rays of hope in my bleak life.

But fate didn't favor me for long.

One day, I was waiting outside the door for Mom to finish playing poker. Jenny saw me standing outside and kindly brought over a chair, chatting with me while we waited for my mom.

As I excitedly chatted with Jenny about school life, I didn't even notice the shadow looming behind me. I was still smiling when I turned and saw Mom walking out.

Seeing my happy expression, she didn't think twice to slap me across the face.