Why Does The Mom Use Mind Control In Mind Control Mom?

The moment I was born, my mother implanted a chip in my brain and began shaping me into her idea of a perfect daughter. She blocked my sense of hunger so I would only have simple meals daily to maintain the "ideal" figure. She erased my ability to feel pain so she could inject me with endless chemicals to keep my skin smooth and flawless. She tampered with my senses, deleting every trace of negative emotion from my mind, all so I could remain eternally innocent. I couldn't tell right from wrong. I didn't know sadness or anger. I only knew how to smile. When the neighbor's dog died, I smiled and was scolded harshly for being heartless. When my classmates bullied me, I smiled and became the class freak. When my grandfather passed away, I smiled again, and my relatives cursed me for being soulless. Eventually, my father couldn't take it anymore. He left us. Mom, however, didn't seem to care. "They don't understand," she told me. "Everything I've done is for your own good. One day, you'll thank me." … On my 18th birthday, she planned a grand live broadcast, ready to show the world her perfect creation. She never knew that the day before her grand broadcast, I had already lost myself completely. By then, I was no longer human. I had become a machine.

When the half-mile sprint test is about to begin, Quiana Sullivan, the class president, and I have applied to be exempted from it. My own mother, who's the homeroom teacher of my class, approves Quiana's application with a smile. But she then throws mine to the floor. "You're having a chest pain, you say? I can't believe you're able to come up with such lies just to avoid the half-mile sprint! I'd have known if you had a heart condition! "Quiana is weak by nature, not to mention she's on her period right now, so she can't handle the agony. What about you, hmm? You've always been perfectly healthy, yet now you're telling me that you're suffering from heart pain? "Don't go around embarrassing me just because you want to slack off! I don't want others claiming that I'm being biased toward my own child! As long as you're still alive and kicking, you must finish the half-mile course no matter what!" Left without a choice, I can only return to the field. The cold wind makes me feel even dizzier now. My heart keeps contracting uncontrollably against my will. Suddenly, it just stops pumping. The next thing I know, I collapse onto the grassy field heavily. When my consciousness is about to flicker to darkness, my mom finally walks over to me. But she merely kicks my arm with a frown on her face, and her tone remains glacial. "Stop playing dead. Get up right now." She doesn't realize that I can never open my eyes ever again. Isn't this great, Mom? No one will ever claim that you're biased toward your own child. I've used my life to prove how fair and just you are. You must be happy now, right?

My mom is one of the world's leading AI scientists. Not long after I'm born, she creates an AI companion sister, Nova, designed just for me. She claims Nova is equipped with the world's most accurate lie-detection system. If I ever lie, Nova can surely detect it. From that day on, Nova becomes the judge of my fate. Whenever she issues an alert and declares that I'm lying, it doesn't matter if I'm telling the truth—the only things waiting for me are a hard slap and a trip to the dark isolation closet. I try to defend myself and fight back, but Mom coldly insists that the AI robot she personally built can never go wrong, which only convinces her that I'm a habitual liar. On Children's Day, Mom does something she's never done before. She takes Nova and me on a trip to the amusement park. Looking up at the towering bungee platform, I clutch my chest and desperately shake my head. But Nova coldly pulls up her analysis report. "Tina's abnormal heart rate is from lying. A full-body scan shows that she's in perfect physical health." Mom's expression immediately darkens. She grabs me by the ear and drags me toward the platform. "How dare you lie again? You must jump today!" The moment weightlessness hits, my heart feels like it's exploded. The pain is so intense that I can barely breathe. As my vision blurs, Mom continues her lecture about my terrible lying habit in a disappointed voice. Bloody tears slip from the corners of my eyes. "This time, I'm really not lying, Mom. I'm dead, and I will never lie again."

My mom, a wealthy philanthropist who donated millions, only allowed me to spend a single dollar on each meal. Even the cheapest dish at school costs two bucks. To survive, I had no choice but to eat my classmate’s leftovers every day. When Mom found out, she didn’t show any sympathy. In fact, she came to school and, in front of all the students, slammed a plate onto my head. “Pathetic little thing! I’m not stopping you from eating, so why are you begging? “The school meals are expensive? Then why don’t you work hard and save up?” Out of anger, I took Mom to court. If I won, she would go to prison for abusing me. If I lost, I would be executed completely. I was confident… Who would’ve thought Mom would win?

My mother spent three hundred million dollars to build a fake ancient city. She tricked my father into going inside by telling him it was a time‑travel experience. Inside, people sold him to an entertainment house. They broke his legs, and he lived as a slave for three years. Three years later, my mother removed her human‑skin mask. She looked down at him as he knelt on the ground and smiled. “Three years ago, you sued for divorce and had people online smear Sean as 'the other man'. You almost drove him to suicide from depression. How did it feel to live as a slave all these years? Did you learn your lesson?” My father pressed his forehead to the ground. His voice sounded flat. “Everything is up to you, madam.” My mother paused, then smiled with satisfaction. I cried and threw myself into my father’s arms. He held me tightly. His tears fell against my neck as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Jayden. Dad has to go. I’ll make sure everything is arranged for you before I leave.”

I was born with an intellectual disability and congenital analgesia, the inability to feel pain. Since I was a child, I had been the human punching bag who took beatings meant for my younger sister. Whenever my sister was caught sneaking snacks, Mom would grab me by the hair and slam my head against the wall. Blood would run down my face from my head, yet I never made a sound. When my sister was caught cheating in an exam, Mom whipped me with a belt the entire afternoon. My skin split and my flesh torn, yet I could still manage a smile. Every time she saw me covered in injuries, my sister would throw her arms around me tightly and cry her eyes out. She would say she was wrong and promise never to misbehave again. Mom would be pleased at that, convinced she had disciplined us well. And so, for sixteen years, I had endured every punishment meant for my sister. Until the latest monthly exam, when my sister dropped a place in the rankings. Mom called her over as usual and, out of habit, she raised her hand toward me. The slap sent the back of my head crashing into the corner of a cabinet, and blood spilled across the floor. Through my fading consciousness, I saw Mom nodding in satisfaction and pulling my sister, who was wailing her heart out, to her feet. “There, there. Stop crying. You’ve had your punishment. Let’s go eat something nice and calm yourself.” Watching their retreating figures, my eyelids grew heavier by the second. It seemed to hurt a little this time. I’d better get well soon… After all, they’d need me again the next time my sister made another mistake.