From that day on, every kid in kindergarten had someone waiting to pick them up. I was the only one who always went to and from school alone, no matter if it rained or shone.
Wiping my tears, I picked up the certificate of recognition and went back to my room.
At six in the evening, I walked into the dining room for our usual dinner. The moment they saw me, the cheerful mood at the table turned cold.
Mom shot me a cold look and my grandparents didn’t even glance my way. Dad gave me an apologetic look but quickly turned his eyes away.
I forced a small smile.
Dad, who was only a son-in-law, had married into Mom’s family and I understood how hard that was for him.
When I reached the table, just as I expected, there was no bowl or utensils for me. So I served myself and sat down alone, at the farthest spot from everyone.
For years, no one ever called me to dinner, afraid it would upset Mom. I could only go to the dining room alone at dinner time and eat under everyone’s cold eyes.
In high school, I often stayed late for extra classes and evening study sessions.
In our family, keeping leftovers wasn’t a habit; every bit of food that remained was thrown away. No one, not even Dad, ever saved anything for me.
During my three years of high school, I almost never had dinner.
Skipping so many meals, along with the constant tension at the table, had already ruined my stomach.
Still, I kept showing up at dinner time every day, because if I hadn’t, I would’ve starved long ago.
Everyone at the table acted like I didn’t exist. I didn’t even dare lift my spoon and fork, scared that Mom would get angry again.
Just as Mom got up to pour herself some water, Dad quietly placed a few vegetables into my bowl.
When I looked up, he gave me a quick wink, as if telling me to eat more.
But before I could move, the bowl in front of me disappeared.
A moment later, the rice and vegetable leaves, mixed with oil, were dumped all over my head. A single green leaf hung from my forehead. Imagine how foolish I must have looked.
Mom’s screams and shouts exploded in my ears. "Kevin! Why did you give food to that bitch? Are you trying to kill me?"
"You’ve been fooled by her! Do you want me dead to make you happy?"
"If you don't want me to have a good life, then neither will you!"
In an instant, Mom flipped the dining table, sending plates and bowls crashing to the floor. The broken pieces of porcelain and food hurt my eyes.
Dad rushed to stop her. "Oh, honey, what’s wrong with you?"
"Okay, okay, I was wrong, I was wrong. Don’t be mad. I won’t do it again."
Dad’s surrender finally eased her anger a little. However, that anger didn’t fade; it just turned toward me.
Mom turned and looked at me, slapping me hard across the face. "You little bitch! You come home and start flirting with your dad already? Trying to take him from me?"
"I should’ve never given birth to you! You’re nothing but bad luck! I can’t stand the sight of you!"
Mom looked straight at me and it felt like she wanted to tear me apart. It was the same all over again.
Whenever Dad showed me even the smallest bit of care, Mom would lash out with anger and accusations.
During my first final exams in first grade, I scored 100 on both tests.
Excited, I ran home with both papers, holding mine with a perfect high score above my head.
That day, Dad was so happy he even made my favorite cola chicken wings for dinner.
At dinner that night, the cola chicken wings didn’t even reach my mouth before they landed on my head. It was the same scene as tonight.
"Hazel! You’re only seven and you’re already this disgusting!"
"You're trying to seduce your dad into cooking for you and you don’t even see how full of yourself you are!"
Since then, I never drank cola or ate chicken wings again.
While I was thinking about it, Grandpa Vale looked at me with disgust. “What are you standing there for? Go to your room! Can’t you see your mom is already angry because of you?”
“You really have no heart. You just came home and already made your mom this upset.”
I stayed quiet, pulled the vegetable leaves hanging from my hair and walked toward my room.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Grandma Anna leaning on Grandpa’s shoulder, covering her face. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let our dear daughter have a child. How could she give birth to such a monster?”
“Look what you’ve done to our precious daughter.”
Tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t. I should have let my mother give birth to me.
When I got to bed, I couldn’t stay standing anymore. My legs gave out and I fell to the floor.
A quiet sob slipped out. I didn’t know how long it took.
In the darkness, I heard Dad’s quiet, careful voice and Mom’s loud, angry scream. “Kevin! What do you mean? Your daughter is more important to you now, isn’t she?”
Dad spoke in a low voice, but the quiet night carried every word to my ears. “What are you saying? You’re my wife. Of course, you’re the most important. But Hazel is still young; she’s our daughter. Don’t be so….”
Before he could finish, Mom’s scream interrupted him. “Ahhh! Was it that brat who seduced you?”
“Okay, okay, I get it! I get it!”
"I'll go ask her right now, what exactly does it take for her to let me go!"
Moments later, my door burst open and the room lights came on all at once.
Before I could get used to the brightness, slaps and punches rained down on me. Mom’s screams echoed through the room.
“Why are you doing this to me, Hazel? What did I ever do to you?”
“I should have strangled you when you were born! No! I shouldn't have given birth to you!"
“I gave you life! Now go die!”
The pain from her slap hadn’t even gone away before her punches and kicks came again.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I stood up and pushed her back. “Enough!”
"How have you wronged me? From childhood to adulthood, what have you ever done to deserve my respect?”
“If you never wanted me, why did you give birth to me? Did I ask to be born?”
“Why do I have to keep suffering like this?”
I ignored the tears falling down my face and let out all the pain I had held in for years. My grandparents rushed into the room after hearing the noise and heard my words.
Grandma quickly held Mom up and looked at me like I was something dirty. "Hazel! Do you have any conscience at all?”
“If it weren’t for you, your mother wouldn’t have gotten depression after giving birth! Eighteen years, eighteen whole years!”
“Do you know what your mother has been through all these years? How could you say such things to her?”
Those same words again. Because of me, because she suffered postpartum depression.
So ever since I was a child, everyone in my family tried not to upset Mom. They always told me to give in to her no matter what.
As her daughter, I wanted to and would give Mom her happiness. I tried hard enough, so many times, so why do they still treat me like this?
Why? My questioning made Mom stop. But Grandma’s words only made Mom even angrier.
Mom broke free from Dad and Grandma, ran toward me and pushed me hard.
I was caught off guard and fell to the floor. Behind me was my bag, the one with the box cutter I always carried.
The sharp blade cut into my lower back. I couldn’t move.
Still not satisfied, Mom kicked me again and again. Each kick drove the blade deeper.
I wanted to beg Mom to stop, but the heavy feeling of being unable to breathe kept me from saying a word.
Maybe seeing my face grow paler stopped me from saying a word.
Dad suddenly shouted, "Enough! Enough!"
Mom stopped and looked at him in shock.
"You're protecting her? You're really protecting her? Fine! Then I’ll die! I’ll make space for you two!”
The next moment, before anyone could move, Mom ran out of my room and rushed toward the balcony railing at the end of the hallway.
A loud bang rang out and the world fell silent as everyone froze in shock.
Grandma was the first to move, crying out in pain, "My precious daughter!"
She was the first to run out of the room, with Dad and Grandpa right behind her.
No one even looked at me, still lying on the floor. I just listened to the screams and frantic voices from downstairs.
"Wife, wife!"
"Daughter, daughter!"
"Don’t be afraid, don’t be scared. Dad will take you to the hospital."
Soon, the noise faded and silence filled the house again.
I quietly watched the pool of blood beneath me spread wider, feeling the strength in my body slowly fade away.
Mom, this time, you got what you wanted. I would never disturb your life again.
In the best hospital ward in Brookdale, Mom’s ankle was wrapped in thick bandages.
After I stopped breathing, I realized my soul couldn’t leave Mom and Dad’s side. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t go anywhere. In the end, I gave up. It turned out that even in death, I wasn’t free.
Dad was peeling an apple for Mom. “You’re already an adult, yet you still act like a child.”
“Good thing our house only has two floors. You just sprained your ankle.”
“If something really happened to you, how would I live?”
Mom pouted, looking like a spoiled little girl. “Hmm, you’re the one who protected her.”
Grandma leaned against Grandpa, still holding her chest in fear. “You’re my only precious daughter. If anything had really happened to you, I’d die.”
“You even hurt yourself because of that useless girl.”
“You’re my life. Don’t ever do like that again.”
