Ever since I decide to repeat my senior year due to me not doing well in my SATs, Mom views me as the biggest pain in her ass.

After all, I have the potential to get into a prestigious university, and yet my grades are only good enough for me to land a spot in a regular university. To her, it's extremely humiliating.

Mom often looks at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"Natalie Jones, after your father cheated on me, I raised you all by myself. If you don't succeed in life, you're basically forcing me to die."

She did what she said.

If I don't get a perfect score in Math, Mom won't hesitate to jump into a river.

If I don't emerge as the top student of the year, she will slit her wrist.

I'm worried that Mom might commit more outrageous antics, so I explain to her tentatively, "The truth is, I'm sick…"

Without even bothering to look at me, Mom continues speaking to me coldly.

"You'd rather curse yourself than study.

"I've enrolled you into a prep academy so that you can learn how to be a perfect daughter, not the filthy liar you're being right now."

I can only clutch the report that states I have late-stage brain cancer in my hand.

Later on, I use the remaining seven days in my life on attending the course that will apparently teach me how to become Mom's perfect daughter.

My mom, Donna Moore, kept ranting. "I hit a nerve, huh? That's why you've got nothing to say now. You're just like your cheating father. Full of lies! He already walked out on you. I'm the only one still willing to put up with you!"

My parents divorced when I was five.

Kids at school used to say I had a father who only existed on paper. The moment Mom heard about it, she cut her business trip short and rushed to the school to stand up for me.

To be fair, she hadn't treated me badly. But the people closest to us always knew where to strike to make it hurt.

I stayed silent and followed Mom to my prep academy. She took a back road, but we still ran into someone she knew.

"Donna! What a coincidence, running into you here!" the woman exclaimed. "How've Natalie's grades been lately? My daughter keeps talking about how great Fairhaven University is. Natalie should work hard and get in as well. Wouldn't want all that effort from her extra year of studying to go to waste."

A flicker of envy crossed Mom's eyes. "If she were even half as accomplished as Emily, I'd be happy."

"Ms. Moore, you're so successful. Your daughter's bound to turn out great, too. Don't put yourself down just to compliment me," Emily said with a bright smile.

At last, a smile spread across Mom's face. She opened her purse, counted 200 dollars, and handed the money to Emily.

"Take it. You're grown up now. Keep some money on you."

I stood there, stunned.

Mom had always believed in strict discipline. 200 dollars was enough to last me two months, and even then, I only got it if I came first in my grade.

Now, she was handing it to someone else like it meant nothing.

After a bit of a push and pull, Emily finally accepted the money. "Don't worry, Ms. Moore. Once I make something of myself, I'll never forget you."

Her words clearly pleased Mom. Beaming, Mom nodded again and again.

But the second they left, her expression darkened. "Natalie Jones! Your grades don't measure up to hers, and your manners are no better! You see someone, and you can't even say hello?"

"I didn't know who she was. You never introduced her to me…" I explained quietly.

"Now you're talking back to me?" Her shrill voice made my ears ring. "I carried you for nine months and gave birth to you just for this?"

I didn't know what else to say, so I just stared off into the distance.

I thought staying silent might buy me a little peace. Instead, it only made Mom angrier. She yanked at my clothes until I was forced to look at her.

"Oh, so now you're throwing a fit too? How dare you give me attitude? Who do you think you're glaring at like that?"

No matter what I did, it was always wrong.

At that moment, a sharp throbbing spread from my temples through the rest of my body, and my knees nearly gave out.

I braced myself against the trunk of a nearby tree, frowning instinctively. My condition was getting worse by the day.

But to Mom, everything I did looked like an act of defiance.

"Don't give me that look, Natalie. I raised you, and now you act like I'm your worst enemy?"

Despite how hysterical Mom was being, I still tried one last time to explain. "Mom, I'm not. My head really—"

Before I could finish, she cut me off, muttering to herself, "I knew sending you to the prep academy was the right choice. You really do need to learn how to be a perfect daughter."

Even at this point, she still didn't believe I was sick.

I should've realized it long ago. It had never mattered to her whether I was sick or not. All she wanted was a perfect daughter who made her look good.

The doctor's words from the day of my diagnosis came back to me, and I let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

"This is hereditary. Didn't your family make sure you got yearly checkups? How did you wait until it was this advanced to get treatment?"

Grandma had died from a brain tumor. Mom had been diagnosed with one five years earlier too, but hers had been caught early enough to save her life.

Unfortunately, I wasn't as lucky as she was.

After taking me to the prep academy, Mom looked at me with such intense expectation that I could barely breathe.

"Don't disappoint me again."

I flipped through the academy's textbooks and schedules. It felt less like a guide to becoming the perfect daughter and more like a blueprint for building the perfect product.

Five minutes later, I took the placement test and scored a zero.

With a grim expression, the instructor, Madeline Turner, called me into her office.

Meanwhile, Mom's face hardened with disappointment. "Natalie, you're hopeless. I've never seen a child so ungrateful in my life."

She jabbed a finger at the red X's scrawled across my test paper as she spoke. "I raised you for 18 years, and now you want to go to a university over a thousand miles away? Is this how you repay me after everything I've done for you?

"And your goal is just getting into Fairhaven University with a 1450 score? Have you forgotten what I expected from you? You were supposed to be the state's top scholar!"

She tore the test paper into pieces, then slammed a fresh copy down on the desk. "Do it again now."

My face gave nothing away as I wrote down the answers Mom wanted to see.

Ever since I'd found out I was sick, I'd read countless books about acceptance, trying to make peace with both myself and Mom.

I told myself Mom just needed to lose herself before she could find her way back. But she never seemed to reach the end of that road.

Finally, Mom looked at the perfect score and smiled. "That's more like it. Now, go back to class."

…

On the third day, Mom suddenly appeared behind me during break. She was smiling, looking nothing like her usual demanding self.

"Nat, Ms. Turner said you've been doing well lately. Want to take a trip overseas and clear your head?"

I could barely contain my excitement. I didn't know why Mom suddenly had a change of heart, but I wanted to go somewhere with her. I didn't want to have any regrets at the end.

The thought alone made my eyes sting with tears.

"I'd love to, Mom. When are we leaving?"

Without missing a beat, her expression darkened. "Natalie, it seems you still haven't learned how to be a perfect daughter."

I stared at her, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you know what other kids are doing right now? They're all in cram school, trying to get ahead. But all you think about is having fun. I honestly don't know if I can count on you for anything."

Mom went on, "Sometimes I wonder what I did wrong to end up with an ex-husband like your father and a daughter like you."

She raked her fingers through her hair, acting as though I'd committed some unforgivable sin.

Tears slid down my face. This was how it had always been. Every reward had only been a test.

Back in elementary school, Mom had promised to take me to an amusement park if I came in first in my class. But when I showed her my report card and begged her to take me, she slapped me.

"Natalie Jones! Is that why you study? Just so you can get rewarded for it?"

The blow left me stunned. Clutching my cheek, I retreated to my room.

Later, Mom did take me to the amusement park, but my heart wasn't in it.

She spent the entire day criticizing me. "You get upset if I don't bring you. But now that we're here, you act miserable. I swear, this family has done nothing but make my life harder!"

After that day, I never let myself hope for rewards again.

"All you ever do is cry and pout whenever things don't go your way! No wonder nobody wants to be around you!"

The past blurred together with the criticism ringing in my ears.

Just then, another violent pain exploded in my head. I grabbed a chair, doubled over, and started vomiting uncontrollably.

When I looked up, I met Mom's icy gaze.

"Are you done with your act? Then get back to class. I can check on your progress anytime."

I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly. "Why won't you believe that I'm sick? I—"

As usual, she cut me off mid-sentence. "Natalie Jones! Keep saying things like that, and I swear I'm done with you!"

For a brief second, I thought I saw tears glistening in Mom's eyes.

I shook my head hard. It had to be my imagination. How could she possibly cry for me, a daughter who never lived up to her expectations?

As I watched her figure disappear into the distance, I silently counted how many days I had left.

I only had four days left to live.

I forced myself to my feet, but my vision went black, and I crumpled to the floor.

When I came to, Mom was sitting beside my bed, watching me. Just like always, her first words were a reprimand.

"Natalie, can't you take care of yourself? I've told you over and over to eat properly instead of constantly trying to lose weight, but you never listen. Now, you've fainted from not eating. Is this what you wanted?"

I wanted to tell her I wasn't starving myself to lose weight. The pain had gotten so bad that I couldn't eat.

When I didn't respond, Mom let out a sigh and quietly began feeding me spoonfuls of chicken noodle soup.

I recognized the taste. She had made it herself.

I never knew how to describe our relationship. It felt like a soaking wet coat in the dead of winter. Wearing it left me cold, but taking it off didn't make it any better.

I managed to finish half the bowl of chicken noodle soup before Mom spoke up again.

"How about I take you out tomorrow? Think of it as a chance to relax."

But I didn't dare to say yes again. I simply shook my head and replied, "No. I still have a lot left to study for my prep courses."

Mom nodded, her face unreadable. Then, she said, "Good. At least you're improving. Usually, all you care about is going out and having fun.

"Tomorrow, I'm taking you to meet some friends. Their kids are retaking senior year, too, but none of them are doing as well as you. So, make sure you present yourself properly."

Her answer didn't surprise me. To her, I was just a trophy to parade in front of other people.

…

The next day, everyone sat together around the dinner table. Before I'd even finished chewing, Mom turned to me. "Nat, who wrote 'The Courtyard After Rain'?"

I froze for a beat before answering, "Ezra Thorne."

"And what was the final line of the poem?"

I was already a high school senior, yet she still treated me like a little kid, quizzing me in front of everyone.

Still, I pulled a notebook and pen from my bag and carefully wrote the line down.

The people around us immediately began complimenting me. "Just look at Natalie. She comes out to dinner with her notebooks. Meanwhile, my kid only cares about having a good time."

Despite her words, that lady was smiling when she looked at her own child.

"Natalie's going places, Donna. You'll have nothing left to worry about once she makes it," someone else said.

Mom kept nodding in response. As she looked at me, a hint of pride flickered in her eyes.

…

After everyone left, I wanted to ask Mom to take a walk by the river with me. I'd done well tonight, after all. Maybe that meant I could ask for something in return.

But the look she gave me made the words die in my throat.

"Do you know what you did wrong tonight?" Mom questioned.

I went over every moment from the evening and still couldn't figure out what I'd done to upset her.

She sat back down and slammed her hand on the table, so hard that it shook the room.

"Everyone else's kids got up and performed something, and you sat there like a statue! You're far too quiet and reserved. How are you supposed to make it in the real world acting like that? I'm calling Ms. Turner tomorrow and signing you up for extra coaching."

Mom's words blurred into a buzz in my head.

She was the one who told me that ladies should be poised and never draw attention to themselves. But now, she was criticizing me for being too quiet and reserved.

By the end, all I could see was her mouth moving. I couldn't hear a single word anymore.

My vision blurred until I finally closed my eyes against the pain. I couldn't bring myself to face the fact that I was about to die.

Even then, I still hoped Mom would notice something was wrong. I wished she'd realize I was truly sick, then apologize and tell me she'd misunderstood me.

But she didn't. She only looked down at me and snapped, "Really, Natalie? The same act again? Couldn't you come up with something new for once?"

At that moment, I gave up completely. I understood that I would never receive the love I'd been longing for.

After recovering a little, I looked up at Mom. "Would you be happy if I died?"