Chapter 5
“I told you I’m not coming back. Stop calling me!”
Hearing that familiar voice, tears immediately poured from my eyes. “Mommy-”
“Mommy, it’s Claire. Mommy…”
I called to her over and over, but there was silence on the other end. Afraid she wouldn’t listen to me, I said everything at once.
“Claire should have stayed put and waited for Mommy. I shouldn’t have disobeyed and chased the butterfly.”
My stomach hurt more and more. The air I breathed out felt scalding, making my head throb.
“Mommy, my stomach hurts. My whole body hurts. My brothers miss you too. Mommy, when are you coming back?” I asked carefully.
I heard soft sobbing on the other end.
“Mommy’s not coming back.”
“Your daddy will take good care of you. Next time, don’t use being sick to trick Mommy, okay?”
“Children who lie won’t be loved.”
Mom’s voice was familiar–she didn’t immediately ignore me.
I hurriedly sat up straight. “I’m not lying.”
“My brothers don’t like me.”
“Daddy even called me a thief.”
“Mommy, I’ve learned to be good. I won’t chase butterflies anymore, and I won’t disobey you. Can you take me with you?”
Mom’s voice suddenly became stern.
“I said I’m not coming back.”
“Tell your dad to stop wasting his time.”
I didn’t understand. “But Mommy, I’m so hungry, My brothers won’t
me
Claire would be like the little hamster–buried in the dirt.”
The voice on the other end became sharp–Mom was angry.
“I said I don’t want you. Call your father!”
“Also, it’s not because you chased the butterfly and were bad that I
Understand?!”
Mommy didn’t want me?
Mommy didn’t want me anymore.
My hand slowly dropped. I didn’t even notice when the screen went dark.
That little bit of light gradually disappeared before my eyes.
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want you. I just don’t want you! I don’t want any of you anymore!
Mom I Became Good, Could You Love Me Now?
40.0%
Chapter 5
It wasn’t because I wasn’t good.
Even if I became good,
Mommy still wouldn’t come back.
They were all liars.
They lied to me.
I screamed and cried, my wails echoing through the basement.
I cried until I had no strength left.
My throat hurt too, and I collapsed on the ground and fell asleep.
My brain was more chaotic than when Mom got angry and smashed the entire bedroom.
h
Sometimes it was my brothers who liked to torment me–they liked blocking me, not letting me pass, liked seeing me scared, liked watching me cry. When I cried, they laughed.
Sometimes it was Mom standing behind me, watching me chase the butterfly with her own eyes as she walked away in the opposite direction.
Sometimes it was Dad slapping me to the ground, his eyes cold and disgusted.
Sometimes it was Mom’s voice, like it was amplified through a speaker, growing louder and louder in my ears.
“It’s not because you’re not good–it’s because we don’t want you anymore, understand?”
I woke up crying from the nightmare.
When I opened my eyes, I was still in the basement.
Everything around me was too dark to see my own hand.
I was too hungry to crawl up.
I reached out trying to grab something, but there was nothing–I couldn’t reach anything.
I guess I really was hated by everyone.
A hated child.
Just like that ugly, dark little hamster.
Bullied by the other hamsters in the cage.
Finally having to hide in a corner.
Waiting for its body to go stiff, then for the teacher to dig a hole and bury it.
Something in my small chest was jumping, like it wanted to leap out of my body.
The tiny light in the basement gradually slipped away from my eyes.
This time, I finally didn’t feel hurt anymore…
16:19