My Mom's Favorite Son Nearly Killed Me

It's my seventh year of being homeless when Mom and I meet again in a five-star restaurant. To celebrate a certain fake heir's birthday, Mom generously picked up everyone's tab at the restaurant, spending a million dollars. Meanwhile, I'm wearing an ill-fitting clown costume and performing various funny stunts for the guests. After the performance, Mom eyes my winded state and scowls as she snaps, "This is the best you could do after you left without leaving a note all those years ago? You're an embarrassment to the Jacobson family!" I flash her a professional, disingenuous smile. "I'm afraid you've got the wrong person, ma'am. A tip is welcome, though, if you liked my performance." I wish I had the sense to leave my family all those years ago. If I had, I might not have been pushed off a cliff by Darren Jacobson and nearly fallen to my death. Now, I've stopped holding out for what little kinship was left between my family and me. Mom throws the 200-dollar tip meant for me on the floor, then storms off. I pick up the bank notes and run my hand along my cold prosthetic, secretly relieved. Finally, I have enough money for a new prosthetic. Thank goodness. Chapter 1 I said, "Thank you for your generosity, ma'am, and… happy birthday to your son." I picked up the 200 dollars and bolted, ignoring the pain shooting up my leg as I ducked into the staff corridor. Leaning against the wall, I frantically pulled off the red clown nose that threatened to suffocate me. Cold sweat drenched my back as I rolled up my pants and loosened the blackened bandage underneath. The stench of rot and sweat wafted through the air immediately. My leg tapered into a stump, red and swollen from relentless rubbing and pressure, like an overripe peach left to rot. My sock clung to a few abrasions that were oozing yellow fluid, and each tug on the fabric sent white-hot pain through my nerves. I gritted my teeth as tears welled in my eyes, but I dared not whimper or sob. Seven years ago, on Darren Jacobson's birthday, we went hiking as a family. Upon reaching the pinnacle, Darren had turned to me, grinned, and said, "Ethan, look at the view over there! It's amazing." I let my guard down and looked in the direction Darren had pointed, only to hear his malicious murmuring in my ear. "There's only room for one son in the Jacobson family—and that's me." A second later, a forceful shove from the back sent me tumbling off the cliff's edge and into the abyss below. Fortunately, a tree that had grown crooked out of the mountainside caught me, and I survived my fall. However, my left leg had been crushed by falling rocks. Dragging my broken leg, I crawled along the forsaken gully for two whole days and nights before finally arriving at an unregistered clinic at the foot of the mountain. The man in that clinic told me that my leg couldn't be saved, and that I'd die if I didn't amputate it. The procedure was performed without anesthesia, with nothing but a rusty saw and a towel I all but gnawed to pieces to endure the pain. An empty sensation and a bloody, bandaged stump below my left knee greeted me when I woke from the procedure. I tried to reach out to my family and borrowed the phone from the clinic to call Mom, but she'd snapped hysterically at me on the other line. "How dare you call us up and ask for money after shoving Darren off the edge of the cliff and escaping, Ethan! "Do you know that he's still in the hospital? I feel like kicking myself for bringing a vicious child like you back into the family! As far as I'm concerned, you're no son of mine!" "I didn't… Mom, I really didn't…" I weakly argued. "I really did lose my leg. I'm dying…" "Dying?" She snorted. "The wicked tend to live long. Dying or not, do me a favor and don't come back, Ethan!" She mercilessly hung up the phone after that. For the last seven years, I lived like a rat in the gutter. I dared not return to the Jacobson residence for fear that Darren would silence me for good, but more than that, I was afraid of meeting Mom's hateful, disgusted gaze. "Ethan, come out right now!" An angry yell shattered my flashback. My manager, Vincent Parker, scowled as he grabbed me by my collar. "What the hell did you do back at Zone A? Mr. Jacobson complained about your lackluster performance and creepy, unsettling stare! He's our VIP!" I explained anxiously, "I didn't do anything wrong, Mr. Parker! I was working hard on my performance—" "Save your excuses!" Vincent cut me off viciously. "You're fired! Also, given the gravity of the complaint, you are liable to pay damages to our restaurant as per your contract! "We'll offset the damages against the 200-dollar tip you got, and you can forget about your paycheck! Now, get out!" "No!" I lunged at Vincent like a madman, clutching his arm desperately. "My life depends on that 200 dollars, Mr. Parker! Please give it back—" "Get off me! If I hadn't felt sorry for you and taken you in, a cripple like you would never have found work here in our restaurant!" Disgusted, Vincent landed a kick on my leg, his foot finding its mark right over the wound on my stump. Searing pain replaced my strength, seizing me as I collapsed on the ground like a heap of mud. Chapter 2 Vincent crouched before me and patted my dirt-streaked face. "There's going to be a private birthday celebration at the Jacobson residence tomorrow evening, and they're short of a party clown. Mr. Jacobson has requested your services. "If you do well and make him happy, I'll not only overlook this complaint, but also pay you twice the wages we docked from your paycheck and the 200-dollar tip." I shook my head instinctively. "No… I'm not going…" Vincent snorted. "Fine, don't go. But your reputation in the industry will be ruined. I'll leave you to consider your chances of finding a new job after that." Two security guards charged forward, grabbed me under my arms, and dragged me to the back door. They roughly tossed me beside the bags of trash in the back alley. There was a sudden raging downpour, and rainwater soaked through the flimsy fabric of my clown costume. I lay in the muddy water and glanced at my prosthetic leg, the rusty rod inside it exposed through a crack. A hopeless chuckle escaped me as the doctor's warning rang in my ears. "Best get that crude prosthetic leg replaced if you want to live longer! Scrimping on it will only kill you." My tears, mixed with rainwater, trickled into my mouth. I gagged on the bitter taste of them. It didn't matter what job I did for the last seven years, for I'd be fired without reason on the second day of work. I knew that Darren had never wanted me to have it easy, but I swallowed my pride once again for the sake of living. The next evening, I limped into the Jacobson residence in the still-damp clown costume, my body burning with a high fever. "Hey, look! It's the limping clown!" Laughter erupted from the crowd. Mom glanced over her shoulder upon hearing this. A trace of sympathy and astonishment flashed in her eyes when she registered my pathetic state. "Ethan, you've finally come to apologize…" She reached out as if to steady me, but the next second, her hand froze in mid-air when she noticed my pronounced limp. Her gaze turned icy and contemptuous at once. "This act again?" Mom drew her hand back and eyed me frostily. "You played the victim just like this seven years ago, too, and deceived all of us. And what happened next? You shoved Darren off the edge of the cliff! He almost died there! "Why do you despise him so much that you'd go to lengths to kill him? Fortunately, Darren's a plucky one and survived the fall. And thank God we got to see your true colors!" I stopped wanting to explain myself. What was the point when no one would believe that Darren had orchestrated everything that happened all those years ago? When I hung my head and stayed silent, Mom suddenly raised her voice, which was full of hateful anger. "It's been seven years since you left home, Ethan, yet you'd rather stoop beneath your station and serve others than apologize to Darren? "You're my biological son. Were you hoping I'd feel sorry for you if you became this pathetic version of yourself? Stop looking so dispirited before you ruin the mood!" My fingers grazed the cold surface of my prosthetic leg as I said expressionlessly, "If only you'd made the effort to look into the incident years ago, you would have known that I—" At that moment, Darren interjected and cut me off, "Mom, thank you for the birthday present. I love this puppy you got me!" He made his way down the spiral staircase, dressed in a well-tailored white suit. In his arms was a poodle, its fur finely trimmed. Mom whirled to look at Darren, gentle indulgence filling her gaze. "You look so handsome today, sweetheart. I'm glad you like the puppy. It'll keep you company on most days while I'm busy with work." However, when she turned to face me again, her face was etched with impatience. "You'll be on your best behavior tonight and give Darren and his friends a good time, understand? I'll let you come home once you apologize to Darren after the party." With that, she spun on her heels and returned to her bedroom without sparing me so much as a backward glance. Chapter 3 "This is the clown you hired specially for the evening, Darren? Why does he walk like a duck?" the scion beside Darren jested. Darren cast a sidelong glance at me, the corner of his mouth curling into a wicked smirk. "Yes, I hired him to liven up the party. It's hard to find clowns as hardworking as him these days." My head was heavy and spinning from the fever, draining me of any strength to pay any attention to Darren's taunts. All I wanted was for this evening to be over. But Darren seemed to have other plans as he hovered before me, carrying his poodle. "That was a decent performance today, Ethan." He grinned at me, stroking the poodle in his arms. "Looks like you picked up quite an impressive skill set in the years you spent away from home. Even Rollie was dazzled by your performance!" As he spoke, he held up the poodle, Rollie, before my face. "Are you happy with the clown's performance, Rollie?" I instinctively lifted my head, only for my blood to run cold when my gaze landed on the dog's neck. A gleaming lucky amulet was dangling from it. It was the same lucky amulet Mom had given me. Darren had pulled it off my neck when he pushed me off the cliff's edge all those years ago. It was solid proof that he'd pushed me, and not the other way around! I couldn't resist reaching for the amulet just to be sure. "What are you doing, you lunatic?" Darren suddenly yelled, deliberately releasing his grip on the dog's leash. Startled, Rollie began to dart through the crowd, knocking over the champagne tower on one side of the room. The champagne flutes shattered as the tower came crashing down, and golden liquid spilled and splattered everywhere. The room exploded into chaos. My mind went blank, and I scrambled after the dog, my arms and legs moving in sync. Just then, a leather shoe stepped on the back of my hand. A sharp cry escaped me. I looked up to meet Darren's wicked gaze. As he crushed my hand under his foot, he unclasped the limited-edition diamond watch on his wrist and carelessly shoved it into my arms. The next second, he shouted, "How could you steal my watch?" The guests around us swarmed closer. I shook my head vehemently, trying to explain, "No, I didn't… I only wanted to take back my lucky amulet…" "Stop!" someone thundered from the staircase. Mom had heard the commotion downstairs and was scowling as she came down. "Ethan!" She closed the distance between us with a few angry strides, then slapped me without uttering another word. I was already weak to begin with, and the slap made me see stars. I hit the ground, the metal surface of my prosthetic leg striking the floor with a resounding hum. Mom froze at the sound, a vague sense that something was wrong creeping over her, but she was too furious to dwell on it. "You're a lost cause! You didn't come home for seven years, and when you finally do, you decide to steal from one of us? How could you be so unscrupulous?" I lay sprawled on the ground, holding the lucky amulet close. My tears streaked through the colorful face paint as they rolled down my cheeks. "Mom, I didn't steal anything! You gave me this lucky amulet! It's mine! Darren put it on his dog—" "Shut up!" Mom didn't want to listen at all. She didn't even look at the lucky amulet as she snatched up Darren's diamond watch, seething, "Darren can do whatever he likes! It's his dog, and he can put whatever he wants on it! As for you—you're no better than a dog!" Her words stabbed through my heart like a sharp blade, freezing me in place. Darren approached me, menace flashing in his eyes. "What belongs to Mom belongs to the Jacobsons. You're already out of the family, so what right do you have to take our stuff?" With that, he reached for the amulet to snatch it away from me. I guarded it with every bit of strength I had. In our scuffle, Darren landed a kick on my left leg with the tip of his rock-hard leather shoe. It struck me where the prosthetic leg was joined to my stump, the spot that hurt the most. A scream of agony tore from my throat, the searing pain draining every ounce of strength from my body. I released my grip instinctively, and the lucky amulet slid out from the safe cage of my arms. Seeing this, Darren swooped in and crushed the amulet underfoot. He then let out a grunt as he toppled to the ground, gripping his wrist as he winced in pain. "Mom! Ethan pushed me! My wrist hurts…" Mom lost it when she saw her precious youngest son injured. She hurried over to help him up, and when she turned, it was only to kick me as I lay prone on the ground. Her foot struck me right in the sternum. I grunted, a coppery taste bubbling up my throat. "Ethan, you're worse than an animal!" She continued icily, "Alfred! Bring me the agreement!" The next moment, a document titled "Mutual Agreement to Terminate Parent-Child Relationship" was tossed on the ground before me. Chapter 4 "I was going to give you a second chance, but seeing as you're so incorrigible, sign that in front of everyone!" Mom's gaze was sharp and unforgiving. "Sign the papers and get the hell out of the Jacobson residence! "From now on, you'll have nothing to do with our family, whether you live or die. You could go around begging or die in a ditch somewhere for all we care!" Lightning split the sky, followed by the crack of thunder. The sky began to pour again. I stared at the agreement as pain crept into my chest. I'd stopped holding out for Mom's love over the last few years, but why did I still feel as if my heart would shatter? Perhaps I should've died seven years ago. I picked the pen off the ground and signed my name on the agreement. Before leaving, I fetched the misshapen lucky amulet from the floor and leveled a long, hard look at Mom. Her face was contorted with anger, but she was still beautiful, courtesy of her immaculate skincare. "Mom," I called out softly. "This is the last time I'll call you that. I'll get out of your hair for good and never bother you or your family again." Mom froze, probably taken aback by the deep sorrow etched across my face. She fished out 200 dollars and tossed it on the floor. "Here's your pay for today. Take the money and leave!" I limped out of the villa, the sheets of rain obscuring my miserable silhouette. This time, I didn't turn back. From a distance, I heard something like a snort from Mom. "Go ahead, and keep pretending! Let's see how long you can keep up the act! Keep being stubborn, if you're so capable!" … A few days passed. Mom even put out a warning to the entire city—anyone who dared to give me work or take me in was an enemy of the Jacobsons. Even so, she didn't get a phone call from me offering an apology. Mom was annoyed and inexplicably worried. Meanwhile, I was hovering above her, watching her. In truth, I'd died in an alleyway on the night of the thunderstorm. It had been freezing that night, but I passed away peacefully, for I was still gripping the 200 dollars and the misshapen lucky amulet when my eyes closed. I had thought that I could sleep through the night, then replace my prosthetic socket with one that didn't rub my stump raw the next day. When my eyes opened again, my body felt weightless, and my leg had stopped hurting. I hovered in mid-air and watched as the police took my corpse away. It didn't take long for them to determine my identity and cause of death. Almost immediately, I saw the police pull up a contact in my phone labeled "Mom" and call the number. A strange force drew me to the Jacobson residence after that. I saw Mom frown when she glanced at the caller ID and saw my name. I thought, "Were you worried I'd embarrassed you again outside, Mom? You shouldn't be. I'd never embarrass you again, for I'd died outside, just as you wished." She answered the phone call and snapped, "Pretty bold of you to call me, Ethan." The police officer on the other end of the line sighed. "Our condolences to you, ma'am. Your son, Ethan Jacobson, died last night at 8:00 pm. Please come down to the station to claim his body." I saw Mom go still, the hand gripping her phone trembling slightly.