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Mom Im Not Your Trophy
NovelShort
Hoàn thành
When school let out, my eighteen-year-old sister Sarah whispered the news to Mom, her face burning with shame. She thought she might have started her period. Mom's eyes went wide. Incredulous. Then he...
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第1章
When school let out, my eighteen-year-old sister Sarah whispered the news to Mom, her face burning with shame. She thought she might have started her period.
Mom's eyes went wide. Incredulous. Then her voice climbed to a shriek that cut through the afternoon air.
"How is that possible? Didn't I make you take progesterone to delay it?"
"You're about to take the college entrance exam! If this thing comes now, won't it ruin your study schedule again?"
Heads turned. Classmates passing by slowed their steps, casting sidelong glances, whispering behind cupped hands.
Mom didn't notice. Or didn't care. Right there—in full view of everyone—she reached out, intending to check for herself.
"Are you lying to me? You just want an excuse to slack off, don't you?"
Sarah clutched her waistband and backed away, step by step, her face draining to chalk white as she became the center of the growing crowd's attention.
My sister. The perennial Model Student. She'd slipped to second place this year.
That was her crime.
Back home, the violence escalated. Mom smashed a teapot against Sarah's head.
Terror seized me. I bolted out the door, screaming into the empty street. "Mom is going to kill her! Help!"
——
Later, Mom found a password-protected notebook in Sarah's drawer.
She tried a few combinations. Nothing worked. Frustration twisted her mouth as she muttered to herself, "Depression at such a young age? Fine. I want to see exactly *why* she's so depressed."
She grabbed a flathead screwdriver.
Panic shot through me. I rushed forward. "Mom, don't! That's Sarah's privacy. If you break her most treasured possession, she'll hate you!"
Mom shoved me aside like I weighed nothing.
"Privacy?" She snorted. "I gave birth to her. I raised her. What could she possibly have that she can't tell me?" The screwdriver bit into the lock's seam. "If she won't talk, I'll look for myself."
*Click.*
The lock snapped. Mom flipped open the diary.
*Monday the 20th, Sunny*
*I met a stray toy poodle by the roadside today. It's so cute. It's a pity Mom won't let me keep a dog.*
*But my only friend, Savannah Finch, took it home. Her mom named the little poodle Whirlwind.*
*Holding it, making a warm bed for it, taking it to the vet when it was sick—Savannah's mom is so kind!*
*Wednesday the 21st, Sunny*
*I ate the last chicken drumstick at dinner. Mom beat me for two hours. She said I don't know how to yield to others.*
*It hurts so much, but Mom said I was faking it. I wanted to go to the hospital, but she refused. I wish I could become the little toy poodle at Savannah's house.*
Two pages.
Mom read two pages, and her hands began to shake.
"Not wanting to be a human, but wanting to be a dog?" Her voice climbed, trembling with rage. "I think she's just tired of having a good life!"
*Thwack!*
The notebook hit the bed.
"What depression? She just loves comparing herself to others!"
Mom snatched the medicine bottles from Sarah's desk, twisted off the caps, and marched to the bathroom. One by one, she dumped every pill into the toilet bowl. Then she flushed.
I grabbed her arm. Desperate. "Mom! The doctor said if Sarah doesn't take that medicine, she might die!"
Mom didn't even blink.
"The doctor is just fear-mongering to make money. How old is your sister? How could she possibly die?" She scoffed. "This isn't an illness; it's entitlement. Things don't go her way, so she threatens me with suicide. It's all an act!"
She dragged me toward the door.
"Come on. We're going to the school gate to pick her up. I want to see this dog Savannah's mother is raising." Her grip tightened on my wrist. "I don't believe it—can a beast really live better than a person?"
Mom yanked me along like a kite caught in a gale. I had no choice but to stumble after her.
Sarah attended the city's most prestigious high school. When we arrived, the gate was swarming with parents.
Mom spotted Savannah Finch's mother immediately.
She was holding a small toy poodle.
Mom marched over. Her voice came out abrupt. Commanding. "My daughter really likes your dog. She even said she wants to *be* it. Sell the dog to me."
Savannah's mother blinked, taken aback. "This... I don't know..."
第2章
Mom threw out the bait.
"My daughter is first in her grade. She can tutor your daughter for free."
Savannah's mother bit her lip, weighing the offer. A long pause. Then she nodded. "Okay. Since Sarah likes it so much, I'll give it to her."
Mom took the leash. A cold, calculating glint flickered in her eyes—the look of a scheme snapping into place.
Just then, Sarah and Savannah walked out through the school gates.
Sarah hurried over, her face lifting with rare, unguarded joy. "Mom? You're finally allowing me to keep a dog?"
Mom's lips curled.
Right in front of Sarah, she lifted the little toy poodle high into the air—
And slammed it onto the concrete.
*Thud.*
The dog's skull cracked against pavement with a wet, sickening sound. A miserable yelp. Then nothing but twitching.
"Ah!"
Sarah's scream tore through the air. Her hands flew to her mouth. Beside her, Savannah burst into loud, wailing sobs.
Mom looked satisfied. Relieved. As if a heavy burden had finally been lifted. She pointed a shaking finger at the dying animal.
"You are in your senior year! You need to focus on your studies! Don't let these cats and dogs drain your energy." Her voice boomed across the crowd. "They are stumbling blocks on your road to success. They will only drag your grades down!"
Savannah's mother rushed forward, face deathly pale, covering her daughter's eyes with trembling hands.
"How could you do that? Is your daughter's mental health worth less to you than her grades?"
Mom lifted her chin. Looked down at the woman with utter contempt.
"Do you know why Savannah's grades are trash? It's because she has a mother who indulges her every whim!"
"You—" Savannah's mother choked on her own fury. She grabbed Savannah's arm and pulled her away. "Let's go. Don't ever play with that family again."
Sarah watched her only friend being dragged off, tears spilling over. She looked ready to shatter.
But Mom stood there, chest puffed out like a victorious rooster, and launched into a mocking, singsong lecture.
"I told you long ago not to mix with the bottom of the barrel. You are going to Tsinghua or Peking University. These people aren't worthy of breathing the same air as you."
Her volume drew a crowd. Parents and students formed a loose circle around us.
Tears streaked Sarah's cheeks. "Mom, will you only be satisfied when I have no friends left in the world?"
*Slap!*
Mom's palm cracked across Sarah's face.
"Stop acting precious! Did I tell you not to make friends? I said make friends with people who study well and come from good families!" Her voice rose higher. "You lack the ability to make high-quality connections, and you dare blame me?"
She leaned in close. Her voice dropped to a venomous hiss. "Didn't the doctor say you have depression? But I saw you smiling just now. I think you're faking it—pretending to be sick to force me to give in. Not a chance!"
I tugged at Mom's sleeve, trying to whisper, "Mom, please, everyone is watching..."
She didn't even acknowledge me. She grabbed Sarah's arm and shook her. "Liar!"
Sarah shook her head desperately. The movement made the school uniform jacket she'd tied around her waist slip loose and fall to the ground.
"I didn't lie! I'm not a liar!"
A student in the crowd pointed. "Look at her pants!"
Sarah froze. Realization hit her, and she panicked, dropping into a squat to snatch the jacket back and cover herself.
But Mom was faster.
"Stop!" Mom barked. "What is that on your pants?"
Sarah clutched the jacket to her backside, eyes darting around the crowd, humiliation flooding her face.
Mom's voice turned shrill. Piercing. "I said stop! Let me see what that is!"
She shoved Sarah forward like a criminal caught red-handed.
第3章
Cornered, Sarah had no choice. Her voice came out in a trembling whisper. "I got my period... it stained my pants..."
Before she could finish, Mom exploded.
"How is that possible!" The shriek echoed off the school walls. "Didn't I make you take the progesterone? You're taking the entrance exam soon—if this comes now, you'll ruin everything!"
She squatted down. Reached for Sarah. In front of dozens of classmates and parents, she tried to physically inspect her daughter.
"Let me see! Are you lying to me? You want to use this as an excuse to skip studying again, right?"
Sarah dodged, shoving Mom's hands away, her face twisted in mortification. "I didn't... Mom, stop..."
Then a boy broke through the crowd.
He rushed forward and pulled Sarah behind him, shielding her with his own body.
He looked Mom dead in the eye. "Mrs. James, you can't treat Sarah like this!"
Elliot Simmons.
Mom studied the boy standing between her and her daughter. Something shifted in her expression—a look of twisted realization.
She straightened slowly. "Oh. No wonder."
A cold, harsh laugh escaped her throat. "I was wondering why the medicine didn't work. So it turns out it was *that* kind of delay!"
Sarah's face flushed crimson. She lunged forward to cover Mom's mouth. "Mom! Stop!"
Elliot went bright red. "Sarah and I are just classmates!"
Mom sneered. "Classmates? She has plenty of classmates. Why are *you* the only one standing up for her?"
She stepped closer, invading his space. "Are you harboring dirty intentions toward my daughter? Tell the truth—did you get her pregnant?"
"Of course not! I—" Elliot's chest heaved. "I just can't stand seeing you abuse her!"
"Bullshit!" Mom spat. "We've all been young. You think you can hide those filthy thoughts from me?"
The whispers started.
"See? I told you. Sarah looks like a model student, but she's a liar."
"They say a mother knows her daughter best. If her mom says it, it must be true."
"Is Sarah really dating Elliot Simmons?"
"Isn't Sarah's family poor? Why would a rich kid like Elliot want her?"
"Oh, you don't get it. There's a saying: 'If it's free and delivered to your door, why say no?'"
Something snapped behind Mom's eyes.
She lunged forward and grabbed Elliot by the collar.
*Slap! Slap!*
Two strikes across his face. "Tell me! What did you do to my daughter?"
Sarah threw herself at Mom, sobbing. "Mom! Elliot and I have nothing going on! Let him go!"
Handprints blazed across Elliot's cheeks. His eyes watered from the sting, from the humiliation. "Mrs. James, let go of me or I'm calling the police!"
His phone appeared in his hand.
Only then did Mom release him. But she wasn't finished. Her finger jabbed toward his nose.
"I'm taking my daughter to get checked by a doctor. If there is anything wrong with her body, I will send you to prison!"
Snickers rippled through the crowd. Students pointed. Whispered. Sarah looked at them—her peers, her tormentors.
Her dignity lay shattered on the concrete beside the dead dog.
She grabbed her backpack from the ground and ran. Head down. Fleeing.
Mom watched her go without rushing.
"Run. Go ahead and run," she called after her. "You can run, but you can't hide. When we get home, I'll deal with you properly."
---
I didn't want to go home.
Fear coiled tight in my stomach. Mom was terrifying.
In front of outsiders, she wore a mask of sanity. But once the door closed behind us, she became something else entirely.
...
"Come out!"
Sarah had locked her bedroom door. But Mom wasn't in a hurry.
She stood outside the wood, calm and patient, a heavy ruler gripped in her hand.
Waiting for the inevitable.
第4章
I imagined my sister inside, already curled into a trembling ball.
Mom didn't hesitate. She snatched the spare key and jammed it into the lock. The door slammed open with a deafening *bang*, and she stormed in.
"Why did you lose two points in math?"
"How could you be so careless?"
"Is your head filled with boys? Are you too busy flirting to study?"
Sarah curled up on her bed, shaking her head frantically. "No, Mom, no... it was just a mistake..."
"I don't want your excuses! Hands out. Now!"
Sarah trembled as she extended her arms.
*Crack.*
The ruler sliced through the air and struck Sarah's palm with sickening force.
I flinched at the sound, rushing forward to grab Mom's pant leg. "Mom, stop! Don't hit Sarah! It hurts her..."
Mom didn't even look down. Her foot caught me in the waist. I flew back and landed hard on my bottom.
My lip quivered. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I opened my mouth and wailed.
Mom whipped around, her eyes bulging. "If you want to cry, get out and do it! Get out!"
I slapped my hands over my mouth, choking back the sobs. I didn't dare make another sound.
She turned back to Sarah. Her expression shifted instantly—from rage to something terrifying. Desperate sincerity.
"Do you know that you are my only hope?"
"You have to get into a top university. You *must*. When that happens, I'll dress up, and we'll march right in front of your father and slap him in the face with your success!"
"Only when your father sees how brilliant we are will he regret leaving. That's the only way he'll come back!"
Mom and Dad were divorced. Mom said a "filthy homewrecker" had seduced him. She claimed that if Sarah and I were perfect—if we were undeniable—Dad would eventually return.
"No dinner tonight." Mom tossed the ruler onto the desk. "Do another set of practice problems."
After the beating came the orders.
It wasn't until Mom went to the kitchen to start cooking that I dared to sneak into the room.
Sarah wasn't at her desk.
She sat on the edge of the bed, still as a statue. A wooden puppet with its strings cut.
Tear tracks had dried on her cheeks, but her expression was terrifyingly calm.
The calm of despair.
Her left hand hung by her side, the palm swollen and angry red, puffed up like rising dough. But it was her right wrist that made my breath hitch.
A jagged crimson line cutting across her skin.
*Drip. Drip.*
Bright red blood fell onto the floorboards, vivid and shocking against the wood.
"Sarah..."
I rushed forward, panic rising in my chest.
Sarah moved instantly, covering my mouth with her good hand and pressing a finger to her lips.
"Shh. Don't tell Mom, okay?"
"I was just... very sad." Her voice was hollow. "I needed relief."
I stared at her through wet lashes, half-understanding, half-terrified.
She let go of me and reached under her pillow, pulling out a small iron box.
"Wait until I fall asleep." She pressed it into my hands. "You have to remember to give this box to the police."
"What's inside?" I asked, confused.
Sarah opened the lid. Inside lay a voice recorder. She pressed play.
Mom's violence filled the air—the screaming, the hitting, the insults from years of abuse. Even the incident at the school gate, recorded clearly.
"I begged Dad for this on my birthday three years ago," Sarah said softly. "You have to keep it safe."
"And... if the police ask how I died, you must tell them Mom forced me to do it. Do you understand?"
I nodded, clutching the cold metal box.
My gaze drifted to the bedpost of Sarah's bunk bed. A tiny red light blinked there. I reached out and poked it.
"Sarah, what is this?"
Sarah turned to look.
All the color drained from her face.
A camera.
Mom had been watching.
The realization hit us both at the same moment.
*Crash.*
The door was kicked open again. Mom stood in the doorway, a kitchen knife gripped tightly in her hand.
"Good." Her voice trembled with fury. "I gave birth to you, raised you, and this is how you repay me? You join forces with that traitorous father of yours to destroy me?"
"You want to die? Fine. Let's all die together!"