After A Trip to Save Lives, Our Family was Hacked

Over the Memorial Day weekend, my dad saved a girl who'd slipped and fallen into the river.

However, once she regained consciousness, she complained of pain in her private areas and falsely accused my dad of molesting her.

Our family was blasted online. Unable to endure the harassment, my mom, overwhelmed, leaped from the 30th floor of our building.

Yet, the girl smirked and remarked, "Fools! All publicity is good publicity. Some folks can't even make a buck while lying down."

Eventually, she became the target of internet backlash.

***

When the principal called me into his office, I was deep in a battle with the final question on my math exam.

He looked at me with mixed emotions, hesitated, and then advised me to be resilient.

Confused, I assumed it was about the recent cyberbullying.

Clapping a hand over my heart, I assured him, "Mr. Lewis, no worries. I'm innocent, and I won't let this scandal affect my SATs."

Only when I found myself in the morgue, seeing my mom lying there stiff as stone, did I grasp the gravity of Mr. Lewis's words.

Dad tried to shield my eyes to spare me the sight of her current state.

But I insisted on saying goodbye one last time.

Gently, I drew back the shroud, and upon seeing her mangled form underneath, my body seized up and tears flooded out.

The devastating impact from the fall had gruesomely distorted her body; her skull was half-crushed, and no part of her was spared the brutality—blood was everywhere.

Never before had I despised the color red as much as I did at that moment.

Just the night before, back at school, Mom was all smiles as she packed my suitcase, stuffing it full.

Yet, less than a day later, she was nothing more than a corpse in this chilled, cramped space.

I should have realized sooner.

As she continued to pack things into my suitcase, I should have picked up on the signs.

Normally gentle and soft-spoken, she had smiled through weeks of relentless cyber attacks.

Something was definitely off.

I blame myself terribly.

Dad, tears streaming down his face, pleaded with the funeral home artist to make her look like herself again.

Mom always loved to look her best; she didn't deserve to leave the world looking like this.