Mom, I Don't Want to Be Your Daughter Anymore

Today was the moving day for Karen and Johnny.

They were relocating to another building in the same complex.

I remember they lived there in my past life too.

Karen had chosen it just to be closer to her son.

If there were any open units in this building, she'd have moved right next door.

I watched the whole ordeal from my door, crunching on an apple.

Karen was sweating it out, hauling boxes in and out.

Meanwhile, Johnny was sprawled on the couch, yelling obscenities at his video game buddies.

Quite the scene.

Back then, I felt sorry for her and thought she was too frail to handle the move. I did all the heavy lifting, and even hurt my back in the process.

I tried to get some sympathy by playing the helpless girl.

"Kids don't have backs. Just rub where you said it hurts and be tough."

Her response was less than sympathetic.

"Your brother helped a lot and didn't complain once. Stop whining."

"Hurry up and finish moving. Clean up the house; your brother's had a long day. I'm taking him out for dinner."

Johnny had barely lifted a few hangers on top of the two boxes I was carrying.

Thinking back, I was a fool, blindly craving any bit of motherly love from Karen.

I never stopped to question whether she really loved me.

It took losing my life to snap out of it.

Thankfully, fate didn't give up on me and gave me a second shot. I must cherish it.

This time, I'm putting myself first.