Mom Im Not Your Trophy

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.