Mom, Love Me Again

After they finished cleaning up Marlon's things, I noticed Vincent wrapping his arms around Diane. "Marlon's death was an accident. You can't keep blaming Ashley for it. Today is her birthday, her coming-of-age day..."

Before he could finish, Diane cut him off sharply. "You're always defending her! If it weren't for her, Marlon wouldn't have died! She's a walking disaster; anyone who crosses her path is doomed!"

Vincent froze at her words, his expression thoughtful as he stared at Diane, and then he fell silent.

A chill crept into my heart. Is this really how Mom sees me? A disaster?

Maybe she had a point.

I remembered how Vincent used to treat me so kindly.

He would sneak me out for little adventures, and after Diane yelled at me or hit me, he'd buy me medicine for my bruises.

He'd bring me pretty floral dresses to cheer me up and even let me sleep in his study so I wouldn't have to deal with Diane's wrath.

I could get a good night's sleep and avoid dozing off in class, too.

Those moments made me forget Diane's cruelty, at least for a little while.

Before Marlon passed away, Diane hadn't been this harsh. Everything fell apart because of me. I was the reason our once-happy family was now in tatters.

So, maybe calling me a disaster wasn't entirely untrue.

As the day faded into night, Vincent had already gone to bed, but I noticed Diane quietly getting up and heading into my room.

Curiosity piqued, I followed her, my mind racing with questions.

Is she planning to check for any of my things she could toss out?

But then I remembered: all my belongings were already thrown out by her.

She must have cleaned everything up a long time ago.

I watched as Diane reached into the back of my closet and pulled out a small box.

Inside were all my certificates and awards, neatly organized.

I was surprised to find something like this hidden away in my closet—I had no idea it was even there.

Most of the space in my closet was taken up by Marlon's clothes, which I rarely used.

My stuff was always crammed into a couple of battered old suitcases.

After I started middle school, Diane had declared that Marlon's things were taking up too much room, so she moved my stuff into the closet.

I had protested, "If you bought him fewer clothes and toys, wouldn't that solve the problem?"

But my protests earned me nothing but a slap from Diane.

I still remembered Vincent's pained expression as he looked at my face, gently touching my swollen cheek and scolding Diane for being too hard on me.

That was the first time I'd seen Vincent speak sternly to Diane.

Although she was a stay-at-home mom and the household relied solely on Vincent's salary, he had always been so compliant and considerate towards her.

The neighbors often envied Diane for having such a devoted husband.

But the more Vincent doted on me, the harsher Diane became.

Ever since that day she hit me, it was like a switch had flipped.

She was relentless, always scolding or striking me, leaving me with bruises that made me too self-conscious to wear shorts or skirts in the summer.