My Mother Called Me a Liar

Under the blazing sun, the temperature kept climbing.

Students around campus gradually stopped lingering outside and hurried back to their dorms.

The smell of decay slowly began to seep from my body, drawing over several stray cats that roamed the school grounds.

I lay there completely helpless, unable to run, unable to call for help.

All I could do was watch as they tore at my flesh with their teeth.

It hurt so much.

My soul desperately drifted toward my mother's office, only to find her happily chatting with Sharon.

Sharon flipped through my mother's notebook with wide-eyed amazement, her face full of envy.

"Wow, Mrs. Cole, are these all the nutritional meals you made for Briana?

"Every dish has instructions and health benefits written down. You must've been keeping this notebook for years."

The moment I saw the notebook in her hands, my eyes stung.

My mother had started writing in it the day I was born. She always said that as long as she followed the recipes inside, I would grow up healthy and strong.

Mother stared at the thick notebook, her gaze briefly turning distant.

Looking at those yellowed pages, she seemed to sink into old memories.

After a long pause, she sighed softly and gently rubbed Sharon's hair.

"If only she were even half as sensible as you."

Just then, the dean hurried into the office.

"Mrs. Cole, isn't your daughter still lying outside? It's over 90 degrees Fahrenheit out there. I heard your daughter's in poor health. If she gets heatstroke, it'll be a real problem."

Mother's hand paused briefly on Sharon's head before she replied indifferently, "She's incredibly spoiled. There's no way she'd actually let herself suffer in the sun."

"Sir, I know my own daughter. She's just throwing a tantrum on purpose. The more attention I give her, the more dramatic she gets. Once she gets tired of lying there, she'll get up herself."

The dean shook his head helplessly, sighed, and left the office.

A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

For a brief moment, Mother visibly relaxed. But when she saw the students who entered, disappointment flickered across her face.

I knew it.

She was waiting for me.

However, she would never see me again.

The students had come to collect their scholarship certificates and competition awards.

Mother smiled as she took the certificates out of the drawer, encouraging them to keep working hard in the future.

The students exchanged uneasy glances, guilt flashing through their eyes.

"Mrs. Cole, we should actually be thanking Briana."

"She gave these opportunities to us."

The smile on Mother's face froze instantly.

The air itself seemed to solidify.

Watching her suddenly stiffen, I let out a bitter laugh.

She had always believed that avoiding favoritism meant being fair. But now everyone knew the truth.

Those honors had belonged to me.

I was the one who gave them up.

And she had become the mother who stole her own daughter's achievements, all to preserve her image of fairness.

Mother's expression darkened, her voice filled with disdain.

"You don't need to thank her. She never deserved first place in the first place. She secretly went through my computer before the competition. That's how she won.

"You're the ones who truly earned those awards."

The students looked awkward and quickly took their certificates before hurrying out of the office.

It felt like someone had driven a knife straight through my heart.

Then the office door knocked again.

Sharon immediately looked pleased with herself.

"Mrs. Cole, it must be Briana coming to apologize to you."

Mother cleared her throat, carrying herself with the confidence of a victor.

"Wasn't she acting all stubborn lying on the ground earlier? Now she finally knows to admit she was wrong?

"Briana, if you really know you were wrong, then tomorrow you'll apologize publicly to Sharon in front of the entire school. After that, write an essay on self-criticism about pretending to be dead and damaging the group's reputation, then post it on the bulletin board.

"Otherwise, don't call me your mother anymore."

The knocking continued.

This time it was faster, more urgent.

Annoyed, Mother stood up and yanked the door open.

The moment she saw who was outside, her entire body froze.

Two police officers in uniform stood at the door, their expressions grave.

"Are you Briana's mother?"

Mother paused briefly, irritation flashing across her eyes.

"I am. What is she causing trouble over now? Is she still lying on the ground refusing to get up? Did someone call the police?"

The lead officer did not answer her question.

He simply looked at her heavily and said, "Please accept our condolences. Briana Hayes has passed away."