One Cent a Day: My Mom's Anti‑Degenerate Plan

After returning to our room that night, I felt my lower abdomen cramping slightly. A sliver of panic coursed through me as I rushed toward the bathroom.

As I thought, my period had arrived.

Why had it come so early this time? Due to my years of malnutrition, my periods had always been rather irregular, and I would always be in so much pain that I couldn't even get out of bed. Hence, those few days I was on my period were always like hell for me.

The cramps grew increasingly worse, and it wasn't long before the pain spread to my stomach.

I hurried toward my bed and reached under the pillow for the box of painkillers I had hidden under it.

It was empty.

The only reason I had this box of painkillers was because, back before I left for college, our neighbor suggested to Mom that she should prepare some emergency medicine for me.

Thus, Mom brought me to a pharmacy and had the pharmacist pick out a random assortment of medicine for common ailments, of which included this box of painkillers.

Just as despair welled in me, I suddenly recalled how Wendy's mother had been so concerned about Wendy.

I sent Mom a message, "Mom, my period is here, and it hurts so bad. I've already finished my painkillers, but I don't have enough money to buy more. Could you lend me some?"

Even though I was in agony, I couldn't help holding a tiny seed of hope.

It wasn't long before Mom replied to my message, "Sweetheart, are you in a lot of pain? I'm so sorry to hear that. I'm sure this is because you've been disobedient and haven't been eating properly. Otherwise, why would you be having cramps?"

I had no idea how to refute her words. Every day, I was only able to earn roughly ten dollars or so by checking in with her. However, after deducting ten dollars for my monthly phone bill and the other living expenses, I only had enough left to eat oatmeal or dinner rolls each day.

At that moment, Mom called me. When I accepted the call, her gentle voice flowed over the line, "Sweetheart, I'm very mad that you refused to listen to me. I know you're feeling quite anxious right now.

She paused, then said, "How about this? Send me a written pledge with 999 lines saying that you'll always listen to me. If you do that, I'll help you."

Despite the despair that welled in me, I had no choice but to grit my teeth and start writing.

Sweat beaded my forehead from the severe cramping, and my head pounded like a drum. My stomach was roiling like a stormy sea, and even the light from my phone screen made me want to vomit.

Black spots began dancing across my vision, but Mom was still waiting on the other end of the line.

100 times.

200.

Finally, 999 times.

By that point, I was suffering so much that neither lying down nor sitting could ease my discomfort. I thought I was about to die. I prayed desperately that I could finally buy some painkillers to get through this hell.

At last, Mom said it was enough and transferred some money to me, the notification from my phone pinging shrilly.

I hastily checked the transaction.

50 cents.

It felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. For a moment, I couldn't tell if my body or my heart hurt more.

Mom's gentle voice reached my ears. "After some thought, I've decided that it's enough if you just buy one tablet from your roommate. If you buy a whole box, you won't be able to finish it in one go, and that would be wasteful. I don't want you to develop such a bad habit."

I couldn't stop myself from thinking maliciously about her as I snarked in my mind, "I bet you're doing this just so you can think up more ways to make things difficult for me the next time I'm on my period, isn't it?"

In the end, Wendy noticed me tossing and turning, seemingly in great discomfort, and asked if I was alright. Upon hearing my answer, she hurriedly grabbed a painkiller and poured a glass of water for me.

I hadn't hung up yet, so Mom heard everything. She thanked Wendy through the phone before bidding me good night.

Before the call ended, I thought I heard Mom muttering, "How troublesome."

I shut my eyes, feeling numb inside, yet tears still soaked the hair at my temples.

…

I finally realized that Mom probably didn't truly love me.

She was always telling me, "I love it when you share your day with me. That way, not only can you earn your allowance, but I get to feel your love for me too."

Hence, I was constantly racking my brain for things to report to her, not just to earn my allowance, but also so she could be happy.

However, my severe menstrual cramps had drained me both physically and mentally for the past few days.