After starting her job, my daughter earned her first significant paycheck. She bought a brand tie for her father and expensive health supplements for her grandparents. Even her aunt, who had married far away, received a gold necklace. I thought I could also get a gift from her, but she snorted, “You are the cause of my childhood pain. Why should I give you something?” My husband, instead of disciplining her, belittled me. “You treated her strictly when she was young. Do you think she will forget what you have done? You expect her to be filial to you, huh?” My daughter took the whole family on a vacation but left me alone at home. One night, due to old wiring in the house, a fire broke out while I was sleeping. I died in the blaze. My family took the compensation money from my death to start a new and pleasant life. But then, I opened my eyes and found myself back when my daughter was in sixth grade of primary school. She was crying and throwing books at me, yelling, “You’re such a control freak! Why are you my mother?” I calmly pulled out an agreement. “I won’t discipline you, but words are cheap. Sign this, and you’ll be free.”
“Why are you so controlling? You won’t let me do anything I want. Why do I have to do things your way? I hate you. Why don’t you just die?” My daughter, Greta Miller, cried while throwing books at me. The corner of a book hit my chest, and the pain made me gasp. My mind cleared instantly, and when I looked around, I found that the decor was eerily familiar. The suffocating sensation from the thick smoke seemed like it had happened just seconds ago, and the pain in my chest reminded me that what I had experienced wasn’t a dream. I picked up a textbook from the floor and saw the words “Grade Six” on the cover. I thought in astonishment, “I’m reborn, back to the time when Greta was in the sixth grade!” My daughter Greta Miller faced the transition from elementary to middle school. If she couldn’t get into a prestigious middle school, her education would lag far behind others. So during this year, I had been closely monitoring her studies and even hired renowned tutors for her, trying everything to ensure she got into the city’s top middle school. However, halfway through the semester, Greta couldn’t take it anymore. When she got home, she threw her backpack on the floor and stormed into her room. I reminded her to put her backpack away properly, and she exploded, hurling those hurtful words at me. She tore the review materials I had printed for her into pieces and threw them in my face. “If you’re so eager to study, why don’t you go study yourself? You always impose your ideas on me. You’ve never even asked me if I want to go to a prestigious middle school! You’re such a control freak. You make me feel suffocated!” Almost every week, Greta would have one of these outbursts. I calmly picked up the scattered textbooks and placed them on her desk. “You told me that you wanted to go to a prestigious middle school.” When Greta learned that the prestigious middle school adopted a university-style education system with no morning study sessions and elective courses, she was determined to get in. Hearing what I said, she gave me a disdainful look, filled with arrogance. “With my grades, getting into a prestigious middle school is a piece of cake. What business do you have meddling in this? My teacher said my scores had already exceeded the admission line. Why are you more anxious than me? If you want to push yourself, go ahead. Just leave me alone.” As Greta spoke, her emotions grew more intense, and her grandmother, Rose Miller, quickly came in to comfort her, “Don’t cry. Your mom is just crazy. With your excellent grades, I believe you’ll get in.” Then, Rose turned to glare at me, clearly annoyed. “You have gone too far. Greta is just a child. Don’t push her too hard.” Greta’s grandfather, Frank Miller, chimed in, “Don’t bring your work stress home. Greta is just a kid. If you drive her into depression, you’ll regret it later.” Listening to their defense of Greta, I couldn’t help but sneer, “I’m pushing her too hard? She only studies for an hour each night and goes to tutoring only half a day on Saturdays. For her enough sleep, I’ve even rescheduled her classes to Saturday afternoons. She’s in sixth grade, and the exam is in three months. At this rate, she won’t get into a prestigious middle school.” Greta didn’t even consider what I said and charged at me, trying to hit me. “You’re crazy. Experts say elementary students need enough rest. Yet you still send me to tutoring. You’re a control freak. You’re the cause of all the pain in my life! I’m not your puppet. Why do you always try to control me? Do you only feel satisfied when I’m a mindless study machine under your command?” Just then, my husband, Phillip Miller, burst into the room, his eyes full of blame. “Blanca Jones, can’t you let her rest a bit more at night? She’s just a kid. If she doesn’t want to study, then let her be. Why are you forcing her? You’re driving this family crazy!” His words were filled with complaints about me. Suddenly, memories of the previous life flooded back. I had tried to explain to Greta the importance of effort, but all I got in return was her misunderstanding and resentment. How ridiculous! My daughter, whom I had raised, blamed me for ruining her childhood. I turned to look at Greta and said calmly, “My previous approach was wrong. Tell me what you want me to do in the future.” Greta, nestled in Phillip’s arms, froze for a moment. Her eyes were full of inquiry as if she was trying to figure out if I was serious or sarcastic. “Are you serious?” I nodded. Seeing my calm reaction, she became emboldened. “I want you to never interfere with my studies. You can’t stop me from doing anything.” Without hesitation, I agreed, “Sure.”
Perhaps my response was too quick, and Greta simply couldn’t believe it. She stared at me with a suspicious look. “You’re lying, right? You promised me like this before, but you went back on your word the next day.” Phillip rolled his eyes at me with a frown and spoke with disappointment and accusation in his voice, “Blanca, I’ve had enough of you. Greta is just a child. You should let her rest more and enjoy the outside world instead of keeping her chained to her study all day. She’s so young and already shows signs of depression!” Rose added fuel to the fire, not caring that she was making the situation worse. “Blanca has issues. If she keeps educating Greta like this, Greta will have problems. She used to be such a nice girl, but now she cries at the drop of a hat. I’m considering taking time off work to take her to a psychologist.” Frank chimed in with a cold snort, “Take her to a psychologist? The one who needs therapy is Blanca! She’s the root of all the current problems. I can’t believe we were so unlucky to have her as our family.” Seeing them united against me, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, “Why are you so worked up? I haven’t even said anything yet.” Rose shielded Greta behind her, glaring at me as if I were an enemy. “I know you. You said you wanted Greta to rest, but then you pushed her to study. You’ve gone back on your word more times than I can count!” I pretended not to hear her and turned to Greta. “Do you have any other requests?” She looked at me, pouting, “I don’t want to go to tutoring classes. It’s the weekend, and I just want to sleep in at home. And you can’t control how long I use my phone. I want to play on it as much as I want.” I agreed without hesitation. A flicker of joy flashed in Greta’s eyes, and she immediately printed out an agreement. “Words are cheap. Sign this, and you can’t change your mind later.” Phillip reminded her to make two copies of the agreement to prevent me from reneging later. I picked up the pen. Rose and Frank stared at me as if they were waiting for me to sign so they could celebrate right away. I quickly signed the agreement. Finally, I would be rid of this ungrateful daughter, and there was a part of me that was almost looking forward to it. When I was pregnant, the doctor warned me about poor sperm quality and recommended bed rest. To keep the child, I quit my job and stayed in bed for half a year until Greta was safely born. But compared to her peers, she was weaker both physically and intellectually. Without my constant effort and support, she wouldn’t have kept up with her classmates. Despite this, she believed she was exceptional thanks to the constant praise from her grandparents. In my previous life, I gave up my career to guide Greta through her studies, hired tutors, and even brought in professionals to create a learning plan for her. Being a stay-at-home mother meant relearning all the knowledge alongside the child. It was tiring, but seeing her grades improve made every late night and early morning worth it. Eventually, under my guidance, Greta got into a top university and landed a job at a famous enterprise after graduation. However, when she earned her first paycheck, she bought gifts for everyone except me. When I asked her why, disappointed, she told me I had no right to expect anything from her. Later, she took the whole family on vacation but left me alone at home. A fire broke out due to old wiring, and I was trapped inside and burned to death. As my soul floated in the air, I saw Greta standing by my charred body, staring blankly. The first thing she said was, “Serves you right. You did this to yourself.” At that moment, I let go of everything. Looking at the agreement, I suppressed my excitement. “I hope you won’t regret this.”
Greta took my words as a final act of defiance. She snorted at me and carefully placed the agreement in her small safe, treating it like a treasure. “I won’t regret this. Without your intervention, I’ll live more freely and happily.” She casually tossed her school uniform aside, jumped onto the bed, grabbed her tablet, and started playing a game. “Come online. I’m going to have a good enough time playing today.” She gave me a smug look as if waiting for me to say something to stop her. She had astigmatism since birth, and by the time she was in second grade, her vision had deteriorated to 400 degrees. To protect her eyesight, I spent thousands of dollars on corrective lenses and strictly regulated her screen time on phones and tablets to prevent further damage to her eyes. But Rose thought I was overreacting. “You think playing on a phone can blind her? Nonsense.” She even gave Greta another phone and deliberately said, “Greta, this is the new phone I bought you a few days ago. Play as much as you want. No one can stop you.” In the past, their behaviors would have infuriated me, but now, I didn’t care at all. What Greta had said spurred me on. I thought, “Instead of pushing her, I should push myself.” In my previous life, I gave up my career to take care of her. I had received job offers from several big companies, but I turned them down to focus on her life and studies. This time, I was going to rewrite my own story. My best friend, Nora Evans, heard that I wanted to find a job, and she was thrilled. “Blanca, you should have done this long ago. Why stay with those ungrateful people and waste your youth?” Even she saw things more clearly than I did. Nora and I made plans to meet for dinner. It wasn’t even eight o’clock when I got a call from Rose. The moment I answered, Rose’s angry voice came through. “Where the hell are you? We’re starving!” I cut into a piece of steak and put it in my mouth. “What does that have to do with me?” Rose instinctively retorted, “How doesn’t it? You used to cook for us!” I shrugged. “You are not disabled. Can’t you cook for yourselves? You said that you came to the city to help me take care of the kid and do household chores. If you can’t, go back to the countryside with Frank.” With that, I hung up and continued discussing my new job with Nora. Fortunately, with my solid qualifications, the company quickly responded, offering me a position with a monthly salary of 12 thousand dollars and weekends off. When I signed the contract, I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. For the first time in a long while, I felt relaxed. In the past, I had always focused on improving Greta’s grades and taking care of my family, but I had only neglected my own well-being. Being with Nora made me realize how fulfilling and vibrant my life could be. After parting ways with Nora and returning home, I found the house in a mess. Phillip sat on the sofa with a straight face. Seeing me come in, he shot me a cold look.
“I thought you had died somewhere,” Phillip muttered angrily. I didn’t bother to argue with him. I had to prepare for my new job starting tomorrow. Seeing that I wasn’t responding, he lost his temper instantly. “Blanca, look at what you’ve done! The house is a mess. I work hard to support this family so you can take care of things at home. But you can’t even do that well. What good are you?” His words were accusatory, belittling me as if I were nothing. “Greta has been playing on her phone since she got home from school. Her eyes will be damaged. And she hasn’t written a single word of her homework! How does she expect to get into a prestigious middle school?” Phillip threw a blank worksheet at me, visibly agitated. Watching him panting and fuming, I couldn’t help but laugh. Phillip’s face turned even colder. “What are you laughing at?” “I thought you didn’t know! Huh, you do realize that staring at a phone hurts her eyes, and not doing homework will affect her grades?” I sneered. Phillip frowned, clearly not expecting such a direct rebuttal. He awkwardly scratched his nose. “Don’t give me that nonsense. You can’t just let Greta behave like this. You’re her mother. Don’t you feel guilty watching her fall apart? She means the world to you. You’ve vented your anger. Now it’s time to take responsibility.” With that, he plopped back onto the sofa, picked up his phone, and started scrolling through short videos, as if his words were an order to me. I pulled out the agreement I had signed in the afternoon. “I’ve signed the agreement, and I intend to keep my word. Shouldn’t we set a good example for our daughter? Besides, if you care so much about her, why don’t you step in and manage her education?” In my previous life, Phillip had always played the good cop to take all the credit when it came to disciplining Greta and left me to be the bad guy. Phillip snorted, “I’m exhausted from working every day. Can’t you handle things at home and educate her well?” I slapped my job application in front of him. “Sorry, but I’ve gotten a job now.” And the salary was higher than Phillip’s. Phillip was stunned, reading the application three times before accepting the reality that I had found a job. But he still wasn’t ready to give up. “Why do you need to go out and work? Don’t I earn enough to support the family?” He had gotten some nerve to say that! He only gave me 2,000 dollars a month for living expenses, which included utilities, food, and even medical bills for his parents. It was already a blessing that I didn’t have to subsidize him every month. I turned to question Phillip, “Would you be willing to stay home if I gave you 2,000 dollars a month?”
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