My Mother, the Forensic Pathologist My mother is a forensic pathologist and a mother of two sons. She resented me because of my father’s death and became even colder after remarrying and giving birth to my brother, mistreating me at every turn. She even went so far as to personally dissect me to conceal evidence of my brother’s crime when he became a murderer. What she didn’t know was that the dead person was me. When it was revealed that the unidentified body was mine, she went mad. I’m dead. My soul floats in mid-air, looking down at my own horrific body. The woman before me right now is my birth mother. She’s a forensic pathologist, swiftly cutting open my body with a scalpel and removing the contents that had been forcibly poured into my stomach. She retches uncontrollably but has no choice but to speed up her work. My face and head have been corroded by sulfuric acid to the point where my features are unrecognizable. My cervical vertebrae are broken – the direct cause of my death. The revolting substances churning in my stomach were forced down my throat by my brother. Bits of flesh remain under my fingernails, torn from his body during my final struggle. I can’t help but recall the phone call my brother made to mom before she arrived. “Mom, where are you? I pushed someone down the stairs…” My brother nervously sought help from mom. After all, he had only been fond of pranks before, never going as far as causing someone’s death. Mom was clearly stunned on the phone. “Ryan, where are you? Don’t move, I’m coming right now!” “Okay, Mom, hurry up, I’m scared!” my brother urged anxiously. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. Mom’s here for everything. We’ll talk when I get there!” Mom rushed to the scene in such a hurry she didn’t even dress properly, wearing only a mask and hat! When she saw the body lying on the ground, she didn’t even bother to ask why my brother had pushed someone down the stairs. She immediately crouched down and started cleaning up the traces my brother had left behind! My spirit in the air was in such pain I could hardly breathe. I always thought that no matter how much mom doted on my brother, she wouldn’t allow him to take a life so carelessly. But I never imagined she would actually come. She even destroyed the evidence of my brother poisoning me with her own hands! I cried out in anguish, running to mom and begging her to stop, telling her how much it hurt! But I was just a spirit, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make her notice me. I passed through her body, feeling her tremble. She was actually helping her son dissect her other son. At this moment, she surely didn’t know that this body she was destroying evidence from, this horrifically mangled corpse, was mine. I watched as mom used the knife to cut open my stomach and clean out the residue in my stomach with water she had brought! She even used the sharp blade to lift my fingernails and clean out the flesh my brother had left behind when I clawed at him. It was heartbreaking…
Mom dug a hole with many tools she could find and carried my body with my brother to dump it in. After filling it with soil, she put on plastic bags and cleaned up all the footprints she and my brother had left behind. Mom’s face was as dark as water. Having just finished dealing with the aftermath, her eyes flickered with a dim and complex light! She gripped my brother’s arm tightly, her voice low and stern: “Remember, not a word about what happened today!” Back home, the air in the living room was heavy. I watched all this from another world’s perspective, my soul floating in the air, powerless to change anything. “Why did you hurt someone?” Mom questioned my brother. My brother turned his head away, his voice choked with tears, “He was just a homeless man! He threatened to hurt our whole family! I… I just wanted to protect you…” Hearing him say this, my heart felt like it was being torn apart by a dull knife. Memories from my life came flooding back: every time I was neglected, every meal I couldn’t eat my fill, every time I was unfairly locked in the dark room… All the pain and despair once again eroded my soul. “You really disappoint me.” Mom said in a flat tone, without much more reproach. These simple words contrasted sharply with her violence towards me. It also made me question her identity, how she had lost the most basic human conscience. To cover up for her son, she personally disposed of the victim’s body. I couldn’t help but recall that ever since Dad passed away, from the time I could remember, Mom never liked me. She often wanted to strangle me on lonely nights. She kept saying Dad died to save me. But just a few years later, she remarried and had my brother. My position in this family became even more precarious, bullied and insulted, beaten by everyone. And my brother was the culprit. All the beatings I took from childhood to adulthood were because of his framing! I was beaten by Mom with a stick until I coughed up blood, then thrown into a dark room to reflect. The little bit of gentleness and understanding I had hoped for on countless nights, shivering in that dark room, now seemed so distant and illusory. Anger and helplessness stirred up the emotions that remained in this world. I rushed forward, trying to attack the brother who had deceived our mother and framed me many times. But when my fist passed through his body, there was no sensation, as if it were passing through air. “Why do you always favor him?!” I screamed at my mother, but the voice only echoed in my own ears. “Why has it always been me who gets hurt, from childhood till now! I’m your child too! Why are you so cruel!” I lived such a miserable life, while my brother grew up like a child bathed in honey. We had the same mother, yet lived completely different lives. Watching Mother gently caress my brother’s warm skin while I couldn’t even seek the most basic justice, an indescribable pain and sense of isolation overflowed from the bottom of my heart. Moonlight fell in patches on the old wooden floor outside, every corner of the house exuding an eerie and cold air. I looked around at this place once called “home”, which had now become a place where no one remembered my existence. Vaguely, I seemed to hear Father say to Mother before he passed away: “Take good care of the children!” But reality was so cruel and ironic. Mom took care of me until she saw me suffer endless torment, and then personally disposed of my corpse. All the grievances and harm I had endured over the years seemed to turn into sharp arrows, unable to be released even after death. I existed in this world like a ghost, both laughable and pitiful.
On a warm afternoon, Mom and my brother sat in the kitchen, laughter floating lightly. “Ryan, you need to exercise well, don’t get too fat, or your body functions will decline!” “It’s fine, Mom. Oh right, I want the latest sneakers, can you buy them for me?” My brother asked Mom casually, as if nothing had happened. He had already taken all the money from me. Now his vanity still wasn’t satisfied. “Of course! How much? Mom will transfer it to you! Is five thousand enough?” My brother flatteringly massaged Mom’s shoulders and legs behind her. “I also want a new phone!” “Okay, as long as you behave and listen well in the future, and don’t make any more mistakes, Mom will fulfill all your wishes!” I suddenly felt this family was disgusting. Perhaps because of Mom’s profession, this family seemed to have no concept of death at all. It didn’t seem to affect them at all. As if my brother had never killed anyone, and Mom had never hidden a corpse for my brother. The two of them were affectionate, mother and son, a very loving scene. I hid in the corner, my lonely soul floating in the air, looking at the mother who doted on her son before me, thinking of everything this mother had done to me, my heart ached to the point where I couldn’t breathe. People die, but have to face all this. My heart felt as if it had been torn apart. Suddenly, the phone ring broke this tranquility. “Hello?” Mom answered the phone, the smile on her face gradually freezing. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we need you to come to the police station immediately.” A serious voice came from the other end of the phone. I watched from the air as she hurriedly put on her coat, a sense of foreboding rising in my heart. Mother was a forensic pathologist, and being urgently summoned in this situation always meant something terrible had happened. After arriving at the police station, Mother was taken directly to the autopsy room. A body lay on the table, already beginning to decompose. When she pulled back the cover, although the face was difficult to recognize, every detail of that body made her heart race. “The body is severely damaged! Who could be so cruel as to completely destroy the face, break the neck! Even the fingernails have been lifted!” As she described the horrific state of the body, her voice grew smaller and smaller. She gradually became familiar with this body, it was the body she had secretly buried underground in the wasteland! “Where did the body come from?” “It was reportedly discovered yesterday by a construction team during excavation.” The officer beside her added. Hearing this, Mom’s hand trembled, “Really…” “What’s wrong?” A colleague asked my mom. She was silent for a moment before responding, “Nothing!” I watched as Mother struggled to control her panic and anxiety. She picked up the scalpel and began to work. However, when the internal organs emitted waves of stench, she finally couldn’t hold back and ran to the corner to vomit. She had been a forensic pathologist for years and seasons, of course she wouldn’t vomit. Why would she vomit and feel sick? It was because that body was the one she had personally cleaned up! She knew too well what this body meant! The air was filled with the most suffocating mixture of death and chemical reagents. I floated helplessly in mid-air, tears blurring my vision, my heart aching as I watched my own cruel death being recreated before my eyes. At this moment, I could only cry silently, my role as an observer making me feel even more acutely the pain and crime hidden behind every action. Mother couldn’t sense my presence, but she would occasionally pause her work and look towards an empty space. As if she were looking at me. The whole process seemed to play out in slow motion: every cut, every drop of blood, every piece of muscle was clearly visible. Every knife that fell felt as if it were really stabbing into my body, painfully. This scene was too cruel and real, but it also reminded me. Even after leaving this world, those unresolved wounds still deeply affected me.
I couldn’t help but recall the moments before my death. My brother had asked me to meet him on the hill behind our house, saying he had something important to tell me. About my birth father! But when I got there, my brother immediately kicked me down. I had always been physically weak, while my brother was as strong as an ox! “Ugh… What’s wrong with you, Ryan! Why did you kick me?” Although I was physically weak, my temper wasn’t particularly good. I wouldn’t speak nicely to him after being inexplicably beaten by my brother. “Jack, how do you have the face to stay in our house? How can you shamelessly live off others! You’re a grown man, how can you be so shameless!” I was used to this kind of insult from him. “What did you want to tell me? You said it was about my dad!” “Do you know how your dad died? He was killed by you! But Mom didn’t tell you everything, your dad…” He trailed off. “What about my dad?” I asked anxiously, concerned about anything related to my father. “Give me all your money, and I’ll tell you!” He brazenly demanded money from me. “I don’t have any money!” He said he had something to tell me, so I was already very wary and had recorded our conversation on my phone. But my brother punched me in the eye, and while I was in pain, he forcefully shoved some unknown substance down my throat. “Ugh… you…” My brother didn’t give me any chance to fight back. He took my phone and saw that I had been recording. He suddenly went crazy, taking out sulfuric acid from somewhere and pouring it on my face. The pain was excruciating, and my mouth was full of blood. I couldn’t speak. I struggled to grab his leg, wanting him to spare me. But what I heard before I died was my brother taking my phone, forcing me to use my fingerprint to unlock it, and transferring all my hard-earned savings and the small inheritance my father had left me. I desperately tried to grab him, but he kicked me off the second floor. As I fell, I felt weightless, and when I hit the ground, my neck broke. I was completely lifeless. And my brother, after transferring all my money, smashed my phone and threw it in the trash. Suddenly, my thoughts were pulled back to reality. The police were still investigating this unclaimed body. Phones rang incessantly in the office, each ring seeming to strike my soul. When Mother returned home in a daze, the sound of my brother playing with the dog came from the yard. She stared at them for a moment before walking over and hugging my brother tightly. “Be careful,” she said softly, with deep fear and worry, holding my brother tightly in her arms. As if saying a final goodbye, she went to the kitchen and started preparing dinner, making my brother’s favorite braised pork. During dinner, the atmosphere was warm and peaceful. Mother suddenly spoke up: “Where’s Jack? I haven’t seen him for days.” “Oh, my brother hasn’t been home for several days.” My brother could sense the sudden change in atmosphere. “Maybe he’s out playing again!” Mother’s face immediately darkened. “What an ungrateful, ill-mannered thing! All he knows is how to spend the family’s money!” She angrily picked up some food for my brother. I watched this scene, listening to my mother’s accusations and resentment towards me, silently crying in the air. I wasn’t a person who cried easily. Life had already been so bitter, but seeing scenes that pierced my heart, even as a man, I couldn’t help but shed tears. Just then, the phone rang again. “Hello, is this Mrs. Peterson?” The tone on the other end was serious. “We’ve learned from the school that your son Jack hasn’t been seen for many days…” “What? Impossible! He’s just out playing, right?” Mother tried to remain calm. “We regret to inform you…” The voice on the phone paused, “There’s reason to believe he may have met with misfortune. We suggest you file a police report!” The unexpected news shattered Mother’s last hope. “No, how could that be possible, he’s just playing around…” she murmured softly, tears beginning to fall. When the authorities contacted her again, saying the deceased might be me and asking her to come to the police station to provide more information, my mom trembled as she answered her cell phone. “Is it… is it really Jack?” Her voice revealed indescribable pain and disbelief!
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