My mom hates me. If it wasn’t for me, my mom and dad wouldn’t have divorced. After she remarried, she was kinder to her stepdaughter than to me. She let her stepdaughter bully me at school, let her carve scars on my back with a knife, and ignored the bloodstains on my clothes. In the end, she even let her take pleasure in setting me on fire. But mom, do you remember how you cried when others bullied me and wanted to stand up for me? Mom, what can I do to make up for my sins and ease your hatred? I got home at nine on Friday night after school. In the large villa, only the living room had any sound. Mom was holding Fiona, watching TV. Both of them were smiling, looking warm and harmonious. I stared at them greedily, unable to remember the warmth of my mom’s embrace. Maybe I stood there too long, so mom turned her head and glanced at me with disgust. I clutched my backpack strap and gathered the courage to speak: “Mom, don’t you want to ask why I’m back so late?” She continued watching TV, ignoring me. My throat tightened, but I stubbornly tried to talk to her even though it felt self-destructive. “Fiona didn’t wait for me after school, she told the driver to leave, and I didn’t have money, so I walked home. It’s 25 kilometers, and my feet hurt.” “Mom, I’m also very hungry. You forgot to give me money last week. I borrowed from classmates to get by. Could you not forget next time…” “Slap!” Before I could finish, mom slapped me. My cheek stung with pain. Dizzy, I nearly fell, and the pain in my stomach sharpened. I was too hungry and too tired. Embarrassed to borrow too much, I had only eaten one meal a day for a week, going to bed hungry every night, my stomach in knots. I looked up through blurred, tear-filled eyes at my mom’s beautiful face. “Adeline, are you blaming me or Fiona?” I bit my lip, not answering. Maybe I did resent Fiona, but I didn’t dare to blame mom. I had no right. Mom seemed to see what I was thinking. She looked down at me. “You have no right to blame me or Fiona. Your food, clothing, shelter, and tuition are all paid by her dad, my husband.” “Even your biological father didn’t want you, and I was willing to take you in. Fiona’s family accepted you, and you should learn to be grateful.” Fiona consoled her with a smile, “Alright, mom, don’t be angry.” She turned to me and apologized perfunctorily, “Adeline, I forgot to wait for you after school. I’ll remember next time.” “Didn’t you say you’re hungry? Go to the kitchen and eat.” I silently put down my backpack and went to the kitchen. As expected, there was nothing but leftovers. Fiona and mom had already eaten, and the rule for the housekeeper in Fiona’s family was to only buy fresh ingredients for the day, even for fruits and eggs. The fridge was empty except for a few bottles of cold water. I took one, downed half of it. Luckily, today’s trash bag was relatively clean, so I ate some leftover food from it. If I wake up early tomorrow, I can catch a freshly made, hot breakfast. It’s okay, it’s okay, Adeline. I silently cried while washing my hands, returned to the living room, and picked up my backpack. “Mom, I’m going upstairs.” Mom didn’t spare me a glance.
After returning to my room, I did some homework. Fiona pushed the door open and came in. Alone with her, I instinctively felt fear and shrank back. “What do you want?” Fiona smiled and slapped me, then nodded in satisfaction. “Hmm, now it matches the slap your mom gave you.” “Adeline, you’re getting bold, complaining about me to your mom right in front of me. Do you think she’ll care about you?” She took a lighter from her pocket, gripping my arm, dragging out her words slowly. “She’d be happier if you suffered.” “Ah!” The flame from the lighter burned into the inside of my arm, leaving scars of varying sizes. Fiona moved the lighter with interest, as if she were leisurely eating barbecue. “Don’t move. Otherwise, you’ll suffer more, and your mom won’t be happy if she finds out.” I screamed, crying with tears streaming down my face: “Mom, mom, save me…” I heard mom’s footsteps coming upstairs. I saw her standing outside the door. I met her eyes and begged her. “Mom, save me.” She looked away, passed my room, and went back to her own room. I heard the door open and close, smelling the scent of burning flesh. I could only kneel on the ground, begging Fiona to let me go. She kicked me, “Still dare to complain? You’re living in my house. Why can’t you learn to bow your head?” I shook my head desperately, “I won’t complain anymore. I won’t.” She seemed bored, clicking her tongue, “But if you don’t complain, what excuse do I have to bully you?” “Why don’t you keep complaining? It doesn’t matter if you do. Oh, right, you even had the nerve to ask your mom for help. Can’t you understand human language?” Fiona took out a sharp art knife from her pocket, eager to try it out. My face went pale, and I asked her to wait, then took off my uniform. “I have to wear it tomorrow.” She giggled, “Adeline, you’re really something.” As she spoke, her hands didn’t stop, the knife cutting from my shoulder blade down to my waist. I once looked in the mirror and saw my back covered with thin, long red lines. I gritted my teeth to bear the pain. When Fiona was done playing, I was drenched in cold sweat, lying on the floor, breathing heavily. Fiona left the room. I found the medical kit, skillfully applied medicine to myself, then climbed into bed. I felt cold, then hot, tightly wrapping myself in the blanket. Half-asleep, I heard mom’s voice. It was from before she and dad divorced when we were a complete family. Her voice was gentle. “Adeline, Adeline, you’re mommy’s treasure. Mommy loves you so much…”
The next day, I got up late. When I groggily went downstairs, Fiona and mom had already finished breakfast. The maid was about to throw away the leftovers, and I rushed to stop her. “Sorry, leave it for me. I’ll wash the dishes after.” The maid gave me a complicated look that made my face burn with shame, but I had to force a smile. She left the dishes for me, saying before she left, “There’s a boiled egg in the pot that no one ate, you can have it.” I was grateful for this bit of kindness and ate the boiled egg clean. After breakfast, there was still work to do. Mom might forget to give me living expenses next week, so I needed to earn some money myself and pay back my classmates. Yesterday, on my way back, I saw an old lady collecting drink bottles, saying they were fetching a nice price lately. I planned to try collecting some too. I found a plastic bag and went out. Just after rummaging through half a garbage can, it started to rain. The rain stung the wounds on my back, and I had to find shelter under an eave. The door of the villa behind opened, and someone came out. I was about to apologize and find another place to shelter when I recognized a familiar face. “Class president?” Ezra frowned, “Adeline, why are you here?” “I, I live here.” Ezra’s tone was doubtful, “Your house is here?” I kept my head down, unsure how to answer. Technically, I wasn’t part of Fiona’s family, just benefiting from my mom. He saw I didn’t respond and didn’t ask further, placing the trash he was holding at the door. Then he looked up, and his expression changed. “Adeline, what’s wrong with your back?” I hurriedly reached to touch it, finding faint red on my hand, likely from the wound reopening. “It’s nothing, I’m fine…” I said, trying to leave, but I felt dizzy and fell. When I woke up, I was lying in my bedroom, Fiona sitting by my bed. “You have a fever. Ezra brought you back. Adeline, how are you so lucky?” I shivered, in trouble. How could I forget that Fiona liked Ezra? Before, a girl from another class gave Ezra a love letter. Even though he rejected it, Fiona had someone corner the girl in the bathroom to teach her a lesson. Now that Ezra personally brought me back, what would Fiona do? Fiona crossed her arms, expressionless. “Ezra also asked about your back. I said maybe you accidentally hurt it. I don’t know if he believed me—Adeline, are you pretending to be pitiful in front of him, or do you want to expose me to him?” “I didn’t mean that, definitely not.” I tried to explain, to prove my innocence, but Fiona sneered and walked away. She didn’t immediately trouble me, making me even more anxious. Yet I couldn’t worry about that now. I was dizzy from the fever, and there was no fever medicine in the kit. I could only add an extra blanket and sweat it out, also realizing the bag of bottles I collected was gone, making today’s efforts futile, feeling desperate.
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