My own mother sent me to a correctional academy, telling me it was to cure me of “love addiction,” just like you’d cure someone of internet addiction. But how could she have known that place was hell on earth, tormenting me until I was practically dead? Finally, Thanksgiving break arrived, and I could go home. Yet, my mother pushed me into the path of a car, almost killing me. And my mother, she sobbed inconsolably by my bedside… The night I left the correctional academy, my mom came to pick me up. Thanksgiving was coming, and I was finally being released from that living hell. She pulled up in her car, waving at me from beneath the shade of the trees. To escape that nightmare, even though I was terrified of my mother—the very person who’d sent me there—I gritted my teeth, enduring the agonizing throbs from the steel needles still embedded deep within my body, and got into the car. Soon, we were home. My stepfather was already waiting at the door. “Willow’s back! Come on, sweetheart, dinner’s ready. You must’ve had a tough time in there, you look so thin.” His hand reached out to take mine, but I flinched back. I was terrified of touching men. I couldn’t even look at my stepfather, who had always been so good to me, the man I once depended on. Because, In the academy, any unauthorized contact with a male was a grave sin. I only remembered that one time, I just glanced at the delivery guy at the gate. The staff dragged me into a special punishment room. They shocked my body repeatedly with an electric device, asking, “Will you still dare to peek at men?” until I was so shocked I lost control of my bladder. Only then did they let me go. From then on, I learned to walk with my head down. My mom took the groceries out of the car and looked at me. “What did you learn in that bootcamp for months? You’re so slow now. What, blaming me for stopping your early romance? I’m doing this for your own good, understand? Come on, get inside, quickly.” She rattled on, juggling bags of groceries. I didn’t dare say a word. The ‘training camp’ my mother believed was preventing early romance and boosting my studies had only taught me obedience. In that hell, disobedience meant immense suffering. How could my sweet mother have known that my timidness, my fear, was forged through needle jabs, iron brands, knife cuts, and club beatings? I kept my head down, trying to avoid my stepfather, and slipped into the house. In my bedroom, I changed into dark clothes. Bright colors made me feel disoriented; in the academy, we were only allowed to wear black uniforms—yes, we called them prison uniforms. We were prisoners. My mom called me for dinner. The table was laden with food, including my favorite pot roast. The old me would have dug in with gusto. But now… I couldn’t eat. I took a few tiny bites, and my stomach churned, a wave of nausea washing over me. My mother, who had been smiling just moments before, watched her expression slowly darken. “What’s wrong? Is my cooking that bad? Or are you still thinking about Alex, blaming me for breaking you two up? If you don’t want to eat, then don’t.” She snatched my bowl away, fuming. “Day in, day out, you can’t focus on your studies, always chasing after boys. If it weren’t for that early romance, would your grades be such a mess? Now you’re back, and you’re throwing a fit at the dinner table. Looks like that training camp didn’t teach you enough. **After the holiday, you’re going straight back there and staying until you’ve learned your lesson.**” Back? That word hit a raw nerve! I’d rather eat until I puked than go back to that hell! It was a hundred, a thousand times worse than eating and throwing up! No, I couldn’t go back. I had to eat! “I’ll eat, I’ll eat! Mom’s cooking is delicious! I don’t want to go back!” I snatched the bowl back from my mom and shoved rice into my mouth. Less than two seconds later, I vomited all over the table. I’d forgotten. My stomach had already been largely removed. The staff at the academy punished me by force-feeding me sewage; my stomach was already in ruins, and they secretly operated on me so my parents wouldn’t find out!
The table was covered in filth. I scooped up the food and forced myself to swallow more. After only a couple of mouthfuls, my abdomen twisted with excruciating pain. I collapsed weakly onto the floor, clutching my stomach as if a pile driver was mercilessly pounding it. I writhed in agony. My stepfather looked worried. “Willow, what’s wrong? Are you sick? Quick, let’s go to the hospital.” My mom glanced at me, a flicker of remorse in her eyes. My stepfather held her hand, trying to reason with her. “Did she eat something bad at the academy? Maybe we should call them and ask.” Call them? I hadn’t forgotten the Director’s warning. “If you dare to say the wrong thing, you know the punishment, don’t you?” Her words were a nightmare, twisting tightly around my brain. I trembled all over, my limbs twitching with anxiety. The Director would surely punish me double if she found out! The call went through. My mom, trying to sound reasonable, asked the Director. “Counselor, did Willow eat something bad at the academy? Why is she in so much pain she’s writhing on the floor?” The phone was on speaker. The Director replied with feigned righteousness, “Willow’s mother, that’s unfair to us! The academy cafeteria is perfectly fine!” “It’s just…” The Director hesitated. My mom, sensing something, quickly responded, “Counselor, please speak openly. We’ll make sure to discipline her!” Then, the Director spun a believable lie. “We’ve seen boys from outside the school bringing her food a few times! We’ve already disciplined her severely!” My mom hung up. My stepfather tried to interject, but my mom shoved him away. Her fingers trembled with rage. “Hospital? Why bother? Still flirting in there? She deserves to hurt!” “Mom, I didn’t! The Director is lying!” I cried, ignoring the pain, and hugged my mom’s leg, explaining frantically through tears. My mom slowly knelt down. Disappointment flickered in her eyes. She slapped me. “Willow Grace, if you haven’t broken up with that Alex boy, don’t even think about coming back to school. Go straight back to the correctional academy for another six months!” My cheek burned from the slap. I begged, terrified, amidst the vomit. “Mom, I really didn’t! Please don’t send me back!” That place truly wasn’t fit for humans. The staff would beat you at the slightest provocation. Getting a full meal was even harder. Sometimes, I’d be so weak from hunger that I’d deliberately provoke the staff to get locked in solitary, just for a mouthful of sewage to fill my stomach! And during my time in that ‘rehabilitation,’ I had come to loathe men from the bottom of my heart. How could I accept a boy bringing me food? I couldn’t even look at one glance without being plunged back into the nightmare of punishment. I couldn’t forget! How could my mom know what I went through in there? She simply believed the Director’s story, unwilling to listen to my explanations. The hatred and resentment seared through me! I wanted so badly to confess everything to her, even to fight back. But the scars all over my body reminded me: I couldn’t disobey my parents or the staff. So, all I could do was kowtow again and again, admitting fault. “Mom, I won’t do it again! Please don’t send me back!” My head hit the tiled floor, leaving dark bloodstains. My mom stayed angry for a while longer, then finally spat out, “If I ever catch you having an early romance again, I’ll disown you and send you back!” My forehead was covered in blood. My mom finally softened and helped me up. Her eyes were red, brimming with tears. I knew she must have remembered something. The reason she reacted so strongly to “early romance” was because she herself got pregnant with me from an early romance, and my biological father abandoned us! Given my mom’s temporary forgiveness, I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, a mix of relief and despair. God knows how pathetic it was that I was innocent, she didn’t believe me, and I had suffered so much, only to gain her sympathy through my misery!
Soon, the drama ended. I dared not tell my mom about the tearing pain in my stomach, enduring it in silence. Days passed uneventfully. My mom was pleased with my habit of staying in my room, diligently working on my assignments. She even suggested I go back to school in a couple of days. To celebrate, she enthusiastically dragged me out to make me a delicious meal. Of course, I didn’t dare object. In truth, I didn’t want to go out at all. I was terrified of seeing men in public. At the supermarket, my mom carefully picked out my favorite ingredients, while I silently followed her, keeping my head down, a silent shadow, just nodding along to keep her happy and satisfied. After we paid, she suddenly remembered we were out of soy sauce. She told me to wait by the supermarket entrance, so I stood in a corner, head bowed, waiting for her. Just then, someone tapped my shoulder from behind. I instinctively turned around. Alex!? What was he doing here? No, no, I couldn’t look at him. I shuddered all over, retreating several steps, drenched in a cold sweat as if I’d fallen into a pool. Alex didn’t know what was wrong with me. He continued to approach, familiarly resting a hand on my shoulder. I violently shrugged it off. He looked puzzled. “Willow Grace, what’s up? Heard you were sick, are you better? When are you going back to school?” Before I could say anything, I felt a strong pull, yanking me forward. It was my mother. She shoved me hard towards the backseat, then jammed the key in the ignition and sped off. We shot out of the parking lot so fast I was caught off guard, stumbled backward, couldn’t hold on, and tumbled clumsily to the ground. My mom slammed on the brakes. She glared at me, gritting her teeth. “You disappoint me so much. I sent you to that academy to stop you from dating and to focus on your studies. But it seems the Director was right; you’re still sneaking around with Alex. You’re going back for another six months!” “No, no, Mom, it’s not like that, please listen to me…” I was terrified. I never wanted to return to that hell. “Hmph, I can’t trust you anymore. I’m sending you back this afternoon.” She reached for her phone. Right there on the street, I dropped to my knees. Passersby pointed and whispered, and the men’s voices ringing in my ears made me dizzy. “Mom, no… it’s not like that!” I shook my head wildly, frantically trying to grab her phone. No, I couldn’t go back to that hell that drove people mad! I snatched the phone and smashed it against the pavement. It shattered into pieces. My mom stood frozen, staring at my crazed expression in disbelief. I trembled, my voice shaking, but I spoke to her seriously. “Mom, I told you, I’m not in an early romance. I just happened to run into him!” “I didn’t say a single word to him, you…” I hoped she would finally believe me, just this once, but she didn’t listen. A slap, harsh and stinging, landed on my face. It shattered the last sliver of hope I had for her. “Willow Grace, you’re getting bolder now! Dating, lying, and now you’re smashing my phone!” “Hmph, that correctional academy’s discipline is too lenient. When you go back, I’ll make sure to tell the Director to really take care of you. Even if they have to beat you, let’s see if you’ll finally behave.” Every word she spoke felt like a stab to my heart. Beatings. Ha. If only it were just beatings. The pain in my bruised and battered body was less than a thousandth of the hurt caused by her disbelief. I no longer trusted her. Desperate to avoid returning to hell, I had to run. The steel needles deep in my feet tore at me with every step, an agonizing pain. The staff had hammered them in while I was fully conscious. The needles were fine, but there were so many. But I couldn’t stop. I had to escape. Escape hell, escape the nightmare, escape the mother who, like a devil, had sent me to that inferno. “Willow Grace, stop running! Get back here!” My mom chased after me. I sprinted across the road. Maybe she wouldn’t catch me there! I charged forward heedlessly, not noticing the surging traffic. “Willow—” “Screech—” Along with my mom’s scream and the deafening sound of brakes, My body was flung several feet by the car, tumbling twice like a broken doll before landing on the ground. How wonderful. I looked up at the sky, a void. Finally, there were no annoying men in my sight! But then, a red haze quickly covered my vision, and I could no longer see the blue sky. I heard my mom screaming my name beside me, “Willow, don’t scare me! Mom will take you to the hospital right away!” I could almost hear her hysterical, panicked cries, “Quick, someone help me! Save my daughter!” I smiled. After all this time, I finally felt a sliver of warmth. Dying like this wouldn’t be so bad. To feel a bit of her motherly love before I died, I was content! I fell into a warm embrace, wanting to drift off to sleep completely. Was it Mom? Mom, your embrace is truly warm. I quietly closed my eyes, my lips trembling. “Mom, I won’t go back. I’ll be tortured… tortured to death…” The hand gripping mine grew cold, and I no longer had the strength to say anything more… And my mother, seeing me struck down, the skin exposed beneath my torn clothes, had lost her voice entirely. She couldn’t believe what her daughter had endured in just half a year. Beneath my frail body, the marks of needle jabs and iron brands were dense and scattered everywhere. From my broken arm, several pencil-thin steel needles protruded. “Willow… Willow, my daughter! Your mother is to blame! Wake up! Mom won’t force you anymore, I won’t send you away again…” In a daze, I heard her heartbroken sobs, and a tiny warmth emanated from the hand she clutched tightly. I wished I could feel that warmth a little longer, but I couldn’t hold on anymore. My eyelids were heavy, and I slowly closed my eyes.
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