Mom, They Won't Mock You Anymore

Mom rubbed a hand down her face after she was done scolding me. She regained her composure and said, "That's enough. Go to bed. We still have to visit our relatives tomorrow. Don't embarrass yourself anymore. Don't give them a chance to ridicule us."

It was that word again.

I dropped my head and silently returned to my room.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and dripped on the floor. My hands hung by my sides as I rubbed the bloodstains on my palms.

I was sick of living like that.

…

The next day, we dropped by my aunt, Gabriella Hall's home.

The living room was packed with people. Some were snacking and chatting while some were playing with the children.

The atmosphere was very lively.

I curled up in a corner of the couch, not daring to speak or move.

I was terrified of hearing that word from Mom again if she thought I was being embarrassing.

Soon, Aunt Gabriella began giving out gifts.

The room was filled with the sounds of joy and laughter as she handed the gifts to all the children.

I clutched the hem of my shirt as I stood at the very back of the group. An ominous feeling festered in my heart. I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

As expected, Aunt Gabriella's hands were empty when it was my turn. She was momentarily stunned before she awkwardly said, "I'm sorry, Claire. I miscounted the gifts and forgot to bring yours. I'll give you your present later, okay?"

I began trembling all over—not because I didn't receive a gift, but because I knew that Mom was going to lose her temper.

She was going to use that word again.

As I predicted, Mom's expression darkened before she furiously shouted at me in front of all our relatives.

"Get over here, Claire!"

I clutched the hem of my shirt as I padded over to her. "Aunt Gabriella said she miscounted the presents, Mom. She'll give one to me later," I explained in a small voice.

"Miscounted?" Mom spat, interrupting me. "You're the only one who didn't get anything. She was probably annoyed that you were trying to get one. Why must you be so greedy? You're so embarrassing! Will you only be satisfied when everyone ridicules me for raising such a greedy daughter?"

A wave of stress crashed into me.

I dug my nails into my arms and scratched myself until my skin turned raw and bloody. However, I didn't feel even an ounce of comfort.

Just then, Amanda tugged on the corner of Mom's shirt and said, "Aunt Vera, I saw Claire rummaging around Aunt Gabriella's bag earlier. I think she took something too. Perhaps she already took the present that was meant for her?"

All of our relatives turned their gazes on me. Their curious, wary, and mocking eyes felt like needles stabbing my heart.

I had nowhere to hide. I could tell that they actually believed that I was a thief.

Summoning all of my strength, I forced myself to speak. "You're lying! I didn't steal any presents!"

The words had just left my lips when Mom roared, "Claire Peterson!"

She stormed toward me until she was standing in front of me. She grabbed my bloody arm and hissed, "How dare you talk back to Amanda and lie in front of everyone? You have utterly humiliated me, allowing everyone to ridicule me! I have no choice but to teach you a lesson you'll never forget."

The pain should have been excruciating as Mom dug her fingers into my wounds. But I couldn't feel anything.

"It's over," I thought to myself. "I won't be able to escape this time."

My arm hurt terribly as Mom dragged me out of the house.

Still, I tried to explain myself. "I didn't do it, Mom. Aunt Gabriella miscounted. Amanda is trying to frame me. I didn't do anything that would give them a chance to ridicule you."

"You didn't do it? Amanda saw you with her own two eyes! How dare you lie and say you didn't do anything?"

Freezing wind billowed into the house when Mom pulled the door open.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson you won't forget today. You'll learn what it's like to be ridiculed by other people!"

Despite my hazy vision, I could see countless pairs of curious eyes watching us from the living room. I saw the corners of Amanda's lips curl up into a triumphant smile.

The word "ridicule" continued to reverberate in my ears like a curse that I couldn't escape from.

Mom shoved me out of the house even though I was just wearing a thin shirt.