My Death Was Just "Drama" to Her

Mom patted Cindy's hand tenderly. "Don't worry about Flora. If she wants to pretend to be sick, let her. She can just go to hell for all I care."

I floated in the air, clutching my aching chest as I curled up helplessly.

"Mom, I didn't lie to you. I'm really dying," I thought.

Cindy glanced at the phone and continued persuading, "Mom, maybe something really did happen to Flora—"

Before she could finish, Mom cut her off firmly, "Impossible. She's my daughter. I birthed her. How could I not know what she's up to? She's pretending! Don't always be so soft-hearted.

"If it weren't for the shady little tricks she pulled behind our backs back then, I wouldn't have lost the chance to be your spotter. If I'd been your spotter, something like this wouldn't have happened to you."

She made a solemn promise to Cindy. "Once you recover and leave the hospital, I'll go back and submit a report so I can be your spotter. Only when I watch over you myself will I feel at ease.

"Don't assume that Flora sees you as family just because you're sisters. Have you forgotten how she took advantage of your illness to steal your spot and enter the state team? If it hadn't been for you, she wouldn't have become a gymnast at all.

"She stole your spot. Now, she's pretending to be sick and dying to gain sympathy. Why would I have such a vile daughter? I should have strangled her back when she was born to save myself all this trouble!"

As I listened to her rant, a tide of bitterness and sorrow surged in my heart. Perhaps, in Mom's eyes, everything I did was wrong.

She had never believed me. Back then, Cindy and I were both promising candidates for the state gymnastics team. But at that time, there was only one available spot.

The head coach, Bethany Johnson, chose me when everyone on our gymnastics team was present. But on that very night, Cindy coughed violently and claimed she had a high fever. She falsely accused me of stealing her spot.

And just like that, Mom believed her. She was convinced that Cindy fell ill because she was too upset that I had stolen her spot.

But Mom herself had once been a professional gymnast. She could tell that I had more talent than Cindy. I was more qualified to enter the state team.

Still, she chose to ignore it.

Even when we sent in our applications for who we wanted as our spotters, Mom went directly to Bethany and said she didn't want to be my spotter.

When gymnasts perform routines, many high-difficulty moves come with extreme risk. To ensure our safety, each gymnast could choose a spotter who could intervene in time if something went wrong.

Mom had gymnastics experience, and she was our parent. So, she was the best spotter Cindy and I could ask for.

I knew very well that Mom only had eyes for Cindy. When she went to speak with Bethany, she didn't even care to do it discreetly when I wasn't around. So, I heard everything clearly.

She didn't want to be tied to me in any way. Whether it was our mother-daughter relationship or the close bond between a gymnast and her spotter, she rejected it all. She hated me.

So, I never submitted an application and gave that opportunity to Cindy instead.

But when the assignments were announced, Mom became my spotter. Cindy's spotter, on the other hand, was a young and handsome male coach.

From then on, whether in training or during competitions, Mom only watched Cindy whenever she was performing. Over time, she couldn't react in time to my mistakes as she was more absorbed with watching Cindy.

I lowered my head to look at myself. My soul still retained the appearance I had in life. When I pulled back my clothes, underneath were countless scars that marred my body.

I had gotten injured many times. Fortunately, it wasn't to the extent that I lost my career because of them. Still, it had drastically shortened my athletic career. Inevitably, I would have to retire early while I was still young.

In my final competition before I was about to retire and leave the arena for good, I ran out of strength and made a mistake. To make things worse, Cindy had pushed me, which caused me to fall from a height.

My spine shattered. The intense pain drained all color from my face as my life hung by a thread.

As my spotter, Mom knew the severe consequences that could result from my fall. Yet, she chose to abandon me and run toward Cindy, who had only sprained her ankle but was crying until her face was streaked with tears.