Thrown in the Oven, Burned by Regret

I loved eating cakes.

My dad would bring me one every day after work, and my mom bought a full set of oven and baking tools, patiently learning how to bake them for me.

I once thought I was the happiest little princess in the world until the day my parents divorced. The person who came to pick up my dad turned out to be the bakery owner.

My mom turned to me, growling, "This is all your fault! If you hadn't asked for cakes every day, your dad never would've cheated!"

She stretched out her hands, covered in burn scars, and screamed hysterically, "I slaved away making cakes for you, and these hands have never healed since. What did you do? You both think the stuff from outside is so much better!"

She grabbed a baking sheet and smacked me hard with it. I bit my lip, not daring to make a sound.

That night, she brought home a little girl. Ignoring the pain all over my body, I begged for her forgiveness. "Mom, I'm sorry. Please don't throw me away. I swear I'll never eat another cake!"

She slapped me across the face, but that wasn't enough to quench her anger. She tossed me into the big oven. "I'm not your mom! You love cakes so much? Stay in there and reflect on what you've done! You and your worthless dad both deserve to die!"

After she slammed the door and stormed out, the little girl skipped over to the oven, grinning smugly as she hit the switch. "From now on, your mom is gonna be mine!"

The oven kicked on, and the temperature began to rise. I smiled bitterly.

At least this way, my mom could finally be happy.

...

Inside the oven, heat surged in from every direction. Everything was scorching hot.

I pounded desperately on the glass door in front of me, my hands turning red from the effort. "Mom, I was wrong! Save me! It's so hot! Let me out!"

As I cried, I accidentally bumped into the metal wall, yanking my hand back in pain.

Cecily Phelps leaned in close to the oven, looking all smug. "You used to brag at school every day about your awesome mom. Now what? She doesn't want you anymore. From now on, she'll only buy dresses for me, and she'll only love me. She is my mom now."

I cried so hard that my throat went raw. Sweat and tears dripped onto the oven floor and sizzled away instantly.

Cecily laughed at my misery, then ran out of the kitchen. I heard her talking to my mom, Carrie Compton, outside.

"Ava is saying bad stuff about you in there!" she lied. "She says if you don't let her out, she's gonna go find the bakery lady to be her mom."

I never said that, praying that Carrie would not believe her.

But the next second, Carrie's angry voice rang out. "Let her stay in there as long as she wants. She's so spoiled. That's why she's got such a bad temper. Come on, Cecily. Let's go buy you some new clothes."

The front door slammed shut. All that was left was the humming of the oven.

It was so hot everywhere. My hands and feet ached from the heat. The golden bracelet on my wrist that my parents had given me started to burn.

Carrie had told me that as long as I wore it, I'd always be safe. But it was too hot; I wanted to take it off.

I stopped myself, believing that my parents had split up because of me. If I took it off, Carrie would be even more upset.

I curled up into a ball, my head spinning. "Mom, why haven't you come to save me yet? Do you really not want me anymore? I miss you so much."

I writhed in agony, slowly losing consciousness. "Mom, I'll be more obedient."

...

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself floating lightly in the living room.

In the kitchen, that big oven had stopped running. Some dirty handprints were left on the door.

I tiptoed over and peeked inside. There was a small, black, curled-up thing in there. That was me.

Cecily's excited voice came from the bedroom. "Mom, is this pretty room gonna be mine from now on? And all those dresses in the closet... can I wear them?"

Carrie glanced subconsciously at the kitchen, her brows furrowing slightly. But it was only for a moment before she turned back, giving Cecily the same gentle smile she used to give me. "Of course, sweetie. From now on, everything in this house is yours. Just tell me what you want."

Cecily's face lit up with a winner's grin, but she quickly switched to a worried look. "What about Ava? Won't she get mad?"

Carrie's smile froze, replaced by disgust in an instant. She snorted, "What right does she have to get mad? She's been in there forever and is still throwing a tantrum. Cecily, are you hungry? I've got some delicious stuff for you."

She pulled Cecily over to the table, chatting and laughing. From start to finish, nobody bothered to go into the kitchen and open that oven for a look.

The table was loaded with steaming bread and all sorts of fancy pastries. But my eyes were drawn straight to a strawberry cake in the corner.

Strawberry cake was my favorite. Carrie used to buy them for me all the time.

A tiny spark of hope flickered in me. If the cake was for me, it might mean she wasn't mad anymore.

Cecily took a bite of the bread, then spotted the cake on the table.