Thrown in the Oven, Burned by Regret

...

Carrie charged over, her face twisted in annoyance that Marta had opened the door without permission.

"Mom, stay out of it! I'd like to see how long she can..." Carrie's voice stopped abruptly as she smelled it too.

Her eyes locked onto that big oven. A murky, sticky yellow liquid was seeping out from the door seam. That was my rotting body fluids.

I thought she would be scared, shocked, and realize what had happened. But she wasn't.

After a brief stun, her face twisted with raging anger. She pointed at the stain, her body shaking with fury. "Ava Compton! I told you to reflect on your mistakes, and you peed in there to gross me out? How can you be so low?"

"No, it's not like that." I spun around her in desperation, trying uselessly to explain. "I didn't mean to gross you out. I just died."

I wanted to tell her the truth, but she couldn't hear me at all. Looking at her distorted face, I was overwhelmed by grief and despair.

Even my death looked filthy in her eyes.

Carrie turned and stormed off. Marta glanced at the oven and sighed, "Ava, you went too far! How could you upset your mom like that? Come out and apologize to her, and we'll put this behind us."

Seeing no movement from the little figure in the oven, she sighed again and closed the kitchen door.

I stood there, endless grievance soaking my soul like ice water. I'd said sorry so many times already, but Carrie couldn't hear me.

I floated out of the kitchen and saw Carrie charge straight into the bedroom. She opened a locked drawer—the one she said held her most precious things.

She yanked it open, and inside were all the gifts I'd given her for Mother's Day and her birthdays every year. There was a "I Love Mom" card I'd carefully glued with flower petals and a crayon family portrait, where the three stick figures were smiling all crooked but super happy.

And the colorful braided bracelet I'd spent forever weaving... I never thought she had kept them all so carefully.

But now, like she was possessed, she roughly tore the cards and drawings to shreds. Colorful scraps fluttered everywhere on the floor.

I cried, bending down to pick them up and piece them back. "Mom, don't tear them! I made them with all my heart. I'm dead now, and I can't make you any more gifts."

Her face hardened as she grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped the braided bracelet without hesitation. The colorful threads snapped apart, like the bond between us.

I slumped to the floor, listening to her hysterical curses. "She is just like her heartless dad! Neither of them deserves my care. I only locked her in for one night, and she's throwing a fit to spite me. Does she think I'll take her out to play? She can go die for all I care!"

I gently pressed my head against her hand, pretending she was petting my head. "But Mom, I'm already dead. If you knew, you'd be happy, right?"

Carrie stared at the mess on the floor, then her eyes caught the class photo in the corner. I was in a princess dress, standing among the kids. My face beamed with the happiness of being surrounded by love.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed.

In the parents' group chat, the teacher sent a notice: [Next week is Ava Compton's birthday. Her parents can prepare a cake for her to share with the class.]

The message had just gone out, and the chat blew up.

[Ava shared her strawberry cake with my daughter, who had a fall. Such a thoughtful kid.]

[Let's do strawberry cakes again. The kids all love them.]

The words "strawberry cake" stung Carrie. She let out a cold laugh, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

[Everyone, this is Ava's mother. I'm sorry to say that her dad and I are divorced. It's all Ava's fault. For a stupid cake, she pushed her dad to another woman.]

I spun around in a panic. "I didn't. That's not what happened!"

To vent her anger, Carrie kept typing: [She'd throw away her dad just for something to eat. I can't raise a kid like that anymore.]

The group exploded. The parents who'd just been praising me flipped in an instant.

[Throwing away her dad for a cake? That's horrible!]

[So selfish at such a young age. What will she be like when she's older?]

The accusations against me pricked my heart and soul like needles. The dense pain was unbearable.

"That's not true. I didn't trade my dad for cakes," I cried.

Carrie set down her phone and turned gently to hug Cecily. "Cecily, don't worry. From now on, I'll only love you."

I looked at the happy girl in Carrie's arms, my heart shattering into pieces. "Mom, do you really not want me anymore?"

Cecily paused, her panic shifting to a sweet smile. She had been terrified when Carrie rushed to the kitchen earlier, afraid the latter would find my body.

She snuggled in, rubbing contentedly. "Mom, I love you, too."

I hugged myself in grief, imagining I was the one in Carrie's arms. She loved me, and I loved her.

Just then, the doorbell rang urgently.