Wish You'd Love Me

The results from the third mock exams came back, and I handed my report card—stacked with fake low scores—to my mother for her signature.

She didn't seem surprised; she must have gotten used to my failure by now.

"Ha, I knew it—you're a good-for-nothing," she scoffed. "And you still have the nerve to let Clarissa tell people you did well? Talk about thick skin. Having a daughter like you, I'd probably be better off if I just ended it all. Good thing you're not—"

She stopped herself abruptly and spat a raisin onto me. I felt disgusted, but I dared not flick it away. If I did, my situation would only get worse.

"Later, I'm heading to Sadie's for dinner. You'd better wash the clothes and clean the floors. And don't forget to do the dishes," she ordered.

I lowered my head, sinking deep into my thoughts. What would happen if my mother knew I was her real daughter? It wasn't long before she would find out. I smiled. I couldn't wait to see her reaction.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain on my head as my mother yanked my hair and slammed my head into the wall.

"Are you mute?! Did you hear what I said?!" she screamed. "I don't know whose bad genes you inherited, but if you could be even a little like Clarissa, I might actually think something of you," she spat out.

Day after day of abuse. The wall paint peeled off, revealing the cracked cement underneath, sharp enough to leave bruises on my skin.

I'd gotten used to the pain, but I still couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath that followed it. Blood dripped from my forehead, running down my hairline and splattering onto the floor.

I slowly lifted my head and met my mother's eyes.

"Is that so?" I asked, my voice steady despite the blood staining my face. "If my results were as good as Clarissa's, would you treat me better?"

Her eyes widened in fear, and she took a step back. Once she understood what I meant, she immediately pointed a finger at me.

"You? Don't get ahead of yourself. Not only is it impossible for you to get Clarissa's grades, but it's also your character! Your filthy genes!" she yelled.

I grabbed her finger, and we stood there, staring at each other.

As the time passed, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement—both for me and for my mother.

"Why are my genes so filthy? Am I not your child?" I asked, the words slipping out without hesitation.

My mother jerked her hand away, wiping it off in disgust.

"Wh-what the hell is wrong with you? Go away!" she shouted. "You're just a worthless child. That's never going to change!"

With that, she looked at the time and hurried out the door.

She was eager to see her "real" daughter. In the past, when she went to Clarissa's house for dinner, she would always bring me along. I was the best excuse for her to visit, and she liked showing Sadie how pitiful I was.

She thought the worse I looked, the more it would torment my "real" mother when we were reunited.

But unfortunately for her, my stomach had been getting worse, to the point where I couldn't stop myself from vomiting in front of others. My mother figured I was ruining Clarissa's appetite, so she started leaving me behind when she went for meals. She placed Clarissa above everything else.

After she left, I did everything she asked—washing, cleaning, and putting everything in its place.

Except for one room—her room.

She never allowed me inside, locking it with a password.

The familiar sound of the lock unlocking rang out before I walked inside.

The code was my original due date.

My mother thought this was her real daughter's birthday.

Her room was small but clean. The walls were filled with everything about Clarissa—her baby steps, her photos at school events, her yearly birthday pictures with my mother.

At the back of the room, there was a space where I knew a copy of Clarissa's third mock exam scores and college entrance exam results would soon be posted.

I opened my mother's latest diary entry.

[Clarissa, I hope you understand the love I've given you. Even though you've become distant these past few years and no longer call me "Aunt Fiona", it's okay. After your college exams, you'll come back to me. It's been eighteen years, and I've waited for you for so long. When we're reunited, you'll see through the Gardners' hypocrisy. You'll understand what I've sacrificed for you.]

I flipped through the pages, getting more and more amused. It made me laugh so hard that I was almost in tears.

"Mom, you're such a joke."