My Mother's Revenge Book

My mom keeps a list of grievances.

On one side, she records the expenses of raising me, and on the other, she notes my disobedience.

In her book, I have all sorts of names.

Burden, brat, ungrateful child...

While she hopes for my success, she also wishes for my demise.

Eventually, I did die.

I left her with a hollow shell, and a bank card with eighty thousand dollars.

Mom, I returned both money and life to you.

Are you satisfied now?

...

The day before New Year's Eve, a heavy snowstorm hit.

After struggling to knock on the door, my mom appeared with Rhys.

Rhys is my cousin, three days younger than me. After my uncle and aunt died in a car accident, she was raised in our home.

My parents love her dearly.

Really, really love her.

Seeing my appearance, my mom sneered.

"You're no intellectual, so why wear glasses like one? No matter how you pretend to be demure, you're just a pretentious flirt!"

It seemed like she had given me a new nickname.

She has a list of grievances.

On one side, it records the expenses of raising me, and on the other, my acts of defiance.

In that book, I have all sorts of names.

Burden, brat, ungrateful child... and now, a pretentious flirt.

Snow trickled down my face, and my limbs were numb from the cold.

Yet they stood at the door, critiquing me as if I were a defective product.

It wasn't until my dad emerged from the kitchen, smelling like a kitchen, that he pulled me inside.

He wiped his face, handed me his apron, and said, "Why are you so late? Don't just stand there, hurry and cook!"

The kitchen door closed behind me.

The roar of the extractor fan filled the air, but it couldn't drown out their laughter.

To my ears, it was like a drumbeat, pounding in my chest.

Suddenly, my hand slipped.

A bottle of soy sauce crashed to the ground.

The sound of shattering glass was followed by my mom rushing in.

Without a word, she slapped me across the face!

"Kiera! Can't you even manage to cook? Why the tantrum? What's with the long face? Who are you trying to impress?"

Mom, you're right. I'm almost dead.

My glasses fell to the floor, and my vision blurred.

As I groped for them, the broken bottle cut my fingers, while my mom continued her tirade.

"If you don't want to come back, then don't. Am I holding you back from earning a living? You act like I owe you a fortune!"

I put my glasses back on, stood up, and wiped the blood on my apron.

I spoke quietly.

"Mom? Who doesn't want to come home during the holidays? Is it me who doesn't want to return? You don't give me living expenses. If I don't work outside, how will I pay for school?"

"And I'm not throwing a tantrum or pretending to be demure. I'm just sick... "

Mom, I'm sick, with late-stage brain cancer.

The tumor has affected my nerves, impairing my vision and movement.

But my mom didn't let me finish.

"Enough with the sickness talk! It's inauspicious to talk about illness during the New Year! If I had known, I wouldn't have let you come back!"

I forced a bitter smile. "I'm already here, let's just endure it."

My mom let out a shriek, her freshly painted red nails scraped across my cheek.

"Old Chen! Look at your daughter! As a daughter, she tells her mother to endure her! How long do I have to put up with this... "

Until I die.

I wiped the blood from my cheek and sighed inwardly.

That 'endure it' wasn't meant for my mom.

I was telling myself to endure.

I've lived like this for twenty-two years; a few more days won't matter.

Once I'm gone, there'll be nothing to endure.

My dad and Laurie coaxed my mom into the bedroom.

I rinsed my injured fingers under the tap and continued cooking.

Once the meal was ready, the family sat down.

My dad served everyone sweet and sour ribs.

But I returned my portion to him.

For the past six months, painkillers have ruined my stomach.

Now I can only eat plain porridge and vegetables.

My mom slammed her chopsticks on the table.

"Kiera! What are you trying to prove? Is your family starving you?"

My dad frowned, "Kiera, why do you upset your mom as soon as you get back? Can't we just have a meal together? Didn't you used to love sweet and sour ribs? Why not eat them now?"

Dad, I want to eat.

But if I do, I'll throw up.

Laurie added fuel to the fire, "Uncle, maybe my sister has found better food outside and doesn't like ribs anymore."

My mom glanced at me with disdain.

"You are so willful. When you want, you eat a whole dish. When you don't, you won't touch it!"

The idea that I could eat a whole dish of ribs was Laurie's doing.

I lived with my uncle's family for eight years.

During those years, my mom only brought me back to the county during winter and summer breaks.

Laurie loved sweet and sour ribs, so my aunt made them often.

But no matter how many times she made them, I never got a piece.

Getting some sauce with rice was the biggest favor she did me.

I never complained; instead, every time my aunt made the dish, I would sneak into the kitchen to learn.

I found it delicious and wanted to make it for my mom.

My aunt wasn't pleased and would scold me each time.

"Why are you so greedy? Like a stray dog drawn to scraps! Dogs eat filth, will you?"

Her words were harsh, but I endured to learn cooking.

Finally, when break came, Laurie and I were taken home by my mom.

I proudly cooked sweet and sour ribs for my mom.

She ate, pleased, saying, "Seems like your aunt didn't mistreat you. This is good, you must have eaten plenty."

That day, I finally got two pieces of meat.

I ate slowly, savoring the taste.

Seeing this, my mom suddenly frowned, knocking the meat from my hand.

"Kiera! Has your aunt pampered you too much? Are you sick of ribs?"

Before I could cry, Laurie started to weep.

"Aunt, my mom favors my sister. Every time, she gets a whole dish of ribs, and I only get one piece... "

I stood there, dumbfounded.

My mom didn't let me explain.

She gave the whole dish to Laurie.

Not even leaving me the sauce...