The Life Mom Was Meant to Have

For six months, I pick through trash to scrape together enough money to buy Mom a beautiful dress for her birthday. I can't wait to give it to her. But the moment I hand her the dress, her gentle smile vanishes. She screams, shoves me to the floor, and grabs a chair. She brings it down on me again and again. "Did that monster put you up to this? Did he tell you to give me this dress just to hurt me? You've got his blood in your veins! I should've known you'd turn on me!" She beats me until I'm barely breathing, then runs out of the house, leaving me alone on the cold floor. As my vision blurs, a book suddenly opens before my eyes. That's when I learn the truth. I'm the tragic male lead in a dark novel. The story has that monster force himself on Mom just to give me a miserable childhood. I'm the reason her whole life was ruined. I smile and reach toward the glowing pages with a bloodied hand. I'll save Mom, even if it means I was never born. Chapter 1 I was floating in the air when I saw Mom at 18. She wore a beautiful dress, her face bright with a carefree smile. My heart ached. I'd never seen her smile like that before. The Mom I knew was always screaming and flying into rages. Without thinking, I whispered, "Mom." To my surprise, she stopped and looked around warily. "Who said that?" She could hear me! My heart leaped. I hesitated for a moment, then said softly, "Mom, I'm your son. I'm from the future." A bitter smile crossed my face. She'd never let me call her Mom. She called me a bastard and said I was the monster who had ruined her life. I remembered trying to get close to her when I was little. I'd called her Mom as sweetly as I knew how. She'd been perfectly calm one second. Then she snapped. She slapped me across the mouth again and again, screaming, "Don't you dare call me Mom, you little bastard! You don't deserve to!" She hit me until my lips split and bled. Even now, my speech was still a little slurred. After that, I never dared call her Mom again. I thought Mom at 18 would hate me, too. But instead, her eyes lit up. "You're my son? Really? Who do I end up with? Do we have a happy family?" she asked softly. There was so much hope in her eyes that my throat tightened. Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. How could I tell her? That monster would force himself on Mom, all because of me. After that, she'd spend the rest of her life in hell. She'd never be happy. I suddenly wished I hadn't told her I was her son. I didn't deserve to be her son. When I stayed quiet for too long, Mom spoke again, her voice tentative. "Sweetheart, do I treat you badly in the future? I'm sorry. Let me apologize for what she did to you." Seeing how guilty and worried she looked, my throat tightened. "No, Mom. You were always good to me." Just then, a wave of weakness swept through me. I could feel myself starting to fade. I tried to think, and then I remembered something important. Panic surged through me. "Mom, there's something really important. Whatever you do, don't go to the party after the entrance exam. You'll..." Before I could say anything more, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the rundown apartment. The book was still hovering in midair. One line read, "Alan Carter forces himself on Lizzie Blythe on her way home from the party after the entrance exam." The words hadn't changed. I burst into tears. Why hadn't anything changed? I'd already warned Mom not to go to the party. Suddenly, the room spun. That terrifying feeling that I was dying came over me again. I crumpled to the floor. Maybe if I died here, Mom would finally be free. My consciousness was fading when the woman next door called an ambulance. She stayed with me until it arrived, then looked down at me with pity and sighed. "I knew you'd end up hurt again. It's always one tragedy after another with you and your mom." They rushed me into the ER. By the time I woke again, half the day had passed. I stared at the book floating in front of me, racking my brain for a way back into its world. Then it hit me that blood might be the key. I slipped into the bathroom, cut my wrist with a paring knife, and let the blood drip onto the book. The next second, it pulled me back into its world. Chapter 2 I found myself back at the exact moment I'd first seen Mom. She was calling for me tentatively. "Sweetheart, are you still there?" The tenderness in that one word made my heart pound. I wanted more than anything to stay here forever, with Mom just like this. But the dizziness hit even harder this time. I hurried to warn her. "Mom, whatever you do, don't go to the party after the entrance exam! You'll get hurt." Mom froze and frowned slightly. "But I already said I'd go. Everyone else is going. Wouldn't it be weird if I were the only one who didn't?" Mom was still softhearted at 18, so I forced myself to sound stern. "You can't go, Mom. If you do, Grandma and Grandpa will die in a fire. You'll rush home, and a bad man will hurt you on the way. Please, Mom, don't go. It'll be the start of a lifetime of misery." Mom's eyes widened. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly. I smiled when I saw how serious she was. I'd warned her this time. Surely she'd stay out of that monster's reach. The next second, everything went black. When I came to, I was back in the real world. Before I even opened my eyes, I heard Mom shrieking. "You little bastard! If you were going to kill yourself, why couldn't you just die? Why did anyone have to save you?" My eyes flew open, and I met Mom's wild stare. My heart hammered in my chest. Why was she even more out of control than before? Then my gaze dropped to her legs, and I froze. One of them was gone. She'd had both legs before! I quickly looked at the book only I could see. The passage about Mom had finally changed, but somehow, her fate was even worse. One line read, "On August 10, Alan Carter breaks into Lizzie Blythe's home. Her parents are killed, he forces himself on her, and her left leg is broken in the struggle." I stared at the words, barely holding myself together. Why had Mom's life become even more miserable? Was there really no way to change her fate? "You little bastard! Stay away from me! Get lost! Get lost!" Suddenly, Mom grabbed me and yanked me to the floor. Wild-eyed, she snatched up a pair of scissors and slashed my face. Blood ran down my cheek, and I screamed in pain. Without thinking, I begged, "Mom, I'm sorry. Please stop hurting me." The doctors nearby quickly restrained her and gave her a sedative. Once she was unconscious, I was rushed to the ER. As they wheeled me away, I heard people talking nearby. "Poor kid. Imagine having a mother like that." "He's the son of the man who forced himself on her. Honestly, she's been merciful enough just letting him live." Tears slid from the corners of my eyes as I lay on the stretcher. It was all my fault. I would find a way to save Mom. I had to. Two weeks later, Mom came to take me home. She was unusually calm and didn't yell at me once the entire way. But my heart wouldn't stop pounding. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Once we got home, Mom shut herself in her room while I tried to figure out how to save her. Then I thought of Alan Carter. He was the one who hurt Mom both times. If Alan died, would Mom finally be free? I took Mom's phone without her knowing and searched the old case online, desperate to find a photo of him. "What are you doing?" Mom's cold voice came from behind me. Before I could turn around, a hard shove sent me to the floor. Mom snatched the phone from my hand. The moment she saw what was on the screen, she flew into a rage. Her eyes blazed as she glared at me. "Why are you looking up that monster? You ungrateful little brat! Are you trying to find him so he can come back and hurt me again? You filthy little bastard! I should've strangled you when I had the chance!" Mom punched and kicked me over and over. I curled up on the floor and didn't make a sound, no matter how much it hurt. I deserved it. If I had never existed, Mom wouldn't have suffered at that man's hands. She wouldn't have lost everyone she loved. I could still see the smile she'd worn the first time I met her. That was how Mom was supposed to be. She should've had a happy family. She should've been healthy, gone to college, and married a man who loved her. Instead, she had no one left. Her mind was in ruins, and she was holed up in a rundown apartment, barely making it through each day. All she had left was to wait for the story to end so she could finally end her own life. Eventually, Mom wore herself out. She left me lying on the floor and limped away. Still trembling, I cut my wrist with a paring knife and returned to the world inside the book. Chapter 3 This time, I arrived in the story on the very night Mom was attacked. I froze in midair. Her once-cozy home had been completely trashed, with furniture overturned and scattered everywhere. Grandma and Grandpa lay on the floor in pools of blood. Mom was pinned beneath Alan, his face twisted with rage. He slapped her hard across the face. "Still fighting me, huh? Let's see how long that lasts." 18-year-old Mom lay beneath him, tears streaming down her face. "Help me! Please, somebody help me!" she cried hoarsely. Rage surged through me. Then I realized I could actually touch things in this world. I grabbed a broken chair leg and brought it down on Alan's head with all my strength. He never saw it coming. I hit him once, twice, then a third time. I didn't stop until the back of his head caved in and he collapsed motionless on the floor. A wave of weakness swept through me. Mom sat up, stunned, and looked around. "Was that you? Are you some kind of god? Did you save me?" she whispered. I looked at her and laughed softly. The moment she heard my voice, her eyes lit up. "Who are you? I need to thank you." I knew this version of Mom had never met me before. "Yes, I'm the one who saved you. I just want you to live a happy life," I said softly. I paused before adding, "And if you can, don't have children." The moment I finished speaking, I was ripped out of the book's world. When I opened my eyes again, I saw a huge scar running across Mom's face. Her eyes were completely lifeless. "Come eat," she said coldly. I immediately looked at the book. Alan was dead, but Mom's fate had only gotten worse. A month later, another man had forced himself on her. He'd been even more brutal and had left her permanently disfigured. A broken wail tore out of me. What was I supposed to do? How could I change Mom's fate? The book hovered silently in front of me, almost as if it were mocking me. No matter how hard I tried, Mom's fate refused to change. I curled up in my room and cried until my eyes were swollen. But when I finally lifted my head, I was determined again. There had to be a way. I just hadn't thought of it yet. "Get out here and eat!" Mom's furious voice came from the other side of the door. I climbed out of bed and made my way unsteadily to the table, then stopped in surprise. The table was covered with food, and there was even a whole roast chicken. I almost couldn't believe it. Mom had never made me a meal this good before. She always said I was a filthy little bastard who didn't deserve food like this. "Eat." Mom calmly put a drumstick on my plate. I hesitated before taking a bite. The rich, savory flavor filled my mouth, and before I knew it, I was wolfing it down. Mom ate with quiet grace across from me. We were almost done eating when Mom finally looked up at me. Her eyes were as lifeless as ever. She said softly, "I've been thinking. I must've done something terrible to deserve a life like this. Maybe this is some kind of punishment." Then I saw blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Dread shot through me, and I rushed to her side. "Mom! Mom, what's wrong? I'll call an ambulance!" She smacked my hand away. For the first time, there was a hint of relief in her empty eyes. "Living hurts too much. I can't keep doing this. I drank pesticide before dinner. I was going to take you with me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I only poisoned one piece of chicken and left it to chance whether you'd eat it. Guess you got lucky. You didn't." A bitter smile touched her lips. "Maybe that's for the best. After I'm gone, someone will adopt you, and you'll get a fresh start. Maybe that's the only way things between us can finally end. One of us has to die." More and more blood spilled from the corner of her mouth. I broke down sobbing. "Mom, please don't die! I'm the one who should die. I'm the curse on your life!" But Mom no longer had the strength to answer. Her body went limp, a faint smile of relief still on her face. For a moment, I couldn't move. Then, with shaking hands, I pulled Mom into my arms. Tears blurred my vision, but a terrifying clarity cut through the grief. I stared at the book, then suddenly laughed. "I know how to save you now, Mom."