Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
My mother was a master at victim-blaming.
When I was little, a kid snatched my toy and shoved me to the ground, scraping my hands raw. I ran home in tears, looking for comfort.
She just sneered. "Why would they only steal from you? You’re just too selfish. You never learned to share."
In high school, the bullies beat me black and blue. When I dragged myself home covered in bruises, she slapped me across the face.
"Why are they only picking on you and no one else? Ever think that maybe you’re the problem?"
Later, she brought my main tormentor right into our home.
"There was more to that story back then. Stop holding a grudge. Brooke is going to live with us from now on."
From that day forward, I learned to shut my mouth.
Until the night after graduation, when two thugs dragged me into an abandoned construction site and raped me.
I crawled home, sobbing hysterically. But my mother only looked at me with pure disgust.
"Are you done with the drama? You’ve loved playing the victim your whole life. Who are you trying to frame this time?"
She didn't know that was the very last time I would ever ask her for help.
I stood by the doorway, my head hung low, completely silent.
"What are you standing there for? Who are you going to blame this time? I’m exhausted just watching your little show."
Brooke handed a glass of warm water to my mother.
"Eleanor, please don't be mad. Maybe Chloe isn't lying this time."
My mother scoffed. "A perfectly healthy girl, yet every single day someone is supposedly bullying her! All she knows is whining and blaming everyone else, never once looking in the mirror."
"Ignore her, Brooke. You’re the sensible one. If only she had half your manners."
My voice shook violently as I forced out the words. "Mom, please... someone really hurt me..."
My mother cut me off with a cold laugh.
"Why is there always drama with you? You snuck out in the middle of the night! Even if someone did touch you, you brought it on yourself."
"Look at Brooke. Look how well-behaved she is. Why can’t you be more like her?"
I stared at Brooke sitting beside my mother, my fists clenched tight.
Going out tonight hadn't been my idea. Brooke had forced me to go pick up a package from school for her.
She threatened that if I didn't go, she would post my nude photos all over the internet.
Brooke narrowed her eyes at me, a sweet, venomous smile spreading across her lips. Cold sweat broke out down my spine.
I didn't dare say a single word.
Back during our freshman year of high school, Brooke and her gang cornered me in a dead-end alley. They stomped on my face, grinding their dirty sneakers into my cheeks.
I couldn't hold back a scream, but that only excited them more.
They tore off my shirt, kicked my stomach, and pinched the skin on my waist until it bruised black and blue.
"You look like a little slut who loves seducing guys. Acting so pure and innocent, hitting on the football captain, shamelessly talking to him after class."
"You think you’re pretty, you worthless trash? Don't you know Brooke has a crush on him?"
I shook my head frantically, weeping and begging, saying I hadn't done anything.
I had only asked him a few math questions. That was all.
Brooke spat in my face. "If I ever catch you talking to him again, you're dead."
Eventually, they let me go.
When I stumbled back home in tatters, I thought my mother would care.
Instead, she welcomed me with a hard slap to the face.I cried and explained that girls had beaten me up, but my mother only wore an icy scowl.
"Why would they only pick on you? There are hundreds of kids in that school! You must have done something to provoke them."
"I sent you to school to study, not to fool around with juvenile delinquents."
The next day, my mother stormed into the school. I pointed right at Brooke, but nobody believed me.
The counselor said, "Brooke is an honor student and a model citizen. She's so quiet and gentle—how could she possibly bully anyone?"
The class president chimed in, "Chloe has to be lying. Other students saw her hanging around with street punks yesterday. She probably got into a fight with them and is trying to pin it on Brooke."
One classmate after another stepped forward to vouch for Brooke.
Brooke stood off to the side, quietly dabbing at her tears. Suddenly, she turned to me and begged, "Chloe, just because you’re jealous of my grades doesn't mean you can bully me like this. Just because I don't have parents to stand up for me, you think you can humiliate me?"
That night, after dragging me home, my mother beat me with a cane until I nearly passed out.
"I’ll teach you to lie! I’ll teach you to frame innocent people! Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me today?"
"Do you think it’s easy raising you alone? Can’t you give me some peace of mind? A dog would be less trouble than you!"
That night, she made me kneel on the bare hardwood floor until morning. I didn't sleep a wink.
I thought the bullying would end there, but it only made Brooke bolder and more cruel.
What I never anticipated was that my mother would adopt her.
During our sophomore year, Brooke's grandmother passed away suddenly, leaving her an orphan.
The school started a community fundraiser for Brooke's tuition. Still feeling guilty over the incident, my mother went to the school, spoke to the principal, and decided to take Brooke in and sponsor her education to make up for my "false accusations."
She had no idea she was inviting a venomous snake into our home.
No matter how hard I protested, it was useless.
The day Brooke moved in, my mother threw all my belongings out of my bedroom.
"You’re moving into the small storage room next door. There's a cot in there."
I stood frozen in the doorway, refusing to budge.
"Mom, you can't do this! This is my room!"
My mother lashed out. "Why are you so selfish? She's an orphan! She just lost the only family she had left. What's wrong with me showing her some kindness?"
"Besides, have you already forgotten how you framed her? Brooke was generous enough to forgive you. It’s time you grew up."
Brooke chimed in softly, "Eleanor, it’s okay. I don't want to take Chloe's room the moment I arrive. I can sleep anywhere, really."
In the end, I was shoved into that storage room. It had only one tiny window; without the light on, it was pitch black.
Even now, it was still crammed with junk. My clothes had to stay piled on the floor. No closet, no desk.I grabbed my pajamas and locked myself in the bathroom, scrubbing my skin over and over under the shower.
No matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn't wash away the bruises.
The throbbing pain all over my body was a constant reminder of what had just happened to me.
I curled into a ball on the cold tiles and wept silently.
My mother pounded on the door, impatient.
"You've been in there forever! What could you possibly be washing?"
I choked back my tears and put on my clothes.
Early the next morning, my mother took Brooke out shopping.
When they returned, their arms were loaded with shopping bags.
Not a single bag was for me.
Brooke excitedly tried on one dress after another, twirling around the living room.
I sat huddled in the corner, clutching my worn jeans, watching with hollow envy.
So many dresses. Every single one was hers.
I was confused. My mother had always told me that girls who wear dresses are cheap, that they only wear them to seduce men.
Why was it okay for Brooke to wear them?
The question slipped out before I could stop myself.
Instantly, Brooke’s eyes welled with tears.
"Chloe, how could you say that about me? Are you jealous because Eleanor didn't buy you any? Here, take them all! I won't wear any of them!"
"Smack."
My ears rang violently. My right cheek flared with burning, stinging pain.
Tears spilled over my lashes.
My mother shook with rage, pointing a finger right in my face.
"Chloe, why is your heart so ugly? Just because I didn't take you shopping, you attack Brooke like this?"
The fury on her face was identical to that night years ago.
She had pointed at me the exact same way.
That time, I had come home from my father's new house.
My stepmother had bought me a pretty summer dress. On the walk home, two creeps cornered me in an alley and tried to grope me.
Luckily, a patrol car passed by, and the officers called my mother.
When she arrived, there was no relief, no concern. Only blame.
"Who told you to wear a dress? Walking around half-naked at night, of course you tempted them!"
The officer had frowned. "Ma'am, the dress didn't do this. Criminals did. The fault lies with bad people, not clothing."
My mother hadn't listened then, and she wasn't listening now.
I had only repeated her own words back to them.
Why was it wrong only when it came from me?At dinner, my mother kept heaping food onto Brooke’s plate. They chatted and laughed, looking far more like a real mother and daughter than we ever had.
I kept my head down, quietly picking at my food. When I reached out to ladle some clam chowder, my mother slapped the back of my hand.
"Are you that greedy? You already had a bowl! Leave some for Brooke, it’s her favorite."
"Thank you, Eleanor. You’re the best," Brooke said, smiling sweetly.
My eyes darkened.
I pulled my hand back and only ate from the plain salad bowl closest to me.
My mother glanced at me, her brow furrowed.
"I’m taking Brooke on a trip to the coast tomorrow. She worked so hard studying for the SATs, she needs to unwind."
"You’re just going to loaf around the house all summer anyway, so don't be lazy. I spoke to Mrs. Davis down at the packaging plant; they need seasonal workers. I sent you her number. As soon as we leave tomorrow, you go report to work."
"Stop expecting hand-outs. You’re eighteen now."
My fingers trembled around my fork, an ache squeezing my chest.
I had taken the SATs too. Why did Brooke get a vacation while I was sent to work in a warehouse?
I wanted to ask, but I already knew the answer.
A bitter smile touched my lips.
"Okay, Mom."
No excuses. No arguments.
After dinner, while they packed their suitcases, I cleaned the house.
I did the dishes, swept the floors, mopped the kitchen, and took out the trash.
By the time I finished, the living room was empty.
Just as I reached to turn off the lights, a hand grabbed me from behind.
Brooke yanked my hair, dragging me out onto the balcony.
Pain shot through my scalp, but I clamped my hand over my mouth, terrified of making a sound.
"You really think you're hot shit, don't you?" she hissed, her face contorting in the darkness. "This summer, get the hell out. Go wherever you want, just don't come back to this house. If you pull any more stunts, I swear I’ll destroy you."
Her eyes glowed with cruel malice.
"You worthless bitch, you deserved to get used like that. Didn't those two guys give you a good time last night? Look at you, still standing. Don't even think about running your mouth to your mom. You really think she'll take your side?"
She leaned in, whispering directly into my ear. "Guess what? Did they take a video? Ooh, tough question! Imagine how fun it would be if that video ended up all over the school group chats."
I froze, pure terror paralyzing my limbs.
They had blindfolded me. I hadn't seen their faces, let alone known if they had a camera.
I closed my eyes, drowning in total despair.
Scenes like this happened all the time.
Whenever Brooke was in a bad mood, she would sneak into my room in the dead of night and beat me.
She was careful never to hit my face so my mother wouldn't notice.
Over the years, my body had become a patchwork of scars. Even in the sweltering heat of summer, I never dared to wear short sleeves.
Everyone at school whispered that I was a freak.
Even my mother thought I was an embarrassment.At dawn, I was jolted awake by the sound of crying. Before I could process what was happening, a hand violently dragged me off my cot.
My mother hauled me into the living room, pointing at the shredded dresses inside Brooke’s open suitcase.
"Did you do this?" she screamed.
"Chloe, what kind of monster did I raise? Cutting up someone else's clothes?!"
"You miserable little curse! I worked my fingers to the bone raising you! Even a stray dog wags its tail, but you? You walk around with that dead face every single day! Do I owe you something?!"
My head was spinning. I grabbed the hem of my mother's shirt, shaking my head desperately.
"It wasn't me..."
"It really wasn't me! Why can't you believe me just once?"
Brooke was curled on the floor, weeping softly like a wounded kitten.
"Chloe, I know you hate me, but Eleanor bought those dresses for me with her own hard-earned money. How could you ruin them like this?"
My mother's expression softened instantly as she turned to Brooke, her voice dropping into a gentle hush. "It’s okay, Brooke. Don't cry. Once we get to the resort, I’ll buy you new ones. Even prettier ones."
Then she turned back to me, pointing to the hard, uncarpeted floor in the corner.
"Who else could it be? I saw the way you were glaring at her bags yesterday. You were plotting this all along."
"Go kneel."
Tears streamed down my cheeks in silence. I walked over to the corner and sank to my knees.
The tears hit the wooden floor without a sound.
I looked out the window at the rising morning sun. It looked so warm, yet I felt as if I were trapped beneath a sheet of ice, shivering down to my bones.
At least she didn't hit me this time.
Usually, when I was made to kneel, she would whip me with a plastic hanger.
I was always quiet. I never cried out. Eventually, she would tire herself out and stop.
The next day, she would always cook my favorite meal.
That was her way of offering an olive branch, a silent apology.
But this time, I knelt there for hours, right until they were ready to leave.
My knees had gone completely numb. It took everything I had just to stand up.
I limped after them to the front door as they were getting into the cab.
Before the door closed, I called out.
"Mom... I’m sorry."
Limping forward, I wrapped my arms around her in a brief hug, then stepped back.
My mother froze for a second, looking slightly awkward.
"Don't think hugging me makes this okay."
"Make sure you call Mrs. Davis about that job."
I nodded, watching the cab pull away.
"Goodbye, Mom. This is the last time."Once they were gone, I walked to a boutique down the street and bought a sundress.
My mother used to give me an allowance every week, but Brooke stole most of it.
She called it "protection money." As long as I paid up, she wouldn't beat me as often.
The last fifty dollars I had left was money I had starved myself to save.
After changing into the dress, I looked at myself in the mirror.
The girl looking back had a gentle, soft expression, with faint dimples when she smiled.
It had been so long since I smiled like that.
I actually looked pretty in a dress.
I twirled gently, combed my hair, and braided it over my shoulders.
Before leaving, I picked up my phone.
I dialed my father's number for the very last time. It rang until it went to voicemail.
Then I opened social media. The top post was from my mother.
They had arrived at the historic coastal town. She had posted a gallery of photos with Brooke.
They were leaning close, making goofy faces at the camera, laughing.
I stared at the screen for a long time, a suffocating lump in my throat.
It was so sad. Since I grew up, my mother had never taken a single photo with me.
When the moon rose above the trees, I stepped out the front door.
North of the town was a massive reservoir, an unfinished recreation area with barely any foot traffic.
I walked to the water's edge, gathered several heavy stones, and bound them tightly to my ankles with rope.
I smoothed down my hair and my dress, then took a step into the freezing water.
As the dark, icy depths swallowed me completely, an overwhelming sense of peace washed over me.
No more pain. No more screaming. No more suffocating weight.
I sank smoothly to the very bottom.
When consciousness returned, I found myself drifting upward. Before I could understand what was happening, an invisible force yanked my spirit forward.
When I opened my eyes again, I was floating right beside my mother.
Chapters (6)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Watch & Promotions
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