My mom has Bipolar Disorder. She always has an uncontrollable urge to destroy things. But she's afraid of paying for damages, so she has used me as a cover since I was little. When I was small, she was in a bad mood and smashed the neighbor's vase. When the neighbor found out, she blamed it on me: "Why is this child so naughty, touching other people's things? Don't worry, I'll discipline her properly!" She actually made me kneel on a washboard, leaving my knees full of scars. After starting school, Mom took me to the mall and secretly slashed a leather jacket at a counter. When the salesperson found out, she cried and wailed: "How could I raise such a vandal! I'd rather you have bad grades than bad morals!" The mall made me pay, classmates shunned me, and I got depression and had to drop out. When I grew up and finally married my husband, my mom broke the jade bracelet my mother-in-law gave me on my wedding day. When my mother-in-law found out, my mom threatened to cut ties with me on the spot: "Your mother-in-law treats you so well, why did you do such a thing again?" The video was posted online, and everyone called me a shrew. In despair, I slit my wrists. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment when Mom said I broke the vase. Chapter 1 The sunlight was blinding, and the neighbor Mrs. Zhang's angry questioning was right in my ear. I widened my eyes, looking carefully at my mom: "Mommy, you were the one who threw it down, why do you insist on saying it was me?" As soon as the words fell, the panic on my mom's face instantly turned into an iron-green hue. She lowered her voice, squeezing threats through her teeth: "You little brat, dare to talk nonsense again? I think your skin is itching! I'll tear your mouth when we get home!" I stared at my mom's bloodshot eyes, filled with guilt and anger. These were the eyes that, in my past life, watched me being accused by thousands, watched me kneeling and begging, yet never showed a trace of pity. I used all my strength and bit hard on my mom's palm covering my mouth. She screamed in pain and instinctively let go. I seized this opportunity, using the most innocent, most miserable crying voice, shouting to everyone in the yard: "Mrs. Zhang, I'm sorry! I didn't break the vase! Mommy threw it!" "She saw your new dress just now and said it looked better than hers, so she got angry!" "She also said, why is your yard bigger than ours, she gets angry just looking at it! Then she lifted the vase and threw it with a bang!" "Mommy, why do you lie? Teacher said, admit mistakes when you do wrong, lying is not a good child. If you keep doing this, Nora won't like you anymore!" I deliberately used the most naive, childish way to expose my mom's dark jealousy completely, and then used childish logic to label her a "bad child." A six-year-old child, crying her heart out, looked exactly like a pitiful worm frightened by an unreasonable mother but still struggling to "reason." The following plot was the same as the previous life, but I changed my strategy. I no longer just cried and denied, but clearly listed Mom's previous "destruction records," successfully turning the neighbors against her. Amidst contemptuous gazes, my mom paid all her savings and dragged me home in disgrace. Back home, she slumped on the floor, eyes empty. I thought she would hit me, but she didn't. She just stared dead at the ceiling, muttering to herself: "Why... why do they live in big houses, and I live in a broken building... why..." I knew why she had Bipolar Disorder. Grandpa John and Grandma Betty favored boys over girls, giving all resources and love to my uncle Lucas. My mom, as the eldest daughter, was a sacrifice from childhood. She didn't dare to resist her parents, so that pent-up hatred twisted into a desire to destroy everything beautiful. In my previous life, I hated her, hated why she was crazy, hated why she dragged me down. But now, looking at her red eyes, I suddenly realized. Her illness was forced out by that family; her hatred had an original sin. Every debt has its debtor. Since the root of the illness lies with the patriarchal grandparents and the beneficiary uncle. Then why not—destroy the environment that drove her crazy! I walked over, handed her a glass of water, and gently patted her back. "Mom, don't be angry," I whispered. "Let's not smash neighbors' vases anymore. The neighbors are not wrong; the ones sucking your blood are wrong." My mom froze, a glimmer of light flashing in her turbid eyes. Because Uncle Lucas's son's First Birthday Party was coming up. Chapter 2 Uncle, full name Lucas Liu, was the apple of Grandpa and Grandma's eye, a "Golden Boy" raised on my mom's youth and sweat. On the day of the party, the scene was extremely grand. The hotel was the most luxurious five-star in the city, with fifty tables set. Grandpa John specially wore a dark red Tang suit, standing at the door with a glowing face to welcome guests. Grandma Betty held the chubby grandson not yet weaned, smiling from ear to ear, giving cash gifts to everyone she met. "Oh my, my big grandson is so blessed, definitely material for a high official in the future!" My mom wore a washed-out old coat, shrinking in the corner, looking out of place. I also wore ill-fitting old clothes, holding a red envelope stuffed in my hand for show, which actually contained only two crumpled ten-dollar bills. I sat beside her, looking up at the uncle surrounded by people on stage, and then at my mom, humble as a clown. I wanted to see what this fire suppressed for half a lifetime would burn into. Halfway through the banquet, the host shouted in an exaggerated tone: "Next, please invite our Golden Couple to cut the cake for the lovely baby!" A three-layer giant cake decorated with exquisite chocolates and fruits was pushed onto the stage. Just then, Uncle's wife's mean best friend passed by our corner table with a wine glass. She glanced at my mom, then at me, suddenly covering her mouth and laughing: "Oh my, isn't this Lucas's miserable sister? Why dress like this to a party? Would think you came to beg for food." "Look at that child, silly too, like a little wooden stake." I felt all the muscles in her body tighten, a sign before the storm. I gently pulled the corner of her clothes and said in a voice only we two could hear: "Mom, don't be angry. Getting sick from anger, no one loves you, and you have to spend money to cure it." My mom turned her head, eyes full of bloodshot veins, and a desperate madness. "Nora," she muttered, "Is Mommy useless?" "You are not useless, they are," I said coldly. "Mom, look at that cake, $5,000. That's the amount you saved for five years to scrape together. But they use it as a toy for a doll that can't even speak." "Is it fair?" These three words were like a drop of boiling oil dripping into my mom's red-hot heart. "Unfair... unfair! Why! Why!" My mom's breathing began to quicken. "Then go take it back," I stared at the stage, whispering, "Take back what belongs to you." My mom stood up stiffly. She walked through the crowd, straight to the stage. Before everyone could react, she suddenly stretched out her hands, used all her strength, and pushed hard against that huge cake! Crash—!!! A thunderous noise. The exquisite three-layer cake collapsed instantly. Dead silence in the whole venue. Uncle's smile froze on his face, the baby in his arms cried in fright. Auntie screamed: "Ah! Oh my god! Who... who did this?!" My mom stood in the mess, hands still trembling slightly. She turned to look at me. Then, her shrill wail resounded through the entire banquet hall: "Oh god! Nora! You... how could you do such a thing!" She dragged me to the cake wreckage, pointing at the ground, tears coming instantly, beating her chest and stamping her feet: "You jinx! Are you jealous of your cousin's blessing? You embarrassed your uncle completely! On such an important occasion, you actually pushed over the cake!" Chapter 3 All eyes hit me instantly like spotlights. "This is Lucas's niece, right? Looks honest, why so bad?" "Sigh, heard this child is from a single-parent family, psychology might be a bit twisted." "Pushing over the birthday cake? This is a big taboo, not wanting people to have a good life." Grandma Betty rushed over with an iron-green face, raising her hand to hit me: "Little beast! I knew you were an ungrateful one! Who let you come over? Huh?!" Just as Grandma's hand was about to land on my face, I suddenly spoke. Voice not loud, but exceptionally clear, even with a sneer. "Grandma, don't hit me. Mom pushed this cake." "You are talking nonsense!" My mom screamed, reaching out to cover my mouth again. "Everyone judge! This child has lied since she was little! How could I push my own nephew's cake? I am his real aunt!" "Really?" I looked up, gaze passing her, looking at the uncle beside who was trembling with rage. "Uncle, do you remember? Last night at home, Mom said, this cake costs $5,000, enough for your younger brother's tuition for two years, but you only gave us a two-hundred-dollar red envelope." Uncle's face instantly became very ugly: "You... what are you babbling about!" I ignored him, continuing to speak, voice getting louder and louder, enough for people at surrounding tables to hear: "Mom also said, Grandpa and Grandma secretly sold Mom's gold ring to buy you this suit." "She said, she is not jealous of the cake, she just feels... why is the younger brother the golden grandson, and I am just grass?" Uproar in the venue. Grandpa and Grandma's faces turned pale instantly, like being slapped hard. Uncle's face turned liver-colored. He pointed at my mom, fingers trembling: "Sis! You... what nonsense are you talking to the child! You gave me that gold ring voluntarily!" "Voluntarily?" My mom froze. She didn't expect that instead of dodging the blame, I brought out this old account. But the next second, her pathological defense mechanism activated. She roared hysterically: "Yes! I pushed it! So what?! I can't stand it!" She grabbed an unbroken wine bottle on the table, pointing at Uncle's family and cursing: "Lucas Liu! You ungrateful white-eyed wolf! Who paid for your tuition back then? Who gave the down payment for your marriage house?" "Now you are rich, living in a mansion, but reluctant to give my daughter a decent red envelope!" "Get out! You get out!" Uncle shouted exasperatedly, losing all face. "I get out? I have a share in this hotel too! Why should I get out? You bloodsuckers!" Security rushed up, dragging her away in a flurry. I stood in the mess, looking at Uncle's extremely ugly face. This is just the first step. Chapter 4 The party became the joke of the whole city. Uncle's family was furious, wanting to sue my mom for intentional property damage and have the police arrest her. But my mom had anticipated this move long ago. After being taken to the police station, she didn't resist. Instead, she started a hunger strike and banged her head against the wall, shouting: "I have no money to pay! No money, just a life! I only have this one daughter, arrest me, let this child die!" The police couldn't do anything with this "rascal" plus "Bipolar Disorder," could only criticize and educate, then notify the family to pick her up. Grandpa and Grandma were afraid of losing face, finally had to swallow their pride, paid for the cake, and took my mom back to that dilapidated home. But this didn't end. On the contrary, this was just the beginning of the tug-of-war. From that day on, my mom seemed to have completely opened Pandora's box. She no longer hid her hatred, aiming all spearheads at Uncle's family. Every day after school, she would drag me to squat at the gate of Uncle's newly bought villa. "Nora, look, that's your uncle's house. We paid for it, and now he shuts your mom out like a dog." My mom suddenly became violent, grabbing stones by the road and smashing them hard against Uncle's wall. Bang! Bang! Stones hit the wall, making dull sounds. Soon, the nanny in the villa ran out, pointing at us and scolding: "Who is it! Have any public morality! Calling the police to arrest you!" My mom wasn't afraid, instead more excited. She picked up mud from the ground, smeared it on my face, then shouted at the top of her voice: "Come look everyone! Lucas Liu, this ungrateful man! Abusing his own niece! Denying his own sister!" A circle of people soon gathered around. Uncle drove back. Seeing this scene, his face turned green with anger. He rushed down and kicked my mom: "Do you have any shame! Are you crazy!" "I am crazy! Driven crazy by you!" My mom rolled on the ground, grabbing Uncle's pant leg and not letting go. "Give me money! Give me $50,000! Otherwise I'll make a scene at your door every day! Make you unable to do business!" Uncle is a man who cares about face, especially now that he has just made a name for himself in the circle, most afraid of such messy things. He gritted his teeth, took out a stack of money from his wallet, and threw it hard on my mom's face: "Take it and roll! Don't let me see you again!" My mom picked up the money, a smile of victory on her face. I stood aside, mud still on my face, but eyes cold as ice. This is not enough. This kind of small fight isn't painful enough.
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