I scrolled through a parenting blogger's video: "Usually, when I want to check her diary or look through her chat history, she acts like I'm asking for her life!" "But ever since I became her online boyfriend, she's been telling me all her little secrets!" The comments section was full of people pitying the daughter and criticizing the blogger for being too controlling. I was still feeling fortunate that while my mom was controlling, she hadn't become this twisted. Suddenly, the special effects mask on the blogger's face fell off. That blogger was my mom! She was proudly sharing: "When my daughter goes to college, I'll become her dorm supervisor. When she gets married, I'll buy a house right across from hers..." My world came crashing down. Since I couldn't escape my mom's control while alive, I might as well not live at all. After sending her one final message: "Today, I'm going to give you my most important thing." I slowly walked into the bathtub and slit my wrists with a knife.
Warm, sticky blood dripped down my arm into the bathtub. A heavy metallic smell filled the air. After the burning, sharp pain came coldness and numbness spreading through my entire body. My vision began to blur. I used my last bit of strength to turn on the faucet, hoping to leave with some dignity. In the last moment before I closed my eyes completely, I heard angry shouting from outside the door. "A woman's most important thing is her virginity, isn't it?" "She even messaged me saying Mom isn't home, then gave me the door code." "Friends, how else am I supposed to interpret that?" My soul floated up into the air, and I saw the phone on the bathroom counter, still livestreaming. The netizens in the livestream were frantically trying to stop my mother: [If you want her dead, just kick open that door right now, point the camera at your daughter's face, tell her the whole world knows she's dating someone and about to give her first time to an online boyfriend. When she sees your face, let's hope she doesn't jump from the 34th floor.] Others chimed in agreement. [Your daughter only agreed to date you after she turned 18 on the SAT, and only because you deliberately manipulated her to find out her secrets. Is it possible that what she meant by "most important thing" isn't what you think it is?] [Have you considered that you control her too much, which is why she doesn't dare tell you her secrets and has to trust strangers online instead?] When I was in elementary school, my mom secretly installed cameras in my room. If I so much as stretched, she'd immediately rush in with a feather duster. "Your dad and I live apart so he can make money. I gave up my career for you. How can you treat us like this?" By middle school, my mom didn't just control my words and actions—she wanted to control my thoughts, preferences, even my taste buds. She forced me to eat durian, which I found disgusting. "This smells so good! Where's the stink?" But when I said a grape tasted sweet, she flew into a rage. "Do you have no taste buds? This thing is so sour—where did you taste any sweetness?" In recent years, my mom became obsessed with preventing me from dating. She'd often sneak looks at my phone while I slept, checking my photos and Twitter. I'd frequently thought about ending it all. Until I connected with that boy online whose username was "Light." I could share all my frustrations with him without burden. He became my reason to keep living. Only now did I understand. Why every little secret I told "Light"... My mom would somehow "accidentally" discover shortly after. I should have guessed! Faced with the netizens' accusations, my mom broke down in tears on camera. "Why is everyone blaming me! What did I do wrong? If I really did something wrong, could I have raised a daughter who got into Harvard?" "You should be grateful it was me! If it had really been some gang member, he would have scammed her immediately!" My mom forcefully opened the door and pointed her phone at the living room. Empty. After a moment of confusion, she heard water running in the bathroom and roared furiously. "So you really are fooling around with a man! You even know to shower before sex?!"
Deadly silence. Even as a spirit, my face burned with shame. My mom laughed coldly. "What? Disappointed to hear my voice? Too scared to make a sound now?" "Are you hiding in there texting your boyfriend to tell him not to come?" "No need to text—because I AM your boyfriend!" "I'm giving you ten minutes to get dressed and come out here and explain to me what you meant by 'most important thing.'" "Otherwise don't blame me for opening this door and letting all the netizens see what kind of person you really are!" "Once everyone sees you naked, you'll never find a man for the rest of your life." I felt as if someone had slapped me hard across the face, filled with shame and frustration. My mom seemed even angrier than me, breathing heavily as she paced back and forth. The clock ticked on, second by second. The netizens, who'd been too shocked to comment, became active again. [If my mom talked to me like that, I'd tear the house down. This girl has way too much patience.] [Something's not right! After hearing such shocking news, there's no way the girl would be completely silent, right?] [Yeah, did something happen?] My mom snapped irritably. "Happen? What could happen to her!" "If anyone's going to have a problem, it'll be me—I'm the one being driven to death here!" As soon as she said this, my mom suddenly seemed to think of something and strode into my bedroom. She violently tore off my blanket and pulled out a sundress, shouting loudly. "If you don't come out, I'll tear up this dress you've been hiding!" I cried out "No!" but of course my mom couldn't hear me. I could only watch helplessly as she smiled viciously and cut my dress to pieces. Looking at the scraps on the floor, I couldn't describe what I felt. My mom didn't allow me to wear dresses. She told me that school was for studying, not for attracting attention. So for eighteen years, even on the hottest summer days, I could only wear long sleeves and pants. Every summer, I could only watch enviously as other girls dressed up beautifully. So I secretly saved up a year's worth of allowance to buy myself a dress as a coming-of-age gift. I didn't dare tell my mom. I only shared my joy with "Light." But now it was all gone. After destroying my dress, my mom still wasn't satisfied. She threatened me again. "If you don't come out, I'll tell the netizens all the secrets you told 'Light'!" I couldn't stop her, and there was nothing I could do. Whatever, it didn't matter anymore. And so my bedroom was turned upside down. My mom continued mocking me to the livestream. "She's really gotten bold today, daring not to come out even after all this." "Do you know what lie she told me so I wouldn't burst in to check her body while she was showering?" "She told me her uncle once rushed into the bathroom while she was showering and touched her inappropriately, so now she gets triggered when someone comes in while she's bathing!" The livestream viewers were once again shocked. [I don't believe such an excellent girl would joke about something like that.] [My God, it took so much courage for her to tell you that, and you mock her and broadcast it so casually. Are you even her mother?] [Shut up already! If her classmates or teachers hear about this, how can she face anyone?] [Whether this is true or not, you burst in to check her body while she's showering? Is that even human?] My mom scoffed at these comments. Her patience completely exhausted, she strode to the bathroom door. She put her hand on the doorknob and twisted hard.
I'd habitually locked the door, so my mom couldn't open it. Unable to find the key, she angrily turned to get a hammer. Suddenly, someone came home. It was my dad! He rushed in excitedly, both hands full of gifts. "To celebrate my daughter getting into Harvard, I specially took time off to come home!" "Are you happy?" I circled around my dad, clapping excitedly. "Happy! So happy! I'm always happiest when Dad comes home!" Dad's work kept him very busy—he could only spend a few days at home each year. Sometimes he wouldn't come home even once a year. But every time Dad came home, he'd bring me wonderful things. And Mom would restrain herself, giving me a few rare days of peace. When Dad showed no reaction, I instantly deflated. I'd almost forgotten he couldn't see me. After the initial excitement, I remembered my situation and suddenly panicked. I didn't want Dad to see my gruesome death. Not seeing me, Dad asked Mom in confusion. "Where's Alice? And why are you holding a hammer?" Mom rolled her eyes irritably. "We had a few words, and she locked herself in the bathroom." "I can't even use the toilet. I must have owed you two in my past life." Dad immediately became serious. "You didn't force Alice to do something she didn't want to do again, did you?" Mom looked slightly guilty. I'd told on her once before, and after Dad left that year, Mom punished me severely. So I never dared complain again, and Dad assumed Mom had changed. Mom blustered. "That was so long ago, and you keep bringing it up. What's the point?" "She threw a tantrum for no reason, and somehow that's my fault!" Dad couldn't say much more. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door. "Alice, I'm home. I brought you chocolate and a pretty dress." "Come out, okay?" After speaking, Dad sat on the sofa with his gifts. He sat up straight with a smile on his face, occasionally glancing back toward the bathroom. Ready to give me my presents at the first opportunity. I knelt helplessly before Dad, bowing repeatedly. "Dad, I was wrong. I was really wrong." "Please, just leave, okay?" "I really don't want you to see me at my ugliest." "I don't want to scare you!" But Dad couldn't see me. His attention shifted to the phone on the coffee table. A message popped up in the building's group chat. [Who in Building 4, Unit 3 is murdering someone in their bathroom? There's such a strong smell of blood leaking through my floor!]
We lived in Building 4, Unit 3. So Dad picked up his phone and cheerfully shared the gossip with Mom. "Someone in the group says there's been a murder in our building." "Before I came home, were the neighbors on the seventh floor beating their kid? Everyone's saying there was noise but then it went silent, and they suspect the kid was killed." "These people really have wild imaginations." Mom casually set down the phone that was still livestreaming in a corner. Then she picked up Dad's phone and started sending voice messages. "Kids have self-respect when they grow up. You can't just hit them all the time. Educating children requires proper methods. We should become friends with our children, connect with them emotionally, and guide them in positive directions." People who didn't really know my mom only vaguely knew she used to be a teacher, so they eagerly agreed. [Teachers really are more educated. That's very well said.] [Auntie is so reasonable. I wish you were my mom.] My mom glanced toward the bathroom and sighed meaningfully. "See, you saw the messages in the group." "Everyone envies you for having a mom like me—only you don't appreciate it!" Watching my mom's performance made me sick. The neighbors continued their heated discussion. The woman from the seventh floor suddenly spoke up. [Nonsense! My kid just spilled the soup I made. If you don't believe me, I'll beat him again so you can hear.] [That's strange then.] [I'm on the second floor and there's backflow—it's red, RED!] [I'm calling the police!] Everyone was suddenly alarmed. After waiting a few more minutes, Dad began to worry. "What if something happened to Alice?" "It's not appropriate for me to go in. Why don't you check on her?" My mom crossed her arms. "I'm not going!" Watching the joy on Dad's face turn to worry, my heart ached. Dad walked anxiously to the bathroom door. "Alice, even if you don't want to talk to Mom and Dad, can you at least tap on the bathtub?" Suddenly, the constantly vibrating phone fell from the counter with a loud crash. Mom roared furiously. "See! This is what you've spoiled her into! Not coming out is one thing, but now she's throwing tantrums at us!" Dad sighed, turned back to calm Mom down, and occasionally rubbed his chest. "But my heart... I just can't shake this bad feeling!" As they argued, the doorbell rang. Two police officers stood outside. They routinely checked every household's bathroom. After getting no response from me, the police forcibly broke down the door. When they saw what was inside, everyone present was shocked. Mom sat down hard on the floor, her face full of panic and disbelief. Dad's legs gave out and he collapsed to his knees in front of the bathroom, letting out a piercing scream.
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