My daughter wanted a face tattoo—right in the middle of her forehead. I, being a sane mother, stopped her. She listened then, but after she turned eighteen, everything changed. She became a miserable corporate drone, while her old high school friends were becoming TikTok famous and driving Maseratis. She resented me. She was convinced I was the obstacle blocking her path to wealth. The hate festered until today, when she cornered me on the balcony with a knife, intent on stabbing me. I held up one hand to stop her, and with the other, I opened a PowerPoint presentation I’d been compiling since she was a toddler. "Hold on," I said. "Let's look at the receipts." Chapter 1 My daughter, Chloe, is a moron. I’ve known this since she was little. Her favorite hobby is blaming me for her own incompetence. If she got a 50 on a math test, it was my fault for not arranging her breakfast bacon and eggs into a '100'. If her crush rejected her love letter, it was my fault for not buying her Sephora makeup. She has the exact same personality as her deadbeat father. Knowing this kid was a lost cause, I dragged her through college, paid her way, and we made a pact: once she graduated, we were done. No contact, dead to each other. I didn't expect her to show up three years later. She was holding a phone, livestreaming, standing on my balcony surrounded by shattered glass. Her eyes were bloodshot, muttering into the camera: "Mom, if you had just let me be a streamer back then, I’d be driving a Maserati right now." "Mom, you ruined my life. Do you know that? I’ve spent my whole life trying to heal from my unhappy childhood. I am repressed, I am lost, and I am suffocating." The livestream chat was flying by, filled with agreement. [Toxic families are the worst. Parents with no vision really ruin everything.] [Talk about extinguishing a fire before it even starts. RIP your potential.] [Ignorant parents really do delay their kids' lives.] I sighed. As Chloe took a step closer with the knife, I didn't panic. I just reached out a hand to stop her. "Hold on." "Why don't we take a look at the 'Growth Diary' I've kept for you since you were small?" Chloe froze. She hadn't expected this reaction. She glanced at the chat. Seeing that her viewers were curious about what I had documented, she decided to humor me. I opened the file. It was so massive it nearly crashed my laptop. It contained every event, big and small, regarding Chloe. I connected the laptop to a projector and threw the PowerPoint onto the living room wall for her viewers to see. "Mom, you destroyed me! Do you feel zero guilt?" Chloe sat on the sofa with me, burying her face in her hands, sobbing and rambling for the camera. She was really acting her heart out. I ignored it and clicked the first slide. Title: Chloe’s Growth Diary. Subtitle: Evidence for when she inevitably denies reality. The chat exploded. [This feels oppressive. Is she gonna invoice her for every cent spent since childhood?] [No wonder the streamer hates her mom.] [Support the streamer! A woman without maternal love doesn't deserve to be a mother.] I scrolled to the second slide: The Table of Contents. There were over a hundred subheadings. I asked, "Tell me, what exactly are you dissatisfied with regarding your upbringing? Speak up. I'll answer every point." Chloe was shocked by my PPT. It took her a while to stammer out an accusation: "When I was little... we went to Grandma’s house. I broke something, and you slapped me in front of all the relatives." "Do you know how much trauma a slap causes a person?" Chapter 2 The chat immediately started empathizing. [I get it. Once I broke a bowl and my dad nearly broke my arm.] [Don't cry over spilled milk. I wish parents understood this.] I thought Chloe sounded like a braying donkey with her crying. I dug a finger in my ear, then moved the mouse to navigate to that specific page. The slide was dense with text recording the event. Date: February 9, 1997. Lunar New Year, Day 3. Visiting Grandma. Entry: The child insisted on jumping up and down on the wooden cover of the outhouse cesspit. She fell into the shit. She ruined her new clothes, but seeing as she had already swallowed a few mouthfuls of sewage and was crying hysterically, I held back my temper. The chat filled with "Hahahaha." I glanced at my daughter's face. Veins popped on Chloe’s forehead. She slammed her fist on the sofa. "Don't change the subject! Why did you slap me in front of everyone later?" [Almost got distracted by the mom. She's posting her daughter's embarrassing moments just to whitewash herself, right?] [Is it just me, or is this terrifying? Socially executing your daughter with childhood stories.] [Honestly, my heart aches for the streamer. Parents never empathize. No wonder Asian households produce so much depression.] I sighed helplessly and scrolled to the next slide. The text read clearly: We told Chloe to light incense for her late Grandfather. She held the incense and asked why Grandpa had turned into a jar. She asked if Grandpa learned the art of 'Bone Shrinking Kung Fu'. We laughed through tears at her innocent words and didn't think much of it. Later, while we were eating, we heard a loud crash. Chloe had smashed my father's urn. A gust of wind blew through the open door, and my father drifted away in the breeze. He was literally scattered to the winds. She said she 'wanted to see how Grandpa fit inside.' My mother passed out cold on the spot. I walked over and slapped her twice. Damn kid. The chat moved beyond "Hahahaha." [Sis... the fact that you're still alive is proof of a mother's love.] [Just a slap? I would have been beaten to death.] Seeing the tide turning against her, Chloe started wailing. "Were you not at fault too? You guys just brushed me off! You didn't explain it clearly! I was so little, I didn't know what death meant!" The chat, fickle as grass in the wind, swayed back to her. [True, the adults share responsibility. Kids are just curious.] "Fine! Breaking the urn was my fault! But what about the next year? I was helping Uncle chop firewood, and you beat me again! Just because I was the older sister and didn't let my cousin play with the axe?" The chat empathized again. [As an older sister, I was always told to yield to my brother. But I was a kid too!] [Why can't parents ever protect their own children?] I looked at the chat, speechless, then turned to my daughter. "Are you sure you want me to say it?" Chapter 3 Chloe froze for a second, then grit her teeth. "Mom, what else can you twist? If you just apologize to me, I'm willing to forgive you. As long as you stop blocking my streaming career." [Asian parents will spend their whole lives avoiding an apology.] [I'm crying. I've spent my life begging for a 'sorry'.] I smiled. "Since you put it that way, let me help you recall why I beat you that time." Date: January 30, 1998. Lunar New Year, Day 3. Entry: I didn't want to bring Chloe to her grandmother's, but Grandma missed her. This time, we didn't let her near the altar. My brother was chopping wood with a large axe. Chloe wanted to try. My brother pushed her away, saying it was dangerous, and told her to go play. Chloe insisted on helping. My brother refused, saying the logs were too big, but promised she could help with kindling tomorrow. Chloe nodded innocently. I let my guard down and went to the kitchen. Suddenly, I heard my mother scream. I ran out to the yard. My mother had fainted (again). My nephew was wrestling Chloe for the axe. And on the chopping block lay my father's wooden memorial tablet, split perfectly in two. Chloe got a severe beating that day. [Fortune Teller: You have two tribulations after death. Grandpa: Huh?] [Who chops up their grandpa's spirit tablet for firewood?!] My daughter was losing her mind. She cried, snot and tears flowing freely. Just as I was about to ask if I was being too harsh, she looked up, eyes bloodshot. "These were mistakes I made when I was little! But why did you murder my dog, Buster? Just because Dad gave him to me?!" The chat boiled over instantly. This time, they attacked me. [She's venomous. Anyone who abuses pets deserves to be struck by lightning.] [I can't stand this. The mother is psychologically twisted. The daughter's mistakes were childhood ignorance, but the mother is an adult killing animals? That's terrifying.] [I had a pet rabbit once. My mom cooked it and forced me to eat it.] Chloe seemed certain I had no evidence for this. She grabbed my hand, stopping the mouse, and screamed, "Answer me! Don't use your fake evidence to distract everyone! Just answer one sentence: Did you kill Buster? Yes or no!" I looked at my daughter's sad face, seeing the calculation in her eyes. I nodded and admitted it. "Yes, it was me." [Holy sh*t, she admitted it. So gross. Some people are just sick. No wonder the daughter wants to kill her.] [An unhappy childhood really takes a lifetime to heal. The daughter is so gentle, only asking for an apology.] Seeing the support rolling in and convinced I had no proof, Chloe’s voice grew firmer. "Mom, you will always be my mom. As long as you admit you wronged me all these years, and call Dad to apologize to him too, I'm willing to let everything go and live with you again." [The streamer is too kind. A villain like this mom deserves to die, just like the dog she killed.] [So Asian parents only care about grades, not their child's mental health? They don't care about anything except achievement.] [She probably killed the dog because it distracted the daughter from studying. Right in front of her face, too.] Chloe’s eyes were swollen red, snot dripping as she yelled, "Mom, is apologizing to me that hard?" I looked at my suffering daughter, my heart as still as water. [God, look at that cold expression. Is that really a mother looking at her daughter?] [The mom doesn't know how lucky she is to have such a good daughter.] I spoke calmly. "Are you so sure I don't have evidence from back then?" Chloe went rigid. Her voice trembled. "Your so-called evidence is just you typing on a keyboard! You can type whatever you want!" [True. Text evidence isn't convincing. Especially regarding animal abuse, text won't convince me.] [This person isn't fit to be a mother. She's an animal.] I smiled faintly, remembering all the losses I suffered with her deadbeat father because I didn't keep receipts. "Of course I have more than text..." I shook off Chloe's hand and scrolled to Slide 157. A photo of my daughter and the so-called "puppy." The word "puppy" obscured the key information. The "puppy" was actually a massive, aggressive breed, sitting as tall as ten-year-old Chloe. When Buster's photo appeared, the chat jumped. [That... is a puppy? Feels like it could bite my head off.] [Don't be scared guys, that dog eats people and leaves.] I stared dead at Chloe. "Do you want me to repeat why Buster was euthanized?" She dodged my gaze. But thinking of something, she stared back. "Mom, even if Buster chewed up your purse, you didn't have to kill him!" The chat was led astray again. [Big or small, abuse is wrong!] [This woman is scary. A few words and a pic almost swayed me, but the point is she killed a pet!] I looked at my unrepentant daughter and dropped the Hammer. I scrolled to the next slide. Chapter 4 Chloe is shrewd. She assumed that since the incident happened in a small county town years ago, even if it made the news, the records would be gone. She was wrong. If I’m building a chain of evidence, I ensure integrity. Text isn't enough, so I kept the images. I zoomed in on the photo in the PPT. It was a scan of an old newspaper. I moved the mouse slowly to ensure everyone in the livestream could read the text. The bold black headline read: UNLEASHED AGGRESSIVE DOG MAULS INFANT GIRL'S FACE. Below it was a photo of Buster, muzzle covered in blood, staring ferociously at the camera. And a photo of a baby girl, pixelated, but clearly missing a large chunk of flesh from her cheek. I sighed. Even looking at it now, I felt guilt towards that little girl. I had always opposed my ex-husband getting that dog for Chloe. I planned to send it to a friend's farm to be kept in a kennel. But my ex-husband, while I was at work, secretly told Chloe to take Buster out to "prove he wouldn't hurt anyone." And so, the tragedy happened. The next slide showed Buster being euthanized, along with the vet records. [My god. Just euthanasia? If I were that baby's parent, I would have stewed that dog.] [I actually found the article. The auntie isn't lying. She paid for the girl's reconstructive surgery and compensation. The dad who bought the dog went into hiding. Auntie has morals.] [Raising a demon child is exhausting. No wonder she cut contact.] Chloe froze. She hadn't expected me to keep such complete evidence. She panicked for a moment, stuttering, "You... I... You..." Seeing she had nothing to say, the chat turned on her, calling her a plague, a psycho, trying to pin her sins on her "native family." Chloe panicked, but after a moment, her eyes lit up. She found an angle. "Mom, that incident was my fault. But why did you read a boy's love letter to me in front of the whole class?" "Your own daughter is precious, but other people's sons can be bullied by you?" The comment section exploded again. The netizens couldn't sit still. [This mom is insane. That counts as abuse, right?] [Taking back what I said about her morals. Publicly humiliating a child is low no matter the reason.] [Die, b*tch. You deserve your daughter trying to kill you.] Chloe avoided my gaze. I looked at her calmly. "Are you sure you want me to say it?"
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