1r Gifts
Chapter 10
During my most rebellious and extreme adolescence, I often painfully thought.
What if.
I just died like this.
Would they regret it?
Would my mom shed a tear for me?
Now, I finally knew.
The police finished their sentence..
She responded calmly with a simple “Oh.”
And then hung up.
As if nothing had happened, she opened the door and poured out the seafood, starting to handle the shrimp and crabs.
Perhaps by accident, a shrimp whisker pierced her finger.
She held up her injured finger and went to the living room to get the medicine kit.
It was at this moment that Joshua pushed the door open and
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came in.
He looked flustered and helpless as he gazed at her, his lips trembling: “Mom, Willow, she…”
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“Oh, I just received a scam call saying that Willow was dead.”
My mom was searching for band–aids while saying,
“What a joke. Willow lives her life better than anyone else. Don’t these scammers do any research before making these calls?”
“Mom, it’s not a scam… Willow Jones really did pass away.”
Joshua said in agony, “The police called both me and Dad. Dad is driving home right now.”
My mother’s movement suddenly stopped.
She lifted her head and looked at Joshua.
The sunlight from outside the window fell in, climbing over the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and landing in the eyes that always looked at me coldly.
This inexplicable expression persisted until they boarded the train and headed to the police station thousands of miles away.
My mother was not a person of few words, but she was surprisingly silent all the way.
Vivian held her hand and comforted her in a soft voice, “Mom,
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3/18
the dead cannot be brought back to life. Willow wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
For the first time, my mother ignored her beloved eldest daughter’s words.
She withdrew her hand indifferently.
Vivian stiffened, her eyes showing sadness and resentment.
They walked into the police station.
Two police officers received them.
The older one comforted my mother first before telling her that my body had been found.
“We have done our best to stitch her up, but some of the limbs are missing. According to the suspect’s confession, it’s possible…”
He suddenly stopped talking and a hint of reluctance flashed in his eyes.
My mother looked up at him and asked the first question she had spoken throughout the journey, “It was possible what?”
“Possibly, it was cooked and eaten.”
My mother nodded.
Perhaps her expression was too calm, which was unexpected by
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As we walked away, the younger police officer turned to look at
her twice.
My body parts had already been sewn together and cleaned up.
However, due to the torture I suffered before death, my face and features had become blurred, and my limbs had swollen.
The smell emanating from the corpse was far from pleasant.
At the sight of it, Vivian couldn’t help but cover her mouth, turn around, and run out, leaning against the wall to vomit.
“The suspect, David Wilson, has been wandering around Estremouth for the past two years, committing three nasty murders that involved dismemberment.”
“He specifically targets young women living alone in the city, observing them for a period of time before making a move to ensure that he won’t be discovered.”
“However, this time, the victim Willow’s body was not buried deep, and it was washed out by the rain in Estremouth a few days ago.”
“Someone who was picking mushrooms in the forest found her.”
I remembered.
I remembered why I feel familiar when I saw that man’s face.
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I saw him near the company about a month ago.
On that afternoon, Estremouth was drizzling with fine rain.
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I walked out of the company building and my mom called me, telling me that Vivian’s wedding would be held in a month.
She ordered me to go home.
I couldn’t help but laugh, “I’ve been away from home for half a year, and no one from your family has ever contacted me. Why should I go back now?”
My mom was furious, “Willow, you really don’t know better! This is your home!”
Is this my home?
When I came back, I could only sleep on a small bed next to Vivian’s piano.
When I intentionally took the last chicken wing from the plate, my dad smacked his knife heavily on the table and scolded me for being rude.
When I stained the sofa cover during my period, my mom
looked at me with disgust and ordered me to wash the sofa cover clean.
Is this what a home should be like?
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“Mom, I don’t have a home.”
I finished speaking with a smile and hung up the phone.
In the rain just a few steps away, a man in a black coat was standing there, his face somewhat blurry.
The moment our eyes met, he awkwardly turned away.
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At that time, my chest was filled with bitterness, leaving me with no attention to the unusual passersby.
So.
He had already set his sights on me then.
And after hearing me argue with my mom, he saw me as an easy
target.
The pain from that night seemed to come back again.
This time, the pain fell upon my light and airy soul.
I curled up in the air, feeling as if I was riddled with holes and leaking wind.
It hurt.
More than that night.
But I couldn’t help but lifted my head and stare straight at my mother’s expression.
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At this point, I was still searching.
Will she regret it?
Will she be sad?
Will she feel even 1% of my pain?
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Under the guidance of the police, my mother went to see the perpetrator.
It was said that his motive for committing the crime was straightforward – his ex–girlfriend left him and went away with a wealthy man.
The man also set a trap for him, causing him to lose all his savings.
From then on, he became extremely unstable.
The several victims he targeted, more or less, had some similarities with his ex–girlfriend.
The interrogation room was lit with cold and stern lighting.
With a thin glass in between, he lifted his head and looked at my mother, suddenly grinning.
It seemed like he knew there was no way he could live.
He now just wanted others to suffer with him.
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In front of my mother, he began to recount the details of my death.
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“Accidentally, I let her get hold of the phone and even made at call, but lucky for me, the other end hung up.”
“Did she call you?”
“Your daughter looked so beautiful when she cried and looked. even more like that bitch… So, I peeled off her face.”
“She was in so much pain that she couldn’t even shed tears, but she kept calling for her mom.”
The police sternly shouted, “Enough! You are not allowed to provoke the victim’s family!”
My mother just stood there, in front of the glass.
Her back remained straight, and her eyes stared straight at the
killer.
She didn’t speak, nor did she shed a tear.
I was floating in front of her, facing her.
She couldn’t see me.
She couldn’t hear me either.
I said, “Mom, I hate you.”
Chapter 10 That night.
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The night I was violated and then dismembered while still alive, I experienced the most extreme pain that a human being could
endure.
Blood gushed out, staining my vision completely red.
A beast–like desperate roar came from my throat.
The sound of wind and insects blew through.
Dry leaves rustled down.
Fungi grew on damp wood.
Countless noises blend together to form a drumbeat, ringing in
my cars.
Deafening.
I had been calling out.
Mom.
Mom!!
Mom, it hurts so much.
Save me, Mom. Help…!!
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When humans feel the most desperate and helpless, they instinctively call out for their mother.
Hoping that perhaps a miracle will happen.
However, it never does.
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You were lying in your warm bed at home, having a good dream.
You dreamt that your beloved eldest daughter Vivian had got married and was living a happy life.
You dreamt that Joshua was in a stable relationship with the girl. he was hitting on, and he was attending a very good university, studying a popular major that would definitely lead to a good job after graduation.
I was never there in your dreams.
After leaving the police station, they went to my rental house to collect my belongings based on the address found by the police.
I had been living here since graduation, working and living for a full two years.
They had never been there before.
Sitting in the car, my mom suddenly called out, “Vinny.”
Vivian looked at her nervously, her eyes betraying her guilt.
“Did Willow call you before she died?”
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Vivian opened her mouth, but couldn’t find the right words to respond.
Normally quick–witted, she couldn’t come up with a good reason
now.
“I have to wake up at 4 am to do my makeup. I went to bed carly…maybe I accidentally hung it up in my dream,” she finally
said.
She shed a few tears, making her sadness seem genuine.
My mother nodded and fell silent.
It seemed like a casual question.
That was about right.
Whenever she called Vivian, it would always be the intimate. “Vinny“.
When she called me, however, there was only a distant and indifferent use of my full name.
I sat in the car for a long time, gradually recovering from the pain of near death just now.
There were tiny teardrops in the corners of Vivian’s eyes.
Vivian, was their wish for their first child to be healthy and
vibrant.
Joshua, was praying to God to bless their little boy.
And my name
My name…
–
Less than 24 hours after my birth, my twin brother stopped breathing.
The doctor said that the fetus had poor development in the mother’s womb, which led to organ failure.
Beside the hospital bed, an old lady shared her experience, “This kind of situation must be caused by another baby taking away the nutrition of this one. I have seen it during my years of delivering babies in the countryside. Look at your daughter, she is growing so well.”
My mother leaned against the bedside, looking at me with resentment and confusion.
She still hadn’t given me a name when I turned one month old.
It wasn’t until Granny called that she finally did.
“The willow tree in front of our old house was growing perfectly this year. Let’s name the baby Willow.”
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13/18 Dad checked this name in a book and decided that Willow wast a fitting name. It symbolized mourning for the deceased. And now, as long as I was alive, I would be mourning for my twin brother’s death.
The car was silent.
Joshua broke the silence.
He said somewhat uncomfortably, “I didn’t expect Willow Jones to have such bad luck…”
My mom suddenly turned to look at him and asked, “What did you call her?”
Joshua was taken aback.
He usually called Vivian by “Vinny” or “sis“, and called me by my whole name.
In our family, there was an unspoken agreement that allowed him to call me with that kind of disrespect.
“Willow Jones is your sister. Your dad and I can call her that, but it’s impolite for you to address her by her whole name.”
Joshua had been spoiled since he was a child, so my mom’s sudden reprimand left him at a loss.
In the end, he could only awkwardly touch his nose and ask, “Mom, are we going to bring my sister’s ashes back?”
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My mom gave him a cold glance and didn’t say anything.
My rental house was not very tidy.
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There was a one–bedroom apartment that was 30 square meters in size, with a sofa and a coffee table next to the bed..
On the coffee table, there was half of a leftover grapefruit that. had already shriveled up.
A blanket was draped over the sofa, and there are many books scattered haphazardly on the floor.
Joshua had a slight obsession with cleanliness.
It was obvious that he wanted to say something, but after glancing at my mother, he ultimately remained silent.
My mom picked up a book randomly, and it was on psychology.
She paused for a moment, flipped through a few pages, and then. her fingers suddenly tightened.
The two chapters on self–destructive tendencies and the role of the family in mental illness were marked with many lines by me.
These pages were loose and easy to flip to, indicating that they had been read many times.
She opened the drawer of the small cabinet next to her.
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15/18
There were my hospital records and the conversation notes with
the psychologist.
Several empty medicine boxes.
Underneath, there was a small stack of airplane and train tickets.
Most of them were for popular coastal tourist cities.
The small room was crowded with four people, and everyone could feel that a heavy and sticky atmosphere was pressing down on them, silently enveloping them..
Vivian couldn’t take it anymore.
She pointed to the plane ticket to Hawaii on top and said in a forced cheerful tone, “Well, at least Willow had a good time before she left.”
“She’s been to more places than we have.”
This was one of the many tactics she used against me before.
She would casually mention in front of my family that I always felt happier without them, ad that I was always kind to outsiders but would become hysterical and tense in front of them.
This was to prove my indifference and ruthlessness.
But today, this trick suddenly didn’t work anymore.
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My mother suddenly turned and stared at her with a terrifyingly
cold gaze.
“Mom…”
As soon as Vivian uttered this word, a heavy slap landed on her
face.
She was dazed by the blow.
Dad, who always doted on Vivian, quickly came over to protect her and frowned, saying, “What’s the point of hitting your own child? Let’s talk things out.”
My mother was holding the record of my conversation with the therapist in her hand.
– When did you start this kind of self–harm behavior?
– In middle school.
– You mentioned that you lack a sense of belonging in your family and feel that you are the outcast. Why would you feel this way?
When I was five, my sister said I should die with my twin brother. If it weren’t for me, she would be the only child and receive all of Mom and Dad’s love. My mom also said I was born bad and it was me that caused my brother’s death.
– Do you frequently have suicidal thoughts? Is there anyone in your family who…
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Her lips trembled as if gradually enveloped by some belated pain.
“You are so docile in front of us…” Her voice was filled with confusion, “What evil things have you been telling Willow behind my back?”
Dad disapproved and said, “Willow was never a good omen. Vinny didn’t say anything wrong.”
“Shut up!”
My mother screamed sharply, her face turning an abnormal
shade of red.
Joshua was worried about her health and quickly went over to support her, saying, “Dad, you know Mom has heart disease!”
“Willow is already dead! Leave Vinny out of this!”
My father’s eyes widened.
Vivian seemed to be stunned by the slap.
She looked at my mom for a while, then suddenly showed a sweet but malicious smile, like a flower that exuded venom from every petal.
“Mom, don’t you remember? I was still young and didn’t know anything back then. It was you who told me that Willow killed my little brother.”
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Joshua was furious, “Vivian! How dare you talk to Mom like
that!”
They stood facing each other in two distinct camps, each had
taken their side.
In my cramped room, they argued and blamed each other for my death.
I floated above the couch, watching it all absentmindedly.
Until the doorbell rang.
