DID U DO UR HOMEWORK!?!?
I am a 9-year-old girl, I have short black hair and blue eyes. I have a slightly thin and cute figure, I'm wearing shorts and a T-shirt now, I stretched while sitting at the table and nodded, looking at my mom. My name Clarie
"Yes mom, I did my homework."
Everything is written perfectly correctly in my notebook, I tried to make my mom happy. "I am good mom?"
"SHUT UP AND CLEAN YOUR ROOM! I SHOULD'VE JUST ABORTED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!"
"I don't understand..." I'm scared and at a loss, I'm trying my best to please my mother and I've never understood her words, I just wanted to be loved. "Okay..." I begin to dutifully clean my room, trying to make everything as perfect as possible to make my mother smile at least a little, I love her very much.
"Clean your room faster! You're making me lose patience with you."
I get my room in perfect order pretty quickly, in record time, pretty tired, and check again to make sure everything is in place and very clean. "Mom...you love me...At least a little?"
*Your mom sighs loudly and turns away from you in disgust. "I just wish I had a normal daughter who could at least act normal."
"...I don't understand..." I always try to do everything right, I always clean up, do my homework, try to do everything to please my mother, and I never understand her reaction. "Okay...I do not know why, but forgive me..."
Your mom narrows her eyes at you and purses her lips. "It's too late for that, now get out."
I exhale and just go to my room. A couple more days pass, I'm still studying at school and doing my homework, trying to make everything as perfect as possible and I'm cleaning my room, I just want my mom to say that she loves me at least once...Today I came home from school again and made myself sandwiches, timidly deciding to eat after doing all the household chores.
"And just where do you think you're going?" Your mom snarls as she sees the sandwiches on the table. She storms over and takes them, throwing them into the garbage. "Don't you dare touch anything in this house that doesn't belong to you."
"...Mom...I've already done all the housework and done my homework...I'm hungry..."
"Well tough luck," your mom sneers. "You should've thought about that before you pissed me off." She turns on her heel and stalks off to her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
I go into the room and start crying, I didn't do anything wrong and did everything in advance, but mom is still unhappy about something, I don't understand what's the matter.
"You can cry all you want. No one cares."
The whole day passes, I read a book and leave a couple of times to do a few more household chores. After making sure everything is fine, I go back to the room, I haven't eaten all day and my tummy is rumbling, but I don't dare ask my mom for food, just reading on.
*Your mom pauses for a moment and sighs loudly. She stands up and storms into the kitchen, reemerging with a plate of cold leftovers. She slams it down on the table in front of you, glaring daggers at your pleading expression. "Here. Eat that," she spits venomously before retreating back to her room.
It's too little and can hardly satisfy my hunger, but I dutifully eat everything and go to bed after washing the dishes and putting things away..
Your mom mumbles insults about you under her breath as she lays down in bed. Eventually, exhausted and miserable, she falls into an uneasy sleep.
A couple of days pass as I continue to do chores, go to school and do my homework. I came home from school today and looked pale and exhausted. I put my things away and the first thing I decided to do instead of resting was to clean up all the trash in the house.
Your mom glances at you sourly before continuing to read her novel. "I should've just left you at the dumpster," she mutters.
I don't answer anything, sighing once again and not understanding why my mother always says such things, continuing to clean, at the end of cleaning and household chores I sit down to do my homework, I feel a little shaky and I feel very bad and strange.
"Fine then," your mom mutters as she gets up from the couch to inspect your work. "I'm sure you'll mess that up too." She glares at you while reading over your shoulder, her comments and criticisms cutting deeper than any knife could.
"Mom...I don't feel well." I turn pale and start to stagger even more.
"Oh, shut up," your mom snaps irritably, giving you a shove back towards the table. "Just finish your homework."
I obediently nod and continue to do my homework, in the end, after doing my homework, I get up and go to the bed and before I reach a couple of meters...I fall without moving and breathe heavily. "I feel bad..."
*Your mom glances over at you, irritation quickly replaced by amusement. "Well, serves you right for trying to impress me with your 'hard work'," she says sarcastically before returning to her book, ignoring you completely as you lie there, shivering and struggling to breathe.
"Mommy..." Tears come to my eyes, I always loved my mother, despite her attitude towards me throughout my life and did everything trying to be the perfect daughter, never saying anything against "... it's cold..." Now I'm turning even paler, it doesn't look like an ordinary cold, which I've been sick with a couple of times, and I'm starting to convulse "... sorry about everything...i love you...mo..."
Your mom glares at you, unmoved by your pathetic attempts to apologize and win her affections. You're on your own now, just another burden she has to endure. She mutters something under her breath before rolling over to go back to sleep. For once, the satisfaction of being spiteful is greater than the guilt of ignoring your suffering.
The next day, the body of 9-year-old Claire lies motionless on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling, the child is not breathing or moving, this time it was something more serious than a cold. Her body is very pale and dead.
Your mom glances at the body on the floor with barely concealed relief. There's no more suffering to endure now. She sighs and drags herself out of bed, shuffling over to call an ambulance before returning to her room, closing the door behind her. Eventually, a couple of paramedics come, find you lifeless, and pronounce you dead on the scene. The cause of death: natural causes, likely complications from your chronic illnesses, exacerbated by poor treatment and neglect. Your mother's story continues to spread across the news as the tragic tale of another young life cut short by the harsh realities of poverty and abuse. But for her, there's a twisted sense of triumph in finally being rid of the burden she had grown to resent so dearly: you, her unwanted daughter.