Part 2The Life Mom Was Meant to Have

I found myself back at the exact moment I'd first seen Mom.

She was calling for me tentatively. "Sweetheart, are you still there?"

The tenderness in that one word made my heart pound.

I wanted more than anything to stay here forever, with Mom just like this. But the dizziness hit even harder this time.

I hurried to warn her. "Mom, whatever you do, don't go to the party after the entrance exam! You'll get hurt."

Mom froze and frowned slightly. "But I already said I'd go. Everyone else is going. Wouldn't it be weird if I were the only one who didn't?"

Mom was still softhearted at 18, so I forced myself to sound stern.

"You can't go, Mom. If you do, Grandma and Grandpa will die in a fire. You'll rush home, and a bad man will hurt you on the way. Please, Mom, don't go. It'll be the start of a lifetime of misery."

Mom's eyes widened. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly.

I smiled when I saw how serious she was. I'd warned her this time. Surely she'd stay out of that monster's reach.

The next second, everything went black. When I came to, I was back in the real world.

Before I even opened my eyes, I heard Mom shrieking. "You little bastard! If you were going to kill yourself, why couldn't you just die? Why did anyone have to save you?"

My eyes flew open, and I met Mom's wild stare. My heart hammered in my chest.

Why was she even more out of control than before?

Then my gaze dropped to her legs, and I froze. One of them was gone. She'd had both legs before!

I quickly looked at the book only I could see. The passage about Mom had finally changed, but somehow, her fate was even worse.

One line read, "On August 10, Alan Carter breaks into Lizzie Blythe's home. Her parents are killed, he forces himself on her, and her left leg is broken in the struggle."

I stared at the words, barely holding myself together.

Why had Mom's life become even more miserable? Was there really no way to change her fate?

"You little bastard! Stay away from me! Get lost! Get lost!"

Suddenly, Mom grabbed me and yanked me to the floor. Wild-eyed, she snatched up a pair of scissors and slashed my face. Blood ran down my cheek, and I screamed in pain.

Without thinking, I begged, "Mom, I'm sorry. Please stop hurting me."

The doctors nearby quickly restrained her and gave her a sedative. Once she was unconscious, I was rushed to the ER.

As they wheeled me away, I heard people talking nearby.

"Poor kid. Imagine having a mother like that."

"He's the son of the man who forced himself on her. Honestly, she's been merciful enough just letting him live."

Tears slid from the corners of my eyes as I lay on the stretcher. It was all my fault.

I would find a way to save Mom. I had to.

Two weeks later, Mom came to take me home. She was unusually calm and didn't yell at me once the entire way.

But my heart wouldn't stop pounding. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Once we got home, Mom shut herself in her room while I tried to figure out how to save her. Then I thought of Alan Carter. He was the one who hurt Mom both times.

If Alan died, would Mom finally be free?

I took Mom's phone without her knowing and searched the old case online, desperate to find a photo of him.

"What are you doing?"

Mom's cold voice came from behind me. Before I could turn around, a hard shove sent me to the floor.

Mom snatched the phone from my hand. The moment she saw what was on the screen, she flew into a rage. Her eyes blazed as she glared at me.

"Why are you looking up that monster? You ungrateful little brat! Are you trying to find him so he can come back and hurt me again? You filthy little bastard! I should've strangled you when I had the chance!"

Mom punched and kicked me over and over. I curled up on the floor and didn't make a sound, no matter how much it hurt.

I deserved it. If I had never existed, Mom wouldn't have suffered at that man's hands. She wouldn't have lost everyone she loved.

I could still see the smile she'd worn the first time I met her.

That was how Mom was supposed to be. She should've had a happy family. She should've been healthy, gone to college, and married a man who loved her.

Instead, she had no one left. Her mind was in ruins, and she was holed up in a rundown apartment, barely making it through each day.

All she had left was to wait for the story to end so she could finally end her own life.

Eventually, Mom wore herself out. She left me lying on the floor and limped away.

Still trembling, I cut my wrist with a paring knife and returned to the world inside the book.