Part 3The Life Mom Was Meant to Have

This time, I arrived in the story on the very night Mom was attacked.

I froze in midair. Her once-cozy home had been completely trashed, with furniture overturned and scattered everywhere.

Grandma and Grandpa lay on the floor in pools of blood. Mom was pinned beneath Alan, his face twisted with rage.

He slapped her hard across the face. "Still fighting me, huh? Let's see how long that lasts."

18-year-old Mom lay beneath him, tears streaming down her face.

"Help me! Please, somebody help me!" she cried hoarsely.

Rage surged through me. Then I realized I could actually touch things in this world.

I grabbed a broken chair leg and brought it down on Alan's head with all my strength. He never saw it coming.

I hit him once, twice, then a third time. I didn't stop until the back of his head caved in and he collapsed motionless on the floor.

A wave of weakness swept through me.

Mom sat up, stunned, and looked around.

"Was that you? Are you some kind of god? Did you save me?" she whispered.

I looked at her and laughed softly.

The moment she heard my voice, her eyes lit up. "Who are you? I need to thank you."

I knew this version of Mom had never met me before.

"Yes, I'm the one who saved you. I just want you to live a happy life," I said softly.

I paused before adding, "And if you can, don't have children."

The moment I finished speaking, I was ripped out of the book's world.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw a huge scar running across Mom's face. Her eyes were completely lifeless.

"Come eat," she said coldly.

I immediately looked at the book.

Alan was dead, but Mom's fate had only gotten worse. A month later, another man had forced himself on her. He'd been even more brutal and had left her permanently disfigured.

A broken wail tore out of me.

What was I supposed to do? How could I change Mom's fate?

The book hovered silently in front of me, almost as if it were mocking me. No matter how hard I tried, Mom's fate refused to change.

I curled up in my room and cried until my eyes were swollen. But when I finally lifted my head, I was determined again.

There had to be a way. I just hadn't thought of it yet.

"Get out here and eat!"

Mom's furious voice came from the other side of the door.

I climbed out of bed and made my way unsteadily to the table, then stopped in surprise. The table was covered with food, and there was even a whole roast chicken.

I almost couldn't believe it. Mom had never made me a meal this good before. She always said I was a filthy little bastard who didn't deserve food like this.

"Eat."

Mom calmly put a drumstick on my plate.

I hesitated before taking a bite. The rich, savory flavor filled my mouth, and before I knew it, I was wolfing it down. Mom ate with quiet grace across from me.

We were almost done eating when Mom finally looked up at me. Her eyes were as lifeless as ever.

She said softly, "I've been thinking. I must've done something terrible to deserve a life like this. Maybe this is some kind of punishment."

Then I saw blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

Dread shot through me, and I rushed to her side. "Mom! Mom, what's wrong? I'll call an ambulance!"

She smacked my hand away. For the first time, there was a hint of relief in her empty eyes.

"Living hurts too much. I can't keep doing this. I drank pesticide before dinner. I was going to take you with me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So I only poisoned one piece of chicken and left it to chance whether you'd eat it. Guess you got lucky. You didn't."

A bitter smile touched her lips.

"Maybe that's for the best. After I'm gone, someone will adopt you, and you'll get a fresh start. Maybe that's the only way things between us can finally end. One of us has to die."

More and more blood spilled from the corner of her mouth.

I broke down sobbing. "Mom, please don't die! I'm the one who should die. I'm the curse on your life!"

But Mom no longer had the strength to answer. Her body went limp, a faint smile of relief still on her face.

For a moment, I couldn't move. Then, with shaking hands, I pulled Mom into my arms. Tears blurred my vision, but a terrifying clarity cut through the grief.

I stared at the book, then suddenly laughed.

"I know how to save you now, Mom."