Lost Dream Reclaimed

Navigating the bustling streets of L.A. on Mother’s Day, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy as I observed the joyous celebrations around me. For most people, this day was a time to honor and cherish their mothers, but my reality was starkly different. I am the eldest in my family. My brother, Walter, is my mother’s favorite, and Ella is the baby of the house. Today was supposed to be a day for mothers to feel loved and appreciated. They bring children into the world and hold families together—they deserve to be celebrated. Despite my strained relationship with my mother, I wanted to make an effort. "We need to celebrate Mother," I said to Ella. “You're right, Turner. What's your plan?” Ella responded, her innocent enthusiasm infectious. “I have some money saved from my part-time job. How about we buy her beautiful shoes and a cake?” “Great idea, sister! Let’s do it,” she agreed. I headed to my room to change my dress. “Ella, I’m leaving. Please tidy up before I get back,” I said. I returned home with the cake and the shoes, feeling a rare sense of accomplishment. “Welcome,” said Ella, taking the cake from me and placing it on the table. “What is going on here?” Dad interrupted. “We planned this for Mother, since it’s Mother’s Day today,” I said with a smile. When Mother walked through the door, she was surprised to see everyone gathered in the sitting room. “Surprise… Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! We appreciate you for being a good and loving mother to us. Thank you for being the best mother in the world.” Father also celebrated her for being the best wife. Mother was happy until she found out that I had arranged the surprise. Her expression turned cold and sharp. She called me over, as if to give me a hug, but instead, she slapped me painfully and pushed my face into the cake, covering it with icing. She threw the shoes at me and started comparing me to our rich neighbor's children, berating me for not getting her expensive gifts. Then, she stormed out angrily. I went to the balcony to comfort myself, but I couldn’t control my tears. Ella joined me, trying to console me. After a while, Father came, patted my back, and handed me a handkerchief with my name embroidered on it. “What have I done wrong? What’s my offense? What did I do to deserve this kind of treatment?” I sobbed. Since I was born, I’ve never felt Mother’s love. She maltreats me all the time and makes me question my existence. I cried myself to sleep that night. Father and Ella love me so much and do everything in their power to make me happy. I’m blessed to have them. To me, they are my only family because Mother detests me and loves Walter, my brother. Walter is her favorite child, and she would go to any length for him. I feel so useless and unwanted around them. Ella and Father are my only hope. On Monday, the 13th of May, I woke up and checked the time. “I’m late!” I exclaimed, rushing to the bathroom. After getting ready for school, I met Father on my way out. He handed me a cup of coffee. “You can't go to school on an empty stomach,” he said. I chuckled, took the coffee, and thanked him. He dropped me off at school before heading to work. He is a special investigator, determined to fight for the weak and bring corrupt politicians to justice. I headed to class, where Mrs. Brown was already teaching. “How are you, Turner? Please have a seat,” she said. The class was interactive and fun. Soon after, Brandon, our family friend and my brother’s close companion, approached me. Because of his friendship with Walter, Brandon and his friends always bullied me. Today was no different. He hit my table and made his friends mock me, narrating how my mother rejected the cake and shoes I bought with my hard-earned money. I felt depressed. When your family turns against you, who would be willing to be your friend? I wondered, trying to hide my emotions and hold back my tears. I walked out of class and went to the toilet to cry. After wiping my tears, I returned to class, grabbed my bag, and went home. “Good day, Mother. I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,” I said, but she didn’t respond. Walter laughed loudly from his seat. I went to my room to change for my part-time job, eager to leave the house. “No place like home,” they say, but for me, home is like hell. Ready to go to work, I realized my wallet was missing. “Did I take it to school?” I wondered, searching my school bag but finding nothing. “Walter, did you see my wallet, please? I might have left it on the table,” I asked. “Do you mean this?” Walter said, stretching his hand to give me the wallet. I took it and opened it, but there was no money inside. “Walter, where is the money in my wallet?” I asked angrily. “I took it,” Walter responded. “This is all I have! Why would you take my money?” I shouted. “Don’t yell at my son,” Mother said, moving close to give Walter a warm hug. “Do you treat me like this because you’re my mother? I can’t believe it,” I said, on the verge of tears. “She is your mother,” Father interrupted. “How much was in the wallet? I’ll give it back.” He handed me some money for transportation and gave me a warm hug. I rushed to work immediately. “Good day,” I greeted my colleagues, dropping my bag in my locker to start work. We had many customers waiting. Then I noticed blood on my hands and clothes. I gasped, realizing it wasn't mine. What do I do?