Chapter 2

I was plagued by all sorts of illnesses from the moment I was born, including heart disease, kidney problems, liver issues, and joint pain.

My medical records were stacked taller than I was, and even the most experienced doctors called me a medical miracle.

The only reason I survived was because of Laurel.

To pay for my treatments, she'd get up at three in the morning to make breakfast and sell it on the street. During the day, she worked as a waitress and cleaner at a restaurant, and at night, she'd stay up late making crafts to help cover our bills.

Any free time Laurel had, she devoted to looking after me.

She knew my illnesses like the back of her hand and even taught herself all sorts of medical stuff. I could say she was almost a doctor.

Because of all my health problems, I was always way skinnier and weaker than other kids my age.

I had no hair, no teeth, my joints were badly deformed, and my skin was so pale I looked like a walking corpse. My appearance was downright bizarre. P5 eople thought I was a total freak.

I hated going outside. I couldn't stand the way people stared at me, like I was some alien or something that didn't belong in their world.

But Laurel would take me out for a stroll in my wheelchair almost every day.

She always insisted that a little sunshine was just what I needed.

One time, when Laurel took me out, someone took a photo of me and posted it online.

My shocking looks instantly grabbed the attention of people all over the internet.

With the media digging into our story, Laurel and I suddenly found ourselves in the spotlight.

From then on, the internet started calling Laurel, who had poured her heart and soul into caring for me, the "angel mom."

The kindness from strangers online flooded into our home, bags of groceries, clothes for every season, and generous donations of money.

The dress that Laurel ruined in the wash was just one of those gifts from caring people on the internet.

Just then, the young cop sent to deliver the news gave me a disgusted once-over.

Then he said, "Because this case has blown up online, the bosses decided to make her trial public."

I was tied up in the defendant's seat.

Dozens of cameras were pointed right at me, streaming everything live online.

Even before things kicked off, the audience was already fuming with anger.

A person said, "You monster. You killed your own mother. You're going straight to hell!"

Another said, "God, she's hideous. They say your looks reflect your soul, and now I totally believe it!"

Someone else said, "Why bother with a trial? Just execute her already!"

*****

The judge, Garrick Hayward, banged his gavel, frowning as he called for silence. "Quiet! Let the trial begin."

In court, I confessed without hesitation to stabbing Laurel 5to death with a pair of scissors.

Garrick's expression was pure disbelief as he stared at me.

"All because of a dress?" he asked.

I nodded, smiling. "That's right. She ruined my dress, so she had it coming!"

The crowd was seething with anger, and suddenly, someone threw a shoe at me. It nailed me right in the head.

Blood immediately started trickling down my face.

I couldn't care less. I just sneered back, totally unfazed.

I sneered, "I killed my mom, not anyone else. What gives you the right to judge me?

"I never asked her to give birth to me. She died by my hand, so isn't that her own fault?

"She spent twenty years taking care of me? Seriously? She did it because she wanted to. I didn't make her do it. Why are you all making such a fuss over her?

"If she could crawl out of her grave, she'd probably just forgive me because she feels sorry for me!"

My words sent the whole courtroom, and everyone watching online, into a frenzy of rage.

On the live stream, a barrage of angry comments from viewers practically covered the entire screen, flying by so fast it was a total blur.

Maybe that shoe set things off, because after that, people in the audience started furiously chucking anything they'd managed to sneak into the courtroom, stinky socks, water bottles, belts, even cell phones, straight at me.

Basil shielded me, raising his voice to the crowd.

He said, "Even if her crimes are unforgivable, the law will punish her. The trial's not even over yet, so none of you get to lay a finger on her!"

Garrick banged his gavel. "Order! Next, we'll call the witnesses to the stand to shed more light on the truth of this case."

The first witness to take the stand was Louise Harvey, our neighbor.

She totally lost it, stormed over and spat a thick wad of phlegm right in my face.

She screamed, "Cynthia, you animal.

"Cynthia, your mom put so much thought into your name, and you turned around and killed her. You're heartless!"

Basil quickly pulled her away and ushered her to the witness stand.

Louise's tears were streaming down her face as she glared at me with bitter hatred, then began to speak, her voice trembling as she recounted everything in detail.

Louise said, "I've lived next door to Laurel for over twenty years. I know her family inside out.

"Back before Cynthia was born, her parents both had good jobs, and they were really close. Everything was going well for them.

"But once Cynthia was born, everything turned upside down.

"Laurel was constantly getting beaten by her husband, just because she refused to abandon her frail, sickly daughter.

"One time, I saw Cynthia's dad go completely berserk, brandishing a kitchen knife and threatening to kill Laurel, all to try and force her to abandon Cynthia.

"But even after all that, Laurel managed to pull through. After she divorced her husband, she quit her job without hesitation and started picking up part-time gigs and odd jobs, just so she could spend more time taking care of Cynthia."

At this point, Louise glared at me with utter disgust.

She said, "I've got video evidence that proves Laurel took care of Cynthia in every possible way.

"She was an angel. Her only mistake was raising this demon!"

The video was played right there in court.

In the video, I was sprawled out on the bed, my body twisted from all the deformities.

Behind me, people could see our chipped white walls and battered old furniture.

Our cramped little room was filled with neighbors.

They were all discussing my condition and figuring out how to help with donations.

Suddenly, Laurel sniffed the air, her nose wrinkling.

"Cynthia, did you poop?" she asked.

She immediately pulled back my blanket and, with the skill of someone who'd done it a thousand times, cleaned me up and swapped out my adult diaper.

To make things easier, she even gripped the filthy, soiled diaper with her mouth, her face didn't even flinch with disgust.

I just lay there, limp and lifeless, letting her flip me over and handle me however she wanted, like I was nothing but dead weight.