The Mother Who Cooked My Only Friend As A Final Test

My mother, Viola Miller, operated on a single, ruthless tenet: Only the strong survive. I learned that lesson young. At four, she looked me dead in the eye and told me I was an orphan shed taken inand that Id be promptly shipped back if I failed to be compliant. I mastered the art of observation before I learned to tie my shoes.

When I was ten, she used her connections to intentionally fail me, making me the oldest, most openly ridiculed student in my elementary school class.

This is an exercise, shed explained with a wave of her hand. Its about building your capacity to withstand the judgment of others.

At sixteen, Mom announced she had late-stage cancer.

I quit school and took any job I could find to pay for her treatment. I worked myself ragged, almost collapsed at my station. But when I woke up, she declared the cancer was just a jokeanother test.

The final straw came at twenty-five, when she deliberately overlooked my younger brother, Preston, seducing my girlfriend. When I slapped them both, she merely frowned.

Losing control over something so trivial? Your inner strength is still lacking, Jaxon.

Then, as compensation, she announced she was making her signature dishout of the emotional support dog I had secretly kept for ten years.

She smiled, holding a forkful of meat toward me. Smell good?

I bet youll be the one who eats the most, she challenged. Wanna wager?

I didnt just lose it this time. On New Years Eve, I leveled the house.

The lingering scent of the holiday feast hadn't faded, but the dining room was already a catastrophe.

Dishes lay smashed across the floor; my mothers signature meal was now garbage. Chairs and tables were missing limbs, and even the TV and sofa hadnt been spared.

The extended family stood stunned. Opposite me, Preston stared blankly at the new, expensive trousers hed pestered Mom into buyingnow shredded rags.

His handsome face twisted into a mask of fury. Jaxon! Are you completely insane?!

The sight of his contorted features was suddenly menacing. It was hard to believe that just a minute ago, hed been all smiles, smugly spitting out a bone.

Ugh, what do you feed it? The meats too lean. No flavor. Dog meat needs a little fat to really be good!

I scoffed, dropping my gaze, entirely deaf to his rant. That only stoked his anger. He turned to Mom, clutching her arm and whining, Mom, look at him!

Viola didnt speak. She only patted Prestons hand gently in a gesture of comfort.

Then, she turned to me, her eyes flat and cold, holding a look of absolute disdain. Just because I cooked a dog, you ruin a perfectly good holiday dinner?

Youve never thrown a tantrum this big before. Have your wings finally hardened, darling? Ready to rebel?

Her indifferent tone made my breakdown seem pathological, out of place.

Of course, she had done this before. To develop my inner strength, my mother had a habit of killing, cooking, or getting rid of every single pet I ever managed to cherish.

In fifth grade, my teacher gave us pets to foster responsibility. I chose a beautiful goldfish. I nurtured it until it was the size of an egg, only for my mother to accidentally pour it down the drain.

Later, I got a little duckling. I took it everywhere, practically inseparable. One day, I couldnt find it. Frantic, I tugged on my mothers sleeve, begging her to help me search.

She held up a butcher knife, still dripping blood, and smiled faintly. Looking for the duck?

Its right here.

She watched me cry hysterically, even as I hyperventilated. She only furrowed her brow, speaking with the tone of someone deeply disappointed.

If you cant endure such a small thing, how will you handle the storms of the real world later on?

I was only ten.

After that, my birds, my pet turtle, the stray cat I rescuedevery creature I considered a friend became a ghost under my mothers knife. I stopped bringing anything alive into the house.

Patches was the only exception, the dog I raised in secret when I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. He was the reason I could function like a normal person. I had hidden him for a decade, but Mom found him anyway.

Apologize to your brother.

And you will replace all this damaged furniture yourself by tomorrow. Dont make me say it twice.

My mothers voice dragged me back to the wreckage of the present. I saw the look of smug triumph on Prestons face.

I lifted my head, meeting her gaze. Why should I?

You cooked my dog; I smashed your house. That sounds fair to me. Why would I apologize to a man who ate my friend?

Preston burst out laughing.

Friend? You treat a dog like a friend? Hahahaha, thats rich.

Then again, someone like you probably has no real friends. Gotta treat an animal like your confidant, huh?

Every word was laced with contempt, devoid of any respect for me as his older brother. I had to wonder: when did my relationship with Preston become so venomous?

Perhaps it was the moment he realized that the best way to get Moms approval was to deliberately oppose me.

I reached out and delivered a hard, swift slap across Prestons face. In a few seconds, his cheek swelled like a dinner roll. The force was far greater than the day I caught him cheating with Hailey.

The room finally fell silent.

When Preston realized what had happened, his shriek threatened to take the roof off.

Jaxon! You hit me?! Are you looking for a death wish?! Ill kill you!

His high-pitched screaming made my skull ache. I raised my hand again, intending to shut him up.

But Mom intervened. Her tone was still deceptively soft and gentle.

If you touch your brother again, you need to be very careful

As she spoke, her fingers brushed lightly over the crystal pendant around her neck.

My pupils instantly constricted. I slowly lowered my hand.

Whenever I tried to fight back, my mother would use the last relic left to me by my grandmother, Edith, as leverage. Edith had been the single sliver of light in my life, a small, fragile barrier between my mothers endless psychological warfare and my own breaking point. She would hold me, comfort me, and find ways for me to breathe, allowing me to keep going.

Tragically, in an attempt to protect me, she got into a huge argument with Mom. The strain triggered a fatal heart attack. Just before she died, she clutched the crystal pendant, her eyes wet with tears.

Dont blame your mother.

Shes only shes only confused for now.

Soon after, Mom snatched the crystal from me. Since then, she had found the perfect piece of collateral to control me, allowing her to comfortably continue her great educational philosophy.

I dont think Edith ever imagined Mom would become this.

While I was lost in that thought, Preston took his chance, delivering a vicious kick to my stomach. I was knocked over, rolling onto the floor. Sharp porcelain shards dug into my palm, making me look far more pathetic than him.

Serves you right! Preston adjusted his shirt, satisfied.

I trembled, pulling the ceramic out of my hand, and stumbled back to my feet.

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. Apologize to your brother.

He had provoked me first. Yet, somehow, I was always the one at fault. I clenched my jaw, refusing to utter those three words.

Seeing her hand move to the necklace again, I closed my eyes and mumbled, Im sorry.

Preston cupped his ear. What was that? Did you leave your vocal cords at home? I cant hear you.

Knowing he was deliberately taunting me, I could only repeat myself.

Im sorry.

Louder!

Im sorry.

Preston grinned, like a rooster that had won the fight. See? Why make things hard on yourself?

He threw himself into Moms embrace, laughing brightly. Violas smile instantly returned.

Your New Years gift is in your room, darling. Go open it.

Awesome!

My brother ran off, his earlier rage completely vanished.

Mom turned back to the remaining relatives, waving her hand dismissively. Its just my oldest son being difficult. Ruined everyones evening. Ill treat you all to a late supper and fireworks later. Everythings on me.

The relatives exchanged nervous glances, but said nothing. They shuffled out the door, following Mom's instructions.

Before leaving, she turned her head, studying me for a few seconds, a hint of regret in her expression.

All these years, and youre still so weak. You are not worthy to be my son.

Then, she was gone, leaving me alone in the house facing the endless darkness.

I dont know how long I stood there.

Until a low, husky laugh echoed through the dark room.

After hastily bandaging my hand, Mom ordered me to take a platter of fruit out to the patio.

When I arrived, my Aunt Carol and Aunt Susan were gathered around Mom, showering her with praise.

Viola, Im so jealous of you. Your husband makes a fortune, he owns a company, and you must have several houses by now? Aunt Susan sighed.

Tell me about it, Aunt Carol chimed in. And your son is so well-behaved. I hear your youngest is going to study abroad after the new year. Nothing like my useless boys.

When will we ever be this comfortable? It's just infuriating how easy you have it.

Mom took a sip of tea, accepting their envy as her due.

When my parents first started their business, they struggled immensely. They lived in their car, slept on park benches, and did every degrading thing imaginable. They were so worn out that they almost jumped off a bridge. But then Dad, Rob Miller, stumbled into a massive financial windfall, and his business took off. Soon, they had cars, houses, and a company.

Since then, Mom often repeated: Thank God my inner strength was enough to persevere. Otherwise, we wouldnt have made it.

So, when I was born, she began to implement her so-called success theory on me. My entire life had been held firmly in her grasp.

I asked her once, I fought with her once: Why me? Why did I have to suffer all this?

One person is enough for the necessary training, she replied.

And so, she showered all her love and approval on my brother.

My name is Jaxon. My brother is Preston. One name means nothing to her; the other gets everything. It was sickening.

I set the fruit platter down and turned to leave.

Ive already quit your job at the art studio, she called out. Loafing around all dayhow will you ever amount to anything?

Ive spoken to an old acquaintance. Starting after the New Year, youll work as a factory hand at the glass plant. Six AM to ten PM, no days off. Its a fine opportunity. Your character needs to be refined. Now, get out.

My head began to throb again. I rubbed my temples and walked to an empty chair nearby.

Preston immediately gathered some of the younger cousins and deliberately approached me.

Hey, lets play a throwing game! he announced.

Yeah!

Their happy shouting circled my ears, intensifying my headache. I was about to leave when an object in Prestons hand caught my attention.

They were tossing my grandmothers crystal pendant!

I immediately shot out my hand to snatch it, but Preston tossed it to the next cousin, who then tossed it back to him when I got close. They encircled me, laughing hysterically.

Come get it! I have it!

Haha, its mine now! Jax, youre too slow!

Back and forth, I chased the relic, panting heavily. I knew they were treating me like a performing monkey, but I couldnt stop.

Fun! Hey, Preston, catch!

A younger cousin threw the crystal high into the air, but Preston was still laughing, distracted. By the time he fumbled for it, the pendant completed a perfect arc and fell onto the concrete patio in front of him.

No!

I heard a sharp, brittle sound.

The crystal shattered into three pieces.

The kids instantly froze, their laughter dying in their throats. I rushed forward, gathering the shards and clenching them in my palm. The veins in my arm bulged.

Mom noticed the commotion and walked over. She spotted the broken pieces on the ground immediately.

Preston whined, his voice thick with tears. Mom, I I didnt mean to.

For the first time, she snapped at him. Who told you to play with that?! That was your grandmothers!

Before she could say more, another voice cut in.

Its just a cheap piece of crystal. Well buy a new one.

Preston, come here.

Look what Daddy brought you.

Hearing the newcomers voice, Moms dark expression instantly melted into a radiant smile.

Youre back, Rob?

Look at you, so busy you missed dinner. Ill make you the leek dumplings you love later.

Dad smiled and nodded. Good.

Preston, overjoyed, took the gift box from Dad. Thanks, Dad!

The three of them looked perfectly harmonious. It was as if they forgot I was their son, too.

Preston hid behind Dad, sticking his tongue out at me. He looped his arm through Dads and started to walk away.

I stretched out my arm, blocking their path.

You broke my property. You think you can just walk away?

Dad frowned, clearly annoyed. What do you want?

In his eyes, I was no different from a toddlerjust a nuisance.

I sneered, just about to speak.

Mom delivered a swift, hard slap across my face.

Get back to your room!

I stumbled, nearly falling. The shattered crystal in my palm flew out, crashing onto the ground again.

Like the fleeting affection Id always craved from this family, it was now in pieces.

The final, fragile tie to this house was gone.

Mom instinctively opened her mouth, ready to scold me again. But after a moment, she regained her composure. She glanced at me, her expression complicated. Clean up the garbage. Dont be a public disgrace. She turned to join Rob and Preston to go set off fireworks.

Suddenly, my laughter erupted behind them.

It started low and shaky, then built into a wild, manic roar.

I was done waiting. The favor I would never receive, I wouldn't wait for anymore. Expectation, I realized, was a weakness.

I flexed my wrist, a sense of readiness surging through me. Before, I might have hesitated, thinking of consequences. But now, I had nothing left to lose. I was utterly alone.

I wanted to see if the woman who constantly preached about inner strength could truly endure what was coming.

I moved with startling speed, grabbing Prestons hair and yanking him backward, then kicking the back of his knee, forcing him to his knees.

He cried out in pain.

What are you doing?! Let go of me!

I looked up, grinning darkly.

What am I doing?

Then, I slammed his head down onto the concrete, right onto the shards of the broken crystal.

I want you to apologize to Edith!

It had only just begun.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Again and again. Each impact was heavy, dull, and solid, like a muffled hammer driving into a chest.

The sound of his head hitting the floor, coupled with Prestons wails, echoed across the patio.

No one reacted. Not Rob, not Mom. They stood frozen, watching me slam my brothers head onto the shattered crystal a dozen times.

It took a long minute before a relative rushed forward, finally tearing us apart.

When I looked, large patches of blood were already seeping from Prestons forehead, running down his cheek. He clutched his face, sobbing toward Mom. Mom! My face hurts! Im going to be scarred, arent I?!

Mom frantically pulled him close, her voice soft as silk as she comforted him.

Its shallow, darling. The cut is very shallow. You wont have a scar.

Its okay. Dont be scared.

Preston buried his face in her shoulder, crying uncontrollably, and Mom gently patted his back. To any outside observer, it was a profound display of maternal love.

I looked over at Dad. His face was beet red. He pointed at me, spitting venom. Look at what youve done! How could I have sired such a cruel, heartless monster?! Thats your brother! How could you lay hands on him like that?!

My brother?

I twitched my lips, offering no argument.

The relatives exploded in chatter, pointing and whispering.

How could that child be so vicious? My God.

Attacking his own brother like thatits terrifying!

Look at him. He must be crazy. Lets stay away before he hurts someone else.

I pretended not to hear them. I used to agonize over whether Id done something wrong to deserve their coldness. Now, I decided: if I didnt get their love, I didnt get it. It wasnt a necessary thing.

I leisurely brushed the dust from my hands. Are you done with the lecture?