My Mom Stays Young by Angering Me

Id just crashed after a marathon work session when my mom dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn to go to the supermarket.

The cashier at the beauty counter mistook us for sisters and showered us with compliments.

My mom just laughed and explained we were mother and daughter.

The cashiers eyes went wide. Her tone was a strange mix of awe and pity.

You look more like the daughter

I froze. I turned and stared at the two faces reflected in the mirror behind the counter. My moms skin was firm and smooth, like a twenty-year-old college students. The face next to hersminewas splotched with freckles and sagged like a fifty-year-old womans.

The smile on my moms face vanished.

What kind of thing is that to say?! Are you calling my daughter old?!

Exhaustion had left my nerves frayed and raw. Hearing my moms words, a completely irrational fury surged through me. I was about to lash out.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. The fine lines at the corners of my moms eyes were vanishing.

I rubbed my eyes, disbelieving.

I looked again.

One of the crow's feet was definitely gone.

Last night, around twelve-thirty, Id gone to the kitchen for a glass of water and found my mom still on the couch, binge-watching a show. Id urged her to go to bed. She was in her fifties; she couldnt pull all-nighters like she used to.

Shed just waved me off.

Youre going to get wrinkles, Id warned her.

At that, her face had gone pale. Shed fumbled for her phone, frantically opening the camera to inspect her reflection. When she saw the tiny crows feet that had appeared, shed rushed to the bathroom and slathered her face with a dozen different creams.

I had seen them clearly then. Two distinct lines at the corner of each eye.

But now, impossibly, one was missing.

The rising clamor of the store dragged me back to reality.

I shook my head hard, telling myself it was a hallucination. I was just sleep-deprived.

My mom was still berating the cashier. The noise was giving me a headache. Id lost all patience for shopping. I turned to leave.

Tilly, you youre not angry? my mom asked, her voice laced with surprise.

I couldnt blame her for being confused. There was nothing I hated more than people commenting on my appearance, on how old I looked.

For as long as I can remember, my face has been out of sync with my age.

At five, I looked ten.

At ten, I looked twenty.

Now, in my mid-twenties, I had the face of a woman pushing fifty.

I was convinced it was some kind of medical condition. Id been to every hospital, endured countless tests, but the results always came back the same: perfectly normal.

Because of this face, Id been an outcast my whole life, a target for ridicule and stares. As I got older, my temper grew shorter. The single word old was enough to make me explode.

Id only taken two steps when my mom caught up, grabbing my arm.

She pointed to the snack aisle.

Just help me pick out some chips before we go.

She dragged me over and started poring over the shelves. While she was distracted, I pulled out my phone and dealt with a few work messages.

After we paid, I was about to walk out of the supermarket.

The moment I stepped past the threshold, the security alarm blared.

The nearest cashier rushed over, blocking my path with her arms outstretched.

Excuse me, Im going to need to search your personal belongings.

A vein throbbed in my forehead. A hot spike of fury shot up from my feet. It was just one damn thing after another today.

As I was about to protest, my mom bumped into me from behind.

I stumbled forward, and a perfectly wrapped lollipop tumbled out from my jacket and clattered onto the floor.

My mom gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Tilly, what is that?!

I stared at it, frozen.

I hadnt touched a single thing on the shelves. How could it possibly be on me?

Before I could even process it, the cashier pointed a finger at the lollipop and screeched, Caught red-handed! You dress all nice, but youll steal a two-dollar lollipop!

Her shout drew a crowd. People stopped their shopping to stare.

I took a breath, forcing myself to stay calm. Check the security cameras.

The cashier crossed her arms, smirking. Oh, so youre a pro, huh? Youve already cased the joint, you know where the cameras blind spot is.

That, I hadnt expected.

I exhaled slowly, realizing Id have to fight this myself.

I held up my shopping bag.

You can look up my loyalty account. I spend close to ten thousand dollars a year in this store. I just spent over a hundred in the last ten minutes. Do you really think I need to steal a two-dollar lollipop?

My argument seemed to sway some of the onlookers. They started nodding.

Shes right. That jacket shes wearing is probably worth a thousand bucks.

She doesnt look like a shoplifter. And with the sensors at the door, who would be stupid enough to risk it for two dollars?

My moms eyes darted around, and then she chimed in, her voice sharp. Exactly! My daughter is a CEO. Does she look like someone who needs to steal from you?!

The cashier just snorted.

She looked me up and down, her gaze finally settling on my face with a look of pure disgust.

CEO, so what? Looking like that, shes probably got some weird fetish for stealing

Her words were a slap across my face. My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

I could hear the whispers starting up around me, the soft clicks of phone cameras.

God, that woman looks so old. Shes older than my mom. Doesnt she ever take care of herself?

Maybe she really does have some kind of weird thing

I thought the one next to her was her daughter. Turns out its her mom! Ive seen it all now. The mom looks younger than the daughter.

The ghosts of a thousand pitying, scornful stares from my past came rushing back, stabbing at me. I could barely breathe. I instinctively wanted to duck my head, to hide my face.

The cashier wasnt letting up. She grabbed my arm, pointing to the fine notice on the wall.

The fine for stealing is one hundred times the value of the item. Thatll be two hundred dollars. Pay up, or Im calling the police.

My fingers were trembling. I took a deep, shaky breath and forced a cold smile.

Fine. Call the police.

Even if theres no camera, someone in this crowd must have seen something.

And besides, if youre saying I stole it, then my fingerprints will be on it. We can have it tested, and the truth will come out

Suddenly, my mom cut me off, her voice shrill.

Dont call the police!

Her sudden outburst startled me.

Her eyes flickered nervously. Tilly, honey, she said, her voice dropping to a soft, placating tone, its just two dollars. Its not worth bothering the police over.

We can afford the two hundred dollars. Theres no need to make things difficult for the cashier. Shes just doing her job.

The cashier smirked, triumphant. See? Looks like your mom is the reasonable one here.

The crowd murmured in agreement.

Yeah, no need to waste police resources.

The mom really is the sensible one.

What a difference between them. Shes a typical rich boss, no sympathy for the working class

Hearing my moms words, a new kind of anger, hot and sharp, flared in my chest.

How had this become me making things difficult for her? I hadnt stolen anything. Calling the police was the only way to clear my name. If I paid the fine, I was admitting guilt.

I looked at my mom, a flicker of resentment in my eyes.

For the first time, I ignored her. This affects my reputation, I said, my voice hard as steel. It could even affect my companys stock price.

Ive already said we can have the evidence tested. If you insist on accusing me of theft, then charge me. If you win, Ill pay whatever the court decides. If you lose, Ill be suing you for defamation.

The cashiers bravado vanished. She glared at me, muttering under her breath before finally dropping her hands.

Just my luck!

My mom was still apologizing to her. The glares from the crowd intensified.

I ignored them all and strode towards the restroom.

The moment I locked the stall door, my legs gave out.

The memory of those stares, those whispers, replayed in my mind. My hands shook as I fumbled in my pocket for my anxiety medication. I dry-swallowed a pill, waiting for the panic to subside.

As I was about to leave, I heard voices by the sinks.

Hey, a woman said in a gossipy tone, do you think that woman in the supermarket really stole something? She didnt seem like the type.

A few seconds later, another voice, hesitant.

Actually I saw it. It wasnt her. It was the woman next to her

It was her mom. She slipped it into her pocket when she was looking at her phone.

The first woman gasped. Why didnt you say anything?

Are you crazy? Its not my business. Better to stay out of it.

The sound of their footsteps faded down the hall.

My hand hovered over the lock, frozen.

I couldnt believe it.

It couldnt be. My mom she wouldnt

But even as I denied it, the pieces started clicking into place. The way she had insisted on going to the snack aisle. The way she had accidentally bumped into me.

For years, whenever my mom and I went out in public, something would always go wrong. I would always end up in some kind of trouble.

The suspicion, once a tiny seed, was now a monstrous, thorny vine, wrapping itself around my heart.

Suddenly, I remembered the words of an old holistic healer I had seen years ago.

The old man, well into his nineties, had looked at me with a strange, complicated expression and told me that my problem might not be physical.

I hadnt understood then.

But now

I had to know. I had to prove it.

I forced myself to calm down and walked out of the restroom.

My mom was standing by the curb, the sunlight making her glow.

And then it hit me. For as long as I could remember, my moms face had never changed. For over twenty years, she had looked exactly the same.

I took a slow, steadying breath and walked towards her.

Using the excuse of picking a leaf out of her hair, I got close and examined her face.

Just as I suspected.

The other crows foot was gone.

A sharp, searing pain shot through me.

I couldnt face the truth that was staring me in the face.

I mumbled something about work and fled, like a coward.

But I didnt go to the office. I went to see a well-known spiritualist in the city.

The result was just as I had feared.

She told me I was cursed.

And had been, for many years.

Someone was feeding off my negative energy to nourish themselves. It had to be someone who was with me constantly.

My first thought was my mom.

I had barely left her side my entire life.

I was supposed to go to a boarding school in middle school, but my mom had said she couldnt bear to see me suffer. She sold our downtown apartment and we moved to a place near the school. When I got into a university in another city, she moved the entire family with me.

What I had always thought was love was actually the source of all my suffering.

Tears welled in my eyes.

Why?

I had cried to her so many times about my face, about my pain.

And she had just smiled gently and told me not to care what other people thought.

She wasnt comforting me. She was admiring her handiwork.

The more miserable I was, the more she thrived.

A black, venomous hatred began to bloom in my heart.

I wouldnt let her win.

Why should I be the one to suffer?

If she never thought of me as a daughter, then I no longer needed to think of her as a mother.

In that moment, I decided to get my revenge.

My mom had told me not to care what other people thought.

Well, lets see how she felt when she was the one in the spotlight.

I wiped the tears from my eyes.

And I went home.

I didnt want my mom to suspect anything, so I skipped dinner, claiming I was tired, and went straight to my room.

I opened up a streaming app and clicked on a livestream raising money for a baby with a cleft palate.

On the screen, a young couple was performing in a rundown room. After seven hours, they had only raised about two hundred dollars.

The comments were brutal.

Have the mom put on some fishnets and do a sexy dance, and Ill send a gift!

If the dad eats a handful of dirt, Ill donate fifty bucks!

A group of trolls, turning their tragedy into a joke.

I couldnt watch it.

I sent twenty of the highest-tier virtual gifts in a row.

Then I contacted them directly and donated a hundred thousand dollars.

The continuous stream of gifts filled the entire screen.

The couple burst into tears.

Thank you, Miss Tilly, thank you! Youve saved our family!

We will pray for you for the rest of our lives! God bless you!

Good people will be rewarded!

The comment section exploded.

Where did all those idiots go? Cant they type anymore?

This is a real hero. Not like those perverts who just came to see a show.

Shes beautiful and kind! A round of applause for her!

Hearing those words, I paused.

It was the first time in over twenty years that I had heard a genuine compliment.

I felt a pang of shame.

I wasnt a good person. I had done this for my own selfish reasons.

But when I saw that couple, holding their child and thanking me, my eyes welled up.

I knew better than anyone what it was like for a child to be judged for their appearance.

I closed the app.

A slow, creeping sense of pleasure bloomed in my chest.

The next second, a loud crash came from the living room.

Followed by a scream.

It was my mom.

I went downstairs to find her staring, pale-faced, at a shattered mirror on the floor.

Her face was changing before my very eyes.

Her skin was becoming sallow, the lines around her mouth deepening. Dark spots were appearing on her cheeks.

In a single moment, she had aged ten years.

I smiled to myself.

Payback came faster than I thought.

When she saw me, her eyes were wild.

She rushed at me, grabbing my arms and shaking me violently.

Was it you? Did you do this?!

I blinked, feigning surprise.

Mom, what are you talking about?

Oh my god, your face! What happened? Did you have an allergic reaction to a new cream?

She stared at me for a long moment, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. It really wasnt you?

I just shook my head, looking confused. After a few more seconds of her intense scrutiny, she seemed to relax.

She realized she had overreacted. She forced a smile.

Its nothing. I just tried a new face cream. It must be an allergic reaction

She tugged at her collar, trying to hide her face. Her frantic movements betrayed her panic.

I just nodded.

Inside, I was ecstatic.

Just a small taste of aging, and youre already falling apart, Mom?

This is nothing compared to what Ive been through.

As soon as I turned my back, I found several other fundraisers for people needing surgery and donated generously.

The next morning, my mom was gone.

I checked the security footage. She had left at the crack of dawn, her face completely covered by a mask, sunglasses, and a scarf, and had gone to a high-end beauty clinic.

I almost burst into song.

With her out of the house, I had the perfect opportunity.

There was someone else in this house I needed to deal with.