The Web of a Poisonous Mother

Opening my eyes, I was a child of three again, in my tiny childhood bedroom. Watching my little sister sleep beside me, I swore a vow: this time, I would make sure she and my mother remained bound to each other forever.

In my past life, my mother had asked an online forum which child to take in the divorcethe baby or the toddler. Strangers told her to take me, and she never let me forget it. Nightly, she poisoned me with guilt, claiming my sister suffered at the hands of a cruel stepmother because of me. I believed her. To atone, I woke at dawn to cook and clean, wearing faded rags and eating scraps, while every treat and toy was saved for my sister.

That life ended in college, when a doctor told me I had advanced stomach cancer. I begged my mother for help, but my sister, the one Id sacrificed everything for, spat that I deserved to die. My mother agreed, called me a burden, and threw me out. I froze to death under a bridge, alone.

"Why is everyone telling me to take Luna? Jennifer is just a baby. She needs her mother the most. Asking these people online is completely useless."

I blinked against the morning light, taking in the familiar faded wallpaper.

My mother, Diane, was sitting at the edge of the bed. She cradled my baby sister, Jennifer, in one arm while angrily scrolling through her phone.

Looking down at my own tiny, chubby hands, the reality set in. I had been reborn.

This was the exact day my parents were finalizing their divorce. In my previous life, my mother took me away, marking the beginning of my living nightmare.

The bedroom door creaked open. My father, Rob, walked in with heavy bags under his eyes. He saw that I was awake and offered a sad, exhausted smile.

"Luna, sweetie," he began softly. "Mommy and Daddy are going to live in different houses now. Do you want to go with Mommy or stay with Daddy?"

This exact moment had played out before. Back then, I hesitated but eventually reached out for my mother.

This time, I did not hesitate for a single second.

"Daddy. I want Daddy."

Diane snapped her head toward me and rolled her eyes in pure disgust.

"Ungrateful little brat. You share my blood, but you choose him. Fine. Since you made your choice, don't ever blame me for playing favorites."

She stood up abruptly. "I am packing my things and taking Jennifer today."

Diane had already packed her suitcases. Standing in the entryway, she held Jennifer against her hip and gripped the handle of her luggage.

"I am leaving this house to you," Diane sneered at my father. "But I am taking every single cent from the joint accounts. You will pay me three thousand dollars a month in child support. As for Luna, she is entirely your problem now."

This house was paid for entirely by my paternal grandparents before they passed away. Diane legally could not touch it. But taking all the liquid assets was a deliberate, vicious move. She wanted to ensure my father and I starved.

"Diane, if you empty the accounts, how am I supposed to feed Luna?" Rob pleaded, his face pale with stress.

"How is that my problem? Did you think about how to feed us when you were out cheating on me?" Diane's voice pierced the air like a siren.

"I told you I never cheated! What you saw was a complete misunderstanding!"

"Save your breath. I am too good for a dirty liar like you. I take the money, or we go to court. Non-negotiable."

Hearing this, I immediately threw myself onto the floor and let out a deafening, theatrical wail.

"Mommy! Please don't let me starve! Please leave Daddy and me some money to buy food!"

In my past life, she only demanded two-thirds of the savings. She even secretly funneled money to Jennifer over the years to ensure her comfort.

A toddler's scream is piercing. I wailed with every ounce of air in my little lungs. Within seconds, neighbors began poking their heads out of their doors, drawn by the commotion in the apartment hallway.

"What are you screaming about, you stupid girl?" Diane hissed, her face turning red. "Your father is a cheater! And you take his side? You really treat your own mother like an outsider!"

Whispers broke out among the neighbors.

"He looks like such an honest guy. I can't believe he had an affair."

"She gave him two beautiful daughters. Men are truly pigs."

Rob's defensive arguments were drowned out by the judgmental murmurs of the crowd. He looked completely defeated.

I rubbed my tear-soaked eyes and looked up innocently.

"Mommy, what does cheating mean?"

"Does cheating mean talking to strangers on the phone?"

Diane's eyes lit up. She thought I was handing her the ultimate weapon.

"Did you see your Daddy talking to a strange lady on the phone, Luna? Tell Mommy the truth. Mommy will buy you candy and pretty dresses."

Under her eager gaze, I nodded slowly.

The neighbors gasped. Rob stared at me in absolute shock.

"I saw Mommy talking to a strange uncle on the phone all the time in the bathroom. He called you baby. Is that what cheating is?"

The hallway went dead silent.

The expressions on the neighbors' faces flipped instantly. The woman who had just called my father a pig now looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

"Wait. She's the one sneaking around?"

"Accusing him of cheating when she's the one doing it. That takes some nerve."

"What are you talking about? Did your father tell you to frame me?!" Diane shrieked.

Her face twisted in utter rage. Before anyone could react, she swung her hand down and slapped me across the face with all her strength.

The impact threw my tiny body against the hardwood floor. A sharp, ringing pain exploded in my ear.

"Are you insane?! You don't hit a child!" Rob yelled, shoving past her to scoop me into his arms. "Luna! Are you okay?"

He glared at Diane with pure hatred. "Are you happy now, Diane? We split the assets fifty-fifty. If you disagree, I will drag you to court. Let a judge decide how much a cheating, abusive mother deserves."

Diane glared at me with venomous eyes.

"Have the money ready by Friday."

With that, she hoisted Jennifer up, dragged her suitcase out the door, and pushed her way past the whispering neighbors.

I knew Diane had accepted the fifty-fifty split.

The moment she was gone, Rob rushed me to the emergency room.

The doctor was furious. "You do not strike a child in the head! You could cause permanent brain damage!"

If I hadn't been free of other bruises, the doctor would have called child protective services immediately. The right side of my face was swollen like a bruised peach.

"I know, I know. I am so sorry. It was a domestic dispute, and her mother lost control," Rob apologized repeatedly, his voice shaking with guilt.

The examination results came back within the hour.

A minor perforated eardrum. It required medicated drops and careful observation to heal naturally.

"Daddy, can I play with your phone?" I asked, putting on my best puppy-dog eyes.

Riddled with guilt and pity, he immediately unlocked it and handed it to me.

I knew exactly what forum Diane used. She had gloated about it in my previous life.

My small fingers clumsily typed the keywords into the search bar. Within seconds, I found the trending post.

Title: Divorcing. Two kids. One is a year old, the other is three. Which one should I take?

The top comment read:

Take the older one. A three-year-old is easier to manage and will be in school soon. She can help with chores. Plus, she already has memories and will bond with you better. The baby knows nothing and might be turned against you by the father. Just buy the younger one gifts later to make up for it.

Diane had replied with just one sentence:

But my baby girl needs her mother's presence so much right now.

That single reply triggered a wave of sympathy from other users.

"My heart breaks for the original poster."

"She clearly favors the baby. Why ask for advice?"

"Did you notice she mentioned the baby first in the title? Psychology says you list what you care about most first."

"The three-year-old is going to suffer. I feel so bad for her."

I scrolled down to the very bottom. There was a new comment posted by Diane just an hour ago.

"You can stop defending the three-year-old. She just told everyone she wants to stay with her father. She is an ungrateful little snake. I nearly died giving birth to her, and she betrays me the moment things get hard."

She conveniently omitted the part where I exposed her infidelity.

In my memories, I hadn't caught her on the phone that often. But living with her in my past life, I remembered the strange men who would constantly visit her apartment after the divorce.

I had taken a gamble today by accusing her of having an affair. Based on her violent reaction, I hit the bullseye.

Diane thought the men she invited over were good people. But I knew the horrifying reality of living with men who shared no blood with you.

In my past life, I had to lock the bathroom door twice when showering. I slept with a chair wedged against my bedroom door. I never dared to wear shorts in summer. I was actually grateful Diane bought me oversized, ugly clothes. It kept me hidden.

Within a week, Rob finalized the paperwork and transferred half the assets to Diane.

Watching the ink dry on the divorce papers, I let out a massive breath of relief. I was free.

The timeline remained the same. Six months later, my father remarried.

I finally met my stepmother, Sarah. She was the woman Jennifer would later claim was an abusive monster.

Sarah was a sharp, professional woman dressed in a crisp blazer. She didn't look mean; she just looked efficient.

"I am going to be your mother from now on," she said, kneeling to my eye level. "But if you aren't comfortable calling me Mom, you can just call me Aunt Sarah."

"Aunt Sarah," I chirped immediately.

Only an idiot would reject an olive branch.

"Rob, you know Luna is still so little. She needs a maternal figure," Sarah told my father later that evening, not bothering to hide the conversation from me. "I cannot have biological children. I promise you, I will raise Luna as my own flesh and blood. You have nothing to worry about."

Hearing this, the final puzzle piece clicked into place.

In my past life, Rob only remarried to give Jennifer a complete family. And Sarah was completely infertile. She poured all her resources into Jennifer, yet Jennifer repaid her with nothing but hatred.

Living with Sarah and Rob, I experienced true warmth for the first time in two lifetimes.

In my previous life, despite being starved and overworked, I managed to claw my way into a decent state university. This time, with a healthy environment, I was unstoppable.

As I entered elementary school, I realized what Jennifer meant when she complained about "suffering" under Sarah.

Sarah was incredibly strict about my education. My daily schedule was packed with tutoring, piano lessons, and reading assignments. But it wasn't a prison. She strictly enforced rest periods, made sure I ate nutritious meals, and took me on educational trips across the country during summer vacations.

These were experiences I could only dream of in my past life.

By the time I reached middle school, Sarah's rigorous foundation paid off. I was consistently at the top of my class. I was healthy, tall, and confident.

During my eighth-grade year, a familiar face appeared at the gates of my private academy.

It was Jennifer.

She looked exactly like she did in my past life. Soft, pale, and slightly chubby. Even though she wore a public school uniform, her sneakers and hair clips were expensive designer brands.

"Sister," she called out, running up to me with a sickly sweet smile. "Mom misses you so much. She told me to bring you home for dinner."

A child's acting is terribly clumsy. I saw the malicious glint in her eyes instantly.

"Sure," I smiled back. "Let me just make a quick phone call, and I'll walk with you."

Ignoring the hateful glare burning into my back, I typed out an emergency text to the police, attached my live location, and set it on a fifteen-minute delayed send.

This time, I was going to send that monster straight to hell.

I followed Jennifer to a dingy apartment complex. The moment she unlocked the door, I could sense her physical hesitation. She was terrified to go inside.

I lingered in the hallway for a moment before stepping in.

Sitting on the stained living room sofa was a man. Greg.

Just the sight of him made my stomach churn. The smell of stale beer and cheap tobacco hit my face.

"So this is Luna," Greg slurred, his eyes dragging up and down my body like he was appraising a piece of meat. "Your mother talks about you a lot. You don't look anything like Jennifer."

I suppressed my nausea and gave a tight nod.

"Sister, come look at my new toys in my room," Jennifer urged, her voice trembling slightly.

"Okay." I followed her into the cramped bedroom.

The moment the door clicked shut, I secretly pressed the record button on my phone and slipped it into my pocket.

Jennifer dropped her sweet act immediately. She lowered her voice, her face twisting in pure hatred.

"Luna, if it wasn't for you, I would have stayed with Dad! I would be the one going to that fancy private school! I would be the one getting perfect grades! Why do you get to have the perfect life?!"

I looked at her with pity. Even if she had the opportunity, she never had the discipline to succeed.

"Did you really think Mom wanted to see you?" Jennifer sneered. "She wishes you were dead."

A heavy fist pounded on the bedroom door. "Are you done in there?" Greg's muffled, greasy voice demanded.

Jennifer flinched violently.

"It's time you experience what it's really like to live here," she whispered maliciously.

She yanked the door open, slipped past Greg, and bolted out of the apartment, leaving me trapped inside.

Greg stepped into the room, blocking the exit.

"Jennifer is a little busy right now," he smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. "Why don't you play with me instead?"

"We are going to play a game you have never played before."

"No. I need to go home. My dad and Aunt Sarah are waiting for me," I said, backing against the wall.

He lunged forward. The suffocating stench of his unwashed body brought back terrifying flashes of my past life.

The moment his rough hands grazed my shoulder, I let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"Don't touch me! Get away from me!"

I unzipped my backpack, pulled out a sharp utility knife I used for art projects, and slashed wildly. The blade dug deep into his forearm, slicing right down to the bone.

Blood sprayed across the cheap carpet.

"You little bitch!" Greg roared in agony, clutching his bleeding arm. "I'm going to teach you a lesson you will never forget!"

He threw his massive weight toward me, his eyes wide with violent rage.