Reborn to End the Rooftops

My mother tried to jump off a building three times because of me.

The first time was after my SAT exam. I clearly qualified for an Ivy League university, but she stood on a rooftop and forced me to apply to a local school.

I gave in and ended up choosing an ordinary local university.

The second time was after college graduation. When I went to work in New York, she stood on top of my company building and forced me to quit.

I went back to our hometown with her and worked at a gas station for three thousand dollars a month.

The third time, she climbed up to a rooftop again, forcing me to marry a woman I'd only met oncea woman she was very satisfied with.

I obediently married her. After the wedding, that woman cheated on me and stole all my money.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and jumped off a rooftop.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. I went back to the day when my mother first used jumping off a building to force me to obey her.

"If you dare apply to an out-of-state university today, I'll jump from here!" She climbed onto the rooftop.

I glanced at her, then turned and walked away.

"Go ahead and jump. Don't waste my time."

My mother's expression froze.

That mixture of rage and disbelief on her face reminded me of my past life.

In my past life, after all my savings were stolen and I discovered my wife's affair, the first thing my mother said when she came to see me was:

"Who told you not to listen to me? You can't even control a woman. You're useless!"

In that moment, I suddenly understood that my repeated compromises back then had already ruined my entire life.

"You... what did you say?"

Her voice trembled. I turned toward the stairwell.

"I said if you're going to jump, hurry up. I'm in a rushI need to go apply to universities."

"Julian!"

Her voice turned shrill. "Stop right there! You heartless boy, are you really trying to drive me to my death?"

I stopped and looked back at her.

"Mom, you're the one who voluntarily climbed onto the rooftop to threaten suicide. What does that have to do with me?"

With that, I walked down from the rooftop without looking back.

When I got home, I locked myself directly in the study and opened the college application system. My fingertips were trembling.

This time, I wouldn't attend some ordinary university.

From memory, I filled in the Ivy League universities I'd been thinking about for three years, one by one.

The moment I clicked submit, my nose stung and I almost cried.

This was the first time I'd made a choice for my own life.

I had just logged out of the system when the study door was suddenly pushed open.

My mother stood in the doorway, her eyes red and swollen, her hair disheveled.

She must have run down. Her chest was still heaving violently.

"You..."

She gasped for breath, her gaze falling on my computer screen.

"Did you finish submitting?"

I nodded and closed the laptop.

"Let me see!"

She rushed over, trying to grab the computer.

I turned to shield it. "Mom, I already submitted it."

"I said let me see!"

Her voice rose, carrying a sharp edge of losing control.

When she saw I wouldn't move, she reached out and pressed the computer's power button. The screen lit up, showing a login page that required a password.

She stared at me. "What's the password?"

"I'm not telling you." I said, "The application is already submitted. It can't be changed."

"Where did you apply?"

Her voice began to tremble.

"Is it out of state? Is it?"

I said nothing. Silence was the answer.

She suddenly screamed and grabbed my keyboard, smashing it violently on the floor.

Plastic fragments flew everywhere. Several keys popped off and rolled into the corner.

"Julian! Are you trying to drive me to death?"

She cried out, tears flooding down her face.

"I told you to apply locally! Don't you understand human speech?"

"I raised you all by myself through so much hardship! Was it easy for me?"

"Now you've grown up and want to fly away!"

"First it's going to college out of state, then what? Working out of state! Getting married out of state!"

"You'll never care about your mother again. You're just like your fatheryou both want to abandon me!"

She collapsed on the floor, pounding the ground, her cries piercing.

This scene had happened countless times in my past life.

Every time I showed the slightest resistance, she would cry about how hard she had it and how unfilial I was.

I used to truly believe I was wrong, that I had failed heruntil the moment I jumped off that rooftop...

"Mom," I interrupted her. "I never said I wouldn't take care of you."

She lifted her tear-filled eyes, as if grasping at a thread of hope:

"Then change your college application! You can still change it! You have three days to change it!"

"How great would it be if you applied to a local university! Mom could see you often..."

"I won't change it."

My voice was soft but firm.

"Don't try to interfere with my college application."

She froze, as if she hadn't expected me to refuse so directly.

I picked up the computer, walked around her collapsed body on the floor, and headed to my bedroom, locking the door.

Outside, her crying continued. Before long, I heard her making phone calls.

She was sobbing to relatives, crying about how much trouble I was causing and how hard she had it.

I didn't bother listening. I opened the password settings on my computer and changed it.

I leaned against the headboard and silently repeated to myself:

This time, I won't compromise my life for anyone.

Maybe the pain of jumping off the building in my past life was too realI slept deeply.

My dreams were filled with fragments from that past life.

My fingers cracking from the cold while pumping gas at the station in winter.

The despair when I discovered my wife had stolen all my savings and run off with another man.

My mother standing in my empty house saying, "When the money's gone, just earn more. Listen to me, I'll help you find another woman next time, definitely better than this one."

I woke up with a start, my forehead covered in cold sweat.

The bedroom light was off, only the computer screen glowing faintly.

I heard the soft tapping of keyboard keys.

Someone was sitting at my desk, trying to guess my computer password.

Hearing me wake up, the next second, the bedroom light snapped on, making me squint.

Before I could react, my mother had already thrown the computer violently onto my bed.

Her face was iron-gray, filled with the fury of being defied. She pointed at me and cursed:

"You changed the password? What do you mean by that? You're guarding against me like I'm a thief?"

A fire blazed up inside me, but when our eyes met, I suddenly felt only powerless.

I had already anticipated this scene.

For over a decade, she'd entered my room whenever she wanted.

She looked at my phone whenever she wanted. I even had to tell her when I set a password.

I sat up, pulled the computer toward me, and said calmly:

"I told you, I'm making my own decisions about college applications. This is my computer. You have no right to look through it."

"I'm your mother! What can't I see that belongs to you?"

Her face flushed red, her voice shrill.

"Would I hurt you? I just want to see what schools you applied to. I'm doing this for your own good!"

"Why do you need to go so far away?"

"If you study locally, after graduation I'll find you a stable job. Isn't that better than being out there?"

I'd heard these words my entire life. In my past life, it was all this "for your own good" that dragged me into hell.

"Enough!"

My voice wasn't loud, but it made her stop abruptly.

I walked to the desk and picked up the fruit knife lying there. I wasn't pointing it at her, just holding it.

"Mom, you said if I don't apply to local schools, I'm driving you to death. But have you ever considered me?"

She opened her mouth but said nothing.

"My grades can get me into the best schools in America, studying the major I most want to study."

"But you insist I stay local and attend an ordinary school I don't even respect. Mom, that's not for my own goodthat's ruining the rest of my life."

"I think you're the one trying to drive me to death."

The moment those words left my mouth, my mother's expression went blank.

She seemed to truly see me for the first time.

For the first time, she realized that her always-obedient son harbored such deep resentment.

Then she exploded.

"I'm driving you to death? Julian, do you have no conscience? I provided food and clothes for you! I sacrificed everything for you!"

"And now you're telling me I'm forcing you? Fine! I'll die right now and let you see! You'll be satisfied when I'm dead!"

She cried and rushed toward the balcony, her movements exaggerated, but I knew she wouldn't jump.

This was just her most effective method to make me compromise.

Seeing I hadn't moved, Mom cried even louder.

Soon, impatient banging came from next door, followed by the neighbor across the way opening their window and roaring angrily:

"What's all this wailing in the middle of the night? Are you going to let people sleep? Keep it up and I'm calling the police!"

My mother's cries caught in her throat.

She froze at the balcony edge, unable to advance or retreat, her face alternating between red and white.

Finally, she glared at me fiercely, quickly walked back to her own room, and slammed the door heavily.

The world was finally quiet. But I knew it wasn't over yet.

The next morning when I woke up, my mother was already gone.

I didn't think much of it. After washing up and changing clothes, I went out to look for part-time work.

College would cost money. Although I had a scholarship, I didn't want to rely on her for living expenses anymore.

More importantly, I needed to start saving myself an escape route.

After running around all afternoon, I got home around five-thirty.

I walked to my bedroom door, grabbed the handle, pushed it openmy computer was gone.

"Where's my computer?"

"Oh, that."

She put vegetables into a basin, her tone casual.

"I accidentally knocked over my water cup today and spilled water on the computer."

"So I took it to a repair shop. The technician said it needs to be examined, might take a few days."

Something felt wrong.

I didn't argue with her. I turned and went back to my bedroom.

Then immediately took out my phone and opened the college application system.

I entered the password. A line of bright red text appeared on the screen: Password incorrect, please re-enter.

I tried three times in a row. All wrong. My hands were shaking.

Struggling to maintain my composure, I walked out of the bedroom again.

Phone in hand, I walked up to her and held the screen in front of her eyes, suppressing my anger as I asked:

"What's going on? What did you really do with the computer today?"

The faucet was turned off.

My mother shook off the water, turned around, wiped her hands on her apron, then looked at me, completely self-righteous:

"College applications are such a big deal, I had to help you check."

"You're young, you don't understand. What's the use of just looking at the school's reputation? You need to look at the major, the employment prospects!"

"Today Mom pulled some strings, spent thirty thousand dollars, and hired an experienced consultant to review your schools and choose majors for you."

"They're all local. After graduation you can become a high school teacherso stable, so good!"

"I already changed your college application for you. You don't need to worry about it."

Thirty thousand dollars. She was really willing to spend.

I was so angry my voice shook.

"Who gave you the right to change my college application? Did I ask you to apply for me?"

"Change it back right now! Tell me the password!"

Hearing this, she immediately put on that life-or-death act again, pointing at me and shouting:

"Tell you? You'll definitely change it back to those out-of-state schools, won't you?"

"Let me tell you, no way! If you dare change the application, don't recognize me as your mother! I'll act like I never gave birth to a son like you!"

She'd said this line many times.

In my past life, every time she said it, I would cry, beg her, compromise.

This time, I looked at her, watched for a few seconds, then turned, pulled open the door, and ran out.

"Julian! Where are you going? Come back!"

Her shouts were shut inside.

After running out of the apartment complex, my phone rang.

It was my mother's sister, Martha. I hung up without expression.

It rang again quickly. This time it was my mother's brother, Brandon.

Twitter also started going crazy with notifications.

[Julian, how can you treat your mother this way? Raising you alone wasn't easy for her!]

[I heard you want to apply to out-of-state universities? Going so far isn't good. Be obedient and stay with your mother.]

One message after another, all urging me to be sensible and obedient.

Looking at those words, I found them absurdly laughable, but I knew I couldn't fight head-on right now.

The college application deadline was in three days.

Even if I found a way to reset the password and change it back, my mother would definitely cause more trouble.

I sat in a pavilion, scrolling through Twitter in frustration.

I came across a photo posted by a senior one year ahead of me showing his computer programming competition award. My spirits liftedI had an idea.

Just after I finished messaging the senior, my phone rang again.

This time it was Aunt Michelle. I answered.

"Julian! Where are you?"

Michelle's voice was urgent.

"Get to the hospital quick! Your mother collapsed!"

When I arrived at the hospital, my mother was already awake.

She was leaning against the hospital bed, pale-faced, receiving an IV drip.

Seeing me enter, she snorted coldly and turned her head away:

"What are you doing here? I don't have a son like you."

"What are you saying!"

Michelle tried to smooth things over, pulling me to sit down.

"Julian rushed over as soon as he heard you were sick."

"Julian, I'm not criticizing you, but your mother didn't eat all day because of you, running around everywhere. She collapsed from stress and anger. Can't you be a little more understanding?"

I'd heard these words too many times.

Every time, I would compromise under the weight of family obligation.

I knew that this time, I could only compromise too.

For my future, to make my mother lower her guard, I had to compromise.

I lowered my head, my fingertips digging into my palm, and said hoarsely:

"I understand."

The hospital room fell silent for a few seconds. My mother turned her head and looked at me suspiciously.

"I know I shouldn't have made you angry."

I continued, my voice carrying exhaustion and helplessness.

"The college application... wherever you want me to apply, I'll apply there."

My mother's eyes lit up instantly:

"Really? You're willing to stay local?"

I smiled bitterly. "What else can I do? You're already hospitalized from anger, you changed the password. What can I do?"

"Oh! Now that's right!"

Michelle clapped happily.

"Julian, that's right! Would your mother hurt you? She's doing everything for your own good!"

My mother's face immediately brightened. She reached out to pat the back of my hand, her tone rarely gentle:

"Now that's my good son. You're still young, all you think about is going out to explore. In a few years you'll understand your mother's good intentions."

"Staying local is so much better. Mom can still cook and do laundry for you. If you go out of state, who'll take care of you?"

Her hand was warm, gripping mine tightly.

In my past life, she also held my hand like this, saying "I'm doing this for your own good."

Then at the gas station, exposed to wind and sun, my hands cracked from the cold, earning only three thousand dollars a month.

I discovered that woman had stolen all my savings and run off with another man, without even a word of explanation.

I let her hold my hand without pulling away, only saying softly: "Mm."

Over the next two days, I became unusually obedient.

My mother logged into the college application system at least twice a day to confirm I hadn't changed anything.

I didn't say much, even actively leaned over to look, saying "the major you chose is actually pretty good."

Every day I accompanied her shopping and cooking, helped massage her shoulders and back.

Whatever she asked me to do, I did, without any resistance.

She finally relaxed, laughing cheerfully when talking to relatives on the phone.

Saying I'd finally become sensible, that I understood her devotion.

On the evening the college application deadline closed, after dinner, I proactively told her:

"My classmate said there's a meteor shower on the mountain in the suburbs tonight. I want to go see it."

"If you're worried about me, you can hold my phone or come with me."

She paused, probably not expecting me to actively make a request.

She took my phone and scrolled through it for a long time, finding nothing suspicious.

Seeing my expectant expression, she nodded:

"Alright, I'll go with you. Better than letting you run around."

When we climbed the mountain it was just past nine. There were already quite a few people waiting.

I sat quietly beside her, chatting with her, showing no sign of anything unusual.

At eleven-forty, I tugged her sleeve and said:

"Mom, I need to use the restroom."

My mother, afraid I'd pull something, followed me and stood outside the men's room waiting.

I walked into the innermost stall, locked it, then pulled out an old phone from a hidden pocket in my jeans.

It was an old phone from high school, long since deactivated, but it could still connect to Wi-Fi.

I quickly powered it on, connected to the observation deck's public network, then logged into a cloud note app.

Inside was a complex password string and a phone number.

I dialed the number. It rang three times, then connected.

"Hello?" A young male voice answered.

"It's me," I lowered my voice.

"You can do it now. Right now."

The call ended. I heard my own heart pounding like a drum.

My palms were already soaked with sweat.

I took several deep breaths, stuffed the phone back in the hidden pocket, flushed, and walked out of the stall.

My mother was waiting at the door. Seeing me come out, she looked me up and down:

"Why so long?"

"My stomach felt a little uncomfortable."

I touched my stomach.

She didn't ask more, just urged me to hurry back.

When we returned to our seats, it was exactly midnight.

My mother let out a long sigh of relief, a victorious smile on her face:

"Good. Now the college application system is closed. Everything's settled."

"Just wait for the acceptance letter from the local university."

I turned to look at my mother.

Her face in the distant firelight appeared blurry and soft, filled with the relief of a mission accomplished.

I smiled too. "Yes, Mom."

My voice scattered in the night wind, very light but very clear.

"Everything's settled. I'm definitely going to that out-of-state school."