Trapped by On-Screen Words

At my eighteenth birthday party, Mom gifted her adopted daughter twenty percent of the company's shares.

I, on the other hand, received nothing but a cheap, laminated Model Daughter certificate.

My eyes stung, and the lump in my throat made it hard to breathe. I couldn't help but look at my mother and ask, "Mom, is this stock transfer agreement actually real?"

But in the next second, right in front of all the high-society guests, my mother lashed out at me.

"Marsha, you are my biological daughter. You need to keep your distance so people don't whisper about favoritism!"

Then, the glowing comments drifted across my vision again.

[If the FL just swallows her pride and apologizes, her mom will hand over thirty percent of the shares instantly! The contract is already signed and waiting!]

[Don't be so stubborn, baby! Just give her a sweet smile and call her Mom. She would give you her whole heart if you just asked.]

[Ugh, I live for the daughter-pleasing-mother trope. It is a total mutual-healing vibe!]

Mom had always been like this, playing hard to get, desperate for my submission on the inside. And every time before, I had followed the comments' advice to appease her.

But now, I was done playing the eager-to-please puppet.

I looked at my mother, whose eyes held a flicker of expectation, and said quietly, "Understood, Ms. Eikenberry. From now on, you only have one daughter, and her name is Lexi."

Mom froze, completely blindsided by my response.

A collective gasp rippled through the ballroom as the guests began whispering furiously among themselves.

"What is wrong with Marsha tonight? Did she lose her mind?"

"How could she say something so heartless to Ms. Eikenberry? Her mother must be devastated."

Whether my mother was devastated or not, I did not care. I only knew that over the years, my own heart had been shattered into a million pieces.

Mom always did this, hiding behind the excuse of fairness.

"Marsha, you are my biological daughter. I cannot just hand you everything on a silver platter."

"Lexi is adopted. I have to show her extra care so she feels like she belongs."

When I first heard those words years ago, they felt like a knife to the chest. But then, the black text of the floating comments began to appear before my eyes.

I followed their instructions, swallowing my pride and begging for her affection, and she would always reward me with exactly what I wanted. That was when it clicked. Mom did not actually hate me; she just wanted to break me. She wanted me to crawl, to beg, to play the submissive, grateful daughter.

But I was exhausted. I was done playing her sick little game of emotional leverage.

The comments flashed across my screen again.

[What is wrong with the FL today? Why isn't she kissing up to her mom?]

[FL, go apologize right now! You can't just bully your mother like this!]

[Seeing the hurt on the mom's face is making me tear up. Poor mom.]

Reading the words, I instinctively looked up at the stage. Sure enough, Mom's eyes were rimmed with red. Catching my gaze, she forced down her vulnerability and glared at me with icy resolve.

"Marsha, what is the meaning of this? Are you cutting ties with me?"

Before I could answer, Lexi glided over to my side. She looked stunning in her designer ballgown, the diamond necklace around her neck catching the crystal chandeliers' light and glittering brilliantly.

Yet, just a week ago, on my own eighteenth birthday, I wore a faded t-shirt and jeans. We had a simple, quiet dinner at home.

"Marsha, Mom has money, but we shouldn't be wasteful," Lexi had whispered to me then. "Just the family celebrating is enough."

Except it was not a celebration for me at all. The dining table had been packed with Lexi's favorite dishes. At the time, I thought Lexi was not getting a party either, so I kept my mouth shut. It was not until last night, when I accidentally found Lexi's custom-made gown in her closet, that I realized Mom was planning a lavish, high-society debutante ball just for her.

Lexi's sweet, mocking voice brought me back to reality.

"Marsha, please don't break Mom's heart. You are her real daughter!"

"If you are upset about the shares, I can give them to you. I don't mind giving them up."

Give them to me?

A cold laugh escaped my lips. I was the biological daughter, yet I had to rely on the charity of an adopted sister. But Lexi was not lying. Everything I had ever received from Mom, through my tearful apologies and desperate pleading, had indeed been handed down after Lexi had her fill.

The comments flared up again.

[Lexi baby, that's a gift from your mother. Do not give it away!]

[The FL just needs to admit she's wrong, and her mom will forgive her instantly.]

[Apologize already! We are all waiting for the mother-daughter reconciliation arc!]

I forced myself to ignore the text. Without glancing at Lexi, I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit.

"Marsha Eikenberry! If you take one step out of this room, I will wash my hands of you!"

I paused. I could hear the collective sigh of relief from the crowd. Turning my head back slightly, I saw the tension hidden beneath my mother's mask of fury.

Just as the comments said, she did care about me in her own twisted way. But I refused to play her game any longer.

I looked at Lexi and offered a polite, empty smile.

"Congratulations. You are now the only child of the Eikenberry family."

Then, I walked out without looking back.

On the cab ride home, the comments kept spamming my vision.

[Oh honey, you are breaking your mother's heart!]

[When you get home, plan a sweet surprise for her. Tell her it was all a joke and say you're sorry. You have to apologize!]

[FL, you can't just rebel like this. I hate this kind of plot development!]

They were just lines of floating text, but the sheer volume of them made my head throb. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the noise. This time, I was going to live for myself.

But when I unlocked the front door, I was shocked to find Mom already waiting in the living room.

The comments immediately flared up.

[Look how much her mom cares. Her own daughter treated her like that, and her heart is bleeding.]

[Hurry up and run into her arms, FL!]

My resolve wavered. If she offered even a shred of warmth, a single word to ask me to stay, I knew I would break. I opened my mouth to speak, but Lexi came bouncing down the stairs. She shot me a smug, triumphant look, but when she turned to Mom, her voice was timid and trembling.

"Mom... are you sure you want me to supervise Marsha?"

Supervise? Before I could process the word, Mom's voice, devoid of any warmth, cut through the air.

"Yes. Keep a close eye on her."

"Since she wants to sever ties, let's make it official."

"Watch her pack. She is only allowed to take her personal belongings. Nothing else."

The harsh reality slapped me in the face, freezing the warmth that had briefly flickered in my chest. Yet, the comments were still making excuses for her.

[Apologize now! Your mom is just talking out of anger!]

[You are her biological daughter. If you just soften your tone, she will forgive you in a heartbeat!]

But being her biological daughter had never brought me peace, only a lifetime of silent suffering. I looked up, my gaze cold and dead.

"I won't take anything that belongs to the Eikenberrys."

Ignoring her burning gaze, I walked straight to my room. I pulled open my closet. Inside were rows of cheap, plain white t-shirts and worn-out jeans. Lexi's mocking voice drifted from the doorway.

"Marsha, look at this trash. I guess you really can only take these rags."

"You bought them with the pennies you earned from your embarrassing little jobs anyway. Leaving them here would just ruin the vibe of my house."

My hands paused over a folded shirt. She was not wrong. Ever since I was five years old, if I wanted something, I had to earn the money myself.

Two dollars for dusting, three for sweeping, five for doing the laundry... Even though we had a full-time housekeeper, I did most of the chores. Once, our housekeeper took pity on me and washed my clothes for me. When Mom found out, she fired her on the spot. I had begged and cried for the woman, but Mom remained unmoved.

"Marsha, you do your own work. This is the price of trying to take the easy way out and letting others do your job!"

Lexi had stood in the corner back then, giggling quietly while sweetly telling Mom not to ruin her mood over me.

Pushing the memories aside, I stuffed my clothes into my suitcase. As I zipped it up, I noticed Mom standing at the doorway, watching me silently. Lexi stepped forward, blocking my path.

"Wait, Marsha. Mom bought that suitcase. You can't take it."

I stared at my mother in disbelief, but she simply nodded.

"Do what Lexi says."

My heart turned to ash. I dumped my clothes onto the floor, pulled a bedsheet off my bed, wrapped them up in a crude bundle, and slung it over my shoulder. As I walked out, I heard Mom dialing her phone behind me.

"Cancel Marsha's credit cards. And transfer her university exchange spot to Lexi!"

I froze, a sharp pain piercing my chest. The money in my account was earned from my own part-time jobs. The university exchange program was a merit-based spot I had spent months studying to secure. Yet, with one phone call, Mom gave it all to Lexi.

Behind me, Lexi cooed, "Mom, is Marsha really leaving us for good?"

Mom let out a cold, dismissive laugh.

"She'll be back in a few days begging for mercy. Without the Eikenberry name, she is absolutely nothing."

But Mom was wrong. I had already secured a fully funded scholarship for an international exchange program. My flight was in three days.

It wasn't until I checked into a cheap motel that I finally let out a breath. My cards were frozen, but I had enough cash from my tutoring jobs to survive for three days. Once I settled in, I called the international admissions office.

"Hello, I just wanted to confirm... the exchange program covers full tuition and provides a monthly living stipend, correct?"

When the officer on the other end confirmed, the heavy weight on my chest lifted. I was finally going to escape this suffocating cage. But the comments were furious.

[FL, how can you just run away to Europe like this? Go back and apologize to your mother tomorrow!]

[Don't be so selfish! Your mother is crying her eyes out at home, and here you are celebrating your escape!]

[They say daughters are their mothers' sweet little angels, but you are just a cold-hearted brat.]

Ignoring the text, I opened my phone and scrolled through social media. The very first post was from Lexi.

[First day as an only child! Candlelight dinner with Mom~]

The attached photo showed Lexi and Mom smiling brightly, sharing steak and raising glasses of champagne. A bitter laugh escaped me. So this was the crying her eyes out the comments were talking about.

I went to close the app, but my finger slipped, and I accidentally liked the post. When I refreshed a second later, Lexi's post was gone. I knew her games. It was just another petty attempt to rub my nose in it. But the comments immediately defended her.

[Lexi is so sweet. She just wanted to show FL that she and Mom are doing fine, but did you see Mom's swollen eyes? She's clearly been crying.]

[The FL is way too much this time. She broke her mother's heart, and honestly, she is breaking ours too!]

I closed my eyes. No matter what they said, my mind was made up.

The next morning, a headline caught my attention. Mom had used her official public relations account to announce that Lexi was now the sole heir and only daughter of the Eikenberry family. My throat tightened, and I blinked back tears.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Mom.

[Marsha, if you come home and beg for my forgiveness, I might consider letting you back into this family.]

She had no idea that I no longer cared about being a Eikenberry.

For three days, I stayed in my room, ignoring the constant stream of nagging comments. When I was at home, I couldn't even sleep without worrying about how to make Mom happy. Now, for the first time in my life, I felt peace.

I packed my clothes into a cheap new suitcase I bought down the street and went to hand over my room key at the front desk. But when I opened the door, Mom was standing there, her face contorted with rage. Behind her stood a sniffling Lexi.

Before I could move, Lexi lunged forward and grabbed my arm, her sharp acrylic nails digging deep into my skin. Mom took a step forward, her eyes instinctively darting to my bleeding arm, but she stopped herself. She was waiting for me to break.

"Marsha, please give me back my diamond necklace!" Lexi sobbed. "I'd give you anything else, but that was my eighteenth birthday gift from Mom. You can't take it!"

Her grip tightened. Unable to bear the pain, I wrenched my arm away. Lexi collapsed to the floor with a dramatic cry. Mom immediately rushed to her side.

"Lexi! Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

Lexi shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm fine, Mom. As long as Marsha gives the necklace back, a little pain doesn't matter."

Glancing at the blood dripping from my arm, I said coldly, "I don't have your necklace, Lexi."

Before I could finish, Mom snapped.

"Stop lying, Marsha! Lexi only took that necklace off in your room, and now it's gone! You stole it!"

Her words felt like a physical blow. I thought I had grown numb, but why did it still hurt so much?

"I didn't steal it," I said quietly. "Maybe she misplaced it."

My refusal to back down pushed Mom over the edge.

"Search the room! Find that necklace!"

Six bodyguards stepped out from behind her. Before I could react, they barged into my room. Panic surged through me.

"What are you doing? This is illegal!"

Mom sneered. "Illegal? I'm your mother! You are only acting defensive because you are guilty."

I stared at her in shock. "I didn't do it! I'm not a thief!"

The comments floated by.

[Her mom is going to extreme lengths just to get her to apologize.]

[Yeah, her mom knows Lexi hid the necklace herself. She just used it as an excuse to see her daughter.]

[I hope FL realizes her mother's hidden love soon so they can make up.]

The words froze in my throat. So Mom knew. She knew Lexi was lying, yet she still came here to humiliate and break me. She just wanted to force me to my knees. But I wouldn't admit to something I didn't do.

"Mom..." Lexi whimpered.

Mom waved her hand dismissively. "Hold Marsha down. Search everything!"

Two large men grabbed my arms, pinning me to the wall. One of them squeezed right over my bleeding cut, and a sharp gasp escaped my lips. Mom's eyes flickered with a brief flash of worry. Lexi noticed and immediately chimed in, "Mom, I was just so desperate to find the necklace. I didn't mean to hurt her."

Mom patted Lexi's head gently.

"It's fine. She brought this on herself by stealing. She deserves to be punished."

I felt completely hollow. She knew the truth, yet she chose to frame me. The comments kept chanting:

[Look at her mom's face, her heart is breaking, but she has to stay strong to teach her a lesson.]

[FL, do you even know what a mother's love is? She only does this because she loves you so much!]

Love? I wanted to laugh. No real mother destroys her child in the name of love.

My arm throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. The bodyguards ripped my suitcase open, tearing my cheap clothes and scattering my underwear across the floor. The humiliation was suffocating. I closed my eyes, praying for it to end.

But they found nothing. Suddenly, Mom's phone rang.

"You found it? Fine. Got it."

Lexi let go of her act, and the bodyguards released me. My knees buckled, and I slid to the floor, exhausted. Lexi ran to Mom's side.

"Mom, did they find my necklace?"

Mom nodded. "Yes. Back at the house."

Lexi looked at me, then looked down. "I'm sorry, Mom. I was just so worried, I ended up hurting Marsha."

But Mom excused her instantly. "It's fine. She has a tongue, but she refused to explain herself. It's her own fault."

Then, Mom turned to the guards. "Bring her back to the estate."

"What? No! I have a"

Mom's icy gaze cut me off. "If you won't admit your mistakes, I'll have to teach you a lesson you won't forget."

She knew I was innocent, yet she was still going to lock me up. They dragged me to the basement of the estate, throwing me into the windowless storage room. Panic instantly clawed at my throat.

When I was a child, whenever I made a mistake, I was thrown in here. Over time, I developed severe claustrophobia. In the pitch black, my mind would fracture, leaving me paralyzed with terror. Eventually, I learned to play the perfect, obedient daughter just to avoid this room.

I curled into a ball in the corner, shaking violently. The comments kept scrolling.

[Her mom just wants to hear her say sorry. Stop being so stubborn, FL!]

[Your mom loves you the most. You have to understand her tough love.]

I couldn't even process the text through the tears.

Then, the heavy bolt on the door slid back. Lexi's smirking face appeared in the crack of light.

"Feeling lonely, Marsha? Don't worry, I brought some friends to keep you company."

She threw something heavy onto the floor and slammed the door shut, locking it. A dry, hissing sound echoed through the darkness. Lexi had thrown snakes into the room.

My scream died in my throat as absolute terror took over, and my world went black. When I finally woke up, the door was wide open, and the snakes were gone. From upstairs, I could hear Mom and Lexi's voices.

"Mom, what about Marsha?"

"Leave her. Let's go buy you those new dresses you wanted."

Once the front door slammed shut, I dragged my trembling body toward my phone, which had fallen out of my pocket. With shaking fingers, I dialed the only number that could save me.

"Hello... is there any way the university can send someone to pick me up?"