Reborn: Exposing My Toxic Mother's Deadly Lies

My mother was a pathological liar. She loved playing the victim, and she always used me as her scapegoat.

When I was a kid, she stayed out late at her poker games and forgot to cook dinner.

In front of the whole family, she slapped me hard across the face.

This brat ran off somewhere, and I had to spend hours looking for her! Thats why dinner isn't ready!

As a punishment, I was locked out in the freezing backyard all night.

During middle school, before a crucial exam, the teacher repeatedly reminded parents to pack all the required materials.

But Mom didn't pack anything for me. Afterward, she stood in front of my classmates and lied.

"I packed everything for her. She just didn't want to take the test, so she threw them away on her way to school!"

For the rest of my school years, I was completely isolated by everyone.

When I grew up, she would often cry to me late at night.

"Your father has abused me for so many years. I only stayed in this marriage for you."

Out of pity, I advised her to get a divorce. But she turned around, twisted my words, and ran straight to my father.

"Your daughter is begging me to divorce you! She said she doesn't want a loser father like you! I couldn't bear to listen to her, so I had to tell you!"

My father flew into a violent rage. In the heat of the moment, he pushed me down the stairs. I died instantly.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my mother first cried to me about my father...

"Chloe, your father is a monster..."

"If it weren't for you, I would have left him a long time ago."

My mother's familiar voice echoed in my ears.

I gasped, my eyes flying open. I saw my mother sitting on the edge of my bed, tears streaming down her face.

Hearing the exact same words from my past life, I finally realizedI had been reborn.

"My life has been so miserable..."

She held my hand, her tears falling onto my skin.

Just like in my past life, her act was incredibly convincing.

This time, I didn't rush to comfort her. I just quietly wiped her tears off my hand.

"Mom," I said softly, "Dad... can really be too much sometimes."

Sensing that she had found an outlet, she cried even harder.

"He doesn't care about this family! He keeps all the money to himself! He makes us live like beggars!"

"Last week, I told him I wanted a new dress, and he screamed at me like I was trash!"

I listened quietly, mocking her in my mind.

Last week?

Last week, Dad literally bought her a gold necklace. She had bragged about it to her poker friends, claiming she bought it with her own secret savings.

"And yesterday!" She sniffled. "I just wanted to have a steak, and he threw his fork, calling me wasteful!"

Yesterday, Dad was away on a business trip and didn't get home until midnight.

I reached out and gently patted her back.

"Mom, don't make yourself sick over this."

She immediately grabbed my hand like a lifeline.

"You understand me! Only you understand me!"

Her tears flowed on command. Her acting was flawless.

"I can't live like this for another day! If it weren't for you, I would have..."

She stopped abruptly, her eyes secretly scanning my face to see my reaction.

In my past life, I had fallen for it. I had said:

"If it weren't for me, you would have divorced him, right? I'm so sorry you had to suffer for me, Mom..."

I thought it was a warm moment of mother-daughter bonding. But she immediately twisted my words and painted me as the ungrateful daughter who tried to break up her parents' marriage.

In this life, I would never make the same mistake.

"Mom," I interrupted her, my voice remaining calm and gentle. "This is between you and Dad. You are both adults. Whatever you choose to do, it's your decision."

My mother froze. Her crying stopped instantly.

A flash of confusion crossed her face. She clearly hadn't expected this response.

In my past life, I would have already been raging alongside her.

"Chloe, what... what do you mean by that? Isn't Mom doing all of this for you?"

"For me?" I looked at her, my eyes calm. "Mom, I'm an adult now. Your happiness shouldn't be tied to me."

My mother's eyes began to dart around.

She let go of my hand and hurriedly wiped her tears.

"Are you... are you tired of me? Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No," I shook my head. "I just think this is a marital issue. As your daughter, it's not appropriate for me to interfere."

Look at her.

She didn't want a divorce at all.

She just needed the "sacrificing for my child" excuse to gain sympathy, making all her complaints and demands seem justified.

I sneered inwardly and spoke slowly.

"Mom, I'm a bit tired."

My mother froze, staring at me as if trying to figure out if I was lying.

She opened her mouth, wanting to say more.

But I beat her to it. I lay down and turned my back to her.

"Mom, you should get some rest too."

It was quiet behind me for a moment.

Finally, I heard her stand up and walk toward the door.

"Fine. Go to sleep then."

By midnight, there was no sound outside. I finally relaxed, thinking she didn't suspect anything.

But the next second, a faint voice coming from the crack of the door made my blood run cold.

My mother was sneaking around in the kitchen, making a phone call. Her voice was filled with an excitement she couldn't hide.

"Don't worry, she didn't suspect a thing... Wait for my next move."

The next morning, my mother woke me up as if nothing had happened.

"Chloe, wake up! I made you some fried eggs."

She smiled too lovingly. A chill ran down my spine. Something felt off.

Dad was sitting at the table reading the newspaper, not even looking up.

"Mark, eat more," my mother said, pushing the milk toward him, her voice sickeningly sweet.

This unusual harmony was even more alarming than her crying yesterday.

What was going on?

Did she find out something?

After breakfast, my mother affectionately held my arm.

"Chloe, can you come to the bank with me? Something is wrong with my debit card. You're young and understand this stuff. Help me check it."

My heart skipped a beat.

This didn't happen in my past life.

Why was she suddenly asking me to go to the bank?

To keep her from suspecting anything, I forced a smile and nodded.

"Sure."

At the bank, my mother dragged her feet at the counter.

"Oh dear, I forgot my password again..."

The bank teller looked annoyed.

My mother suddenly grabbed me. "Chloe, did you bring your Social Security card and ID? Let's just open a new account under your name for now to handle this. I'll transfer the money back later."

The desperation in her eyes wasn't because she forgot her password. She was waiting for me to take the bait.

I suddenly remembered that in my past life, around this time, she had asked for my SSN and ID under the guise of "helping me invest."

A month later, a massive fraudulent loan was taken out in my name.

"I didn't bring them," I said apologetically. "Mom, why don't you go home and find Dad's ID instead?"

My mothers face instantly darkened, but she quickly forced a creepy smile.

"You silly child, always so forgetful..."

On the way back from the bank, she was silent.

When we got close to our apartment, she suddenly stopped.

"Chloe, look. Is that Mrs. Davis over there?"

I looked in the direction she pointed. The entrance of the building was completely empty.

"Where? I don't see Mrs. Davis."

As I turned back, my heart plummeted. I saw my mothers hand quickly pulling away from my coat pocket.

She had put something in my pocket.

"Maybe I saw wrong," she said casually, walking ahead.

I forced myself to stay calm and reached into my pocket. My fingers touched a small, hard, rectangular object.

It wasn't money.

I pretended to tie my shoelace, pulled it out, and took a quick glance. It was a strange, unregistered SIM card.

My heart stopped.

Why did she want my ID and this unregistered SIM card?

Was my tragic death in my past life connected to this?

Come to think of it, the balcony railing just happened to break at that exact time, causing me to fall.

Something was definitely wrong.

That night, while taking a shower, I flushed the SIM card down the drain.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, my mother was standing at the door with a glass of milk, smiling warmly.

"Chloe, drink some milk before bed. It helps you sleep."

I stared at the white liquid.

In my past life, she was always this "thoughtful."

"Thanks, Mom." I took the glass.

I walked back into my room and poured the milk straight into a potted plant.

Late at night, I was awakened by a faint sound.

Under the crack of my door, the light from the living room was partially blocked.

Someone was standing right outside my door.

I held my breath. I heard my mother's whispered, amused voice, speaking to someone on her phone:

"Everything is set... This time, I'll make sure nothing goes wrong."

"After all, she failed the test last time, didn't she?"

The blood in my veins completely froze.

Test? What did she mean by that?

The footsteps outside faded, but I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night.

The next morning, my mother was busy in the kitchen again.

"Chloe, I made your favorite pasta."

She blew on it and brought it to my mouth.

"Here, eat it while it's hot."

I looked at her and didn't move.

Her eyes welled with tears. "I know you've been stressed lately, but you have to eat."

I took the bowl. "I'll do it myself."

I pretended to take a bite, but deliberately flipped my wrist, spilling the hot pasta all over my clothes.

"Oh my god!" my mother shrieked, jumping up.

A flash of intense disappointment crossed her eyes.

It wasn't concern. It was... anger because her plan had failed.

She quickly switched back to a worried mother. "Did you get burned? Oh, sweetie, how could you be so careless!"

She rushed over, frantically wiping me down, but her nails dug painfully into my arm.

Half an hour later, my stomach began to cramp violently.

I rushed to the bathroom and threw up everything.

My mother stood at the door. There was no panic in her voice, only a chilling, expected calmness.

"See? That's what happens when you don't eat breakfast. Your stomach is ruined."

My vision blurred, and cold sweat soaked my clothes.

Dad came out of his room, hearing the noise.

"What's going on?"

My mother immediately began her performance, pointing at me dramatically.

"Your daughter is such a picky eater! She refuses to eat anything I make! She claims my cooking is trash and now she's given herself food poisoning!"

The next second, she patted my head gently, pretending to be understanding.

"Forget it, I shouldn't argue with a child."

"Quick, Mark, drive her to the hospital!"

In the emergency room, the doctor took one look at my symptoms and diagnosed me.

"Food poisoning. We need to pump her stomach."

The nurse brought over a consent form. "She needs to fast completely before the procedure."

I nodded weakly.

My mother suddenly grabbed the nurse's hand. "No way! She hasn't eaten anything. How can she survive on an empty stomach!"

"Ma'am, this is hospital policy..."

"What policy! My daughter is about to collapse!" She turned around, holding a bowl of noodles from God knows where. "Chloe, listen to Mom. Just take one bite!"

The fork was shoved forcefully against my lips.

I clamped my mouth shut and turned my head away.

"Mom... the doctor said... I can't eat..."

"What do doctors know! I'm doing this for your own good!" her voice cracked with fake tears. "Are you trying to starve yourself to death?"

She grabbed my shoulders roughly.

I kept my lips sealed. The hot sauce smeared on my face, burning my skin.

"The patient must fast!" the nurse tried to stop her.

My mother shoved her away. "She's my daughter! I decide!"

The room fell into utter chaos.

The doctor rushed in, his face grim. "What is going on with this family?"

My mother immediately let go of me.

She took a step back, her tears falling instantly. She pointed at me and cried to the doctor:

"Doctor, please talk to her! She was crying because she was so hungry and insisted on eating. I... I had no choice but to feed her..."

Lying on the bed, watching her performance, I felt completely cold.

The doctor frowned. "She clearly refused to eat just now."

My mother's crying stopped abruptly.

She widened her eyes, looking at the doctor and then at me in disbelief, as if she was the one who had been deeply wronged.

"Chloe... how... how could you lie? You were the one who begged me for pasta!"

She turned to the other patients in the room, seeking validation.

"This child is just so stubborn... even when she's sick, she has to torture me..."

The doctor didn't have time for her drama. He pushed my bed straight into the procedure room and started the stomach pump.

The moment the tube was inserted down my throat, I stared blankly at my mother's silhouette outside the glass door.

Standing in the shadows of the hallway, the corner of her mouth seemed to... curve upward.

The moment the procedure was over and the doctor left the room, my mother rushed to my bedside.

"Chloe, I know it hurts."

Her tears were fast and convincing.

"It's all my fault for not taking good care of you..."

Dad stood by the side, his face dark.

My mother suddenly turned to him, her voice trembling. "Mark, Chloe was murmuring things while she was half-conscious..."

My heart tightened. I didn't know what kind of trick she was playing now.

The next second, she grabbed my hand tightly, her voice full of grievance.

"She said... she said she can't stand this family anymore. She begged me... begged me to divorce you!"

Dad glared at me instantly.

"She said you're a loser, and she'd rather not have you as a father!"

"Bullshit!" I struggled to sit up, but my throat felt like it was on fire.

My mother held me down, sobbing hysterically.

"Mark! She's in this state, why would I lie! She said it herself!"

Dads chest heaved violently, his eyes bloodshot.

"You ungrateful brat!" He shoved my mother aside and lunged at me.

"Dad! She's lying!"

My mother grabbed Dad's waist from behind, screaming at me, "Chloe, run! Your dad is going to kill you!"

She looked like she was holding him back, but she was actually pushing him toward me.

Triggered by her actions, Dad completely lost control. He grabbed a glass cup from the table and threw it at me.

I rolled over to dodge. Shattered glass flew everywhere.

"You rebellious brat!" Dad broke free from her grip, lunging at me like a madman.

I ran out of the room and headed for the stairs.

"Stop her! Don't let her do anything stupid!" my mother screamed from behind, her voice laced with hidden excitement.

Dad's heavy footsteps chased close behind.

Weakened from the stomach pumping, I couldn't run far before Dad grabbed my arm.

He dragged me to the car and locked me inside. No matter how much I begged, he only replied coldly:

"Just wait until we get home."

The front door of our apartment was kicked open.

I was thrown violently onto the living room floor.

"I am going to beat some respect into you today!"

He grabbed my hair and dragged me toward the balcony.

"Weren't you trying to force your mother to kill herself? You can go first!"

My mother rushed over, grabbing Dad's arm, her voice shrieking, "Mark! No! That's your daughter!"

But her body was strategically blocking my path back to the living room.

Dad threw me onto the balcony.

My back slammed against the railing. The rusted metal gave a sharp creak, shaking slightly.

Dad approached me, his knuckles cracking.

"Dad! Look at Mom! Look at what she's doing!" I screamed hoarsely.

With bloodshot eyes, Dad couldn't hear a word.

My mother was crouching slightly behind Dad, her hands resting weakly on the railing, pretending to cry and beg.

"Mark, please, don't do this to her..."

But in Dad's blind spot, her right hand was hidden under her palm, quickly turning the loose screw at the base of the railing, turn after turn.

Her movements were practiced and completely silent.

In my past life, at this exact moment, that screw had been loosened the exact same way.

Why did my mother want me dead so badly?

Was I destined to die the same tragic death in this life too?

No, I refused to accept this.

I stared at my mother's face, watching her flawless performance, and suddenly, everything clicked.

I finally understood!

I finally figured out why she needed me dead!