Chapter 2The Flower in the Slaughterhouse

There was a knock on the door.

I opened it to find my mother standing there.

Mom had a very innocent, beautiful face, but only I knew how terrifying she was.

Mom smiled and stared at me: "Take off your clothes."

"Mom..." I looked at her pleadingly.

But I still tremblingly took off my clothes, revealing a body covered in bruises and scars.

"Who did this? Hmm?" Mom's smile deepened.

But only I knew that Mom was very angry right now.

When she got angry, she liked to do terrible things.

When I was five, a boy in kindergarten pulled out a handful of my hair.

The next day, that boy went missing.

The news said he accidentally fell from a building and died.

But only I knew about the lollipop clutched in the boy's hand when he died.

It was the brand Mom liked to buy for me.

In elementary school, a female teacher thought I was poor and often mocked me.

Even though my desk mate and I shared cleaning duties, she always assigned the dirtiest, most tiring tasks to me.

Watching me slip and fall in the bathroom while carrying a heavy bucket of water, the teacher laughed loudly.

I didn't dare tell my family.

Although I hated that teacher, I didn't want my family to do bad things.

But Mom, being sharp, found out anyway.

Not long after, I saw the news of that teacher's death.

She was tortured to death by several thugs on her way home at night.

Her arms and legs were broken while she was alive.

When I saw the photos of those thugs, my blood froze.

Because I had clearly seen Mom chatting and laughing with them near our house.