Chapter 1The Rebellious Canary

Ever since I was little, I was an obedient and well-behaved girl. At thirteen, when my mother decided she didn't want to raise me anymore and coldly told me to get out, I obediently packed my two bags of clothes and left.

Right after kicking me out, she told my aunt, "She's just a burden. How am I supposed to remarry if I have to drag her along?"

My aunt tried to persuade her, "She's your own flesh and blood, no matter what. If you raise her now, she'll take care of you when you're old."

My mom couldn't have cared less. "Chloe has always been obedient. She listens to whatever I say. Even if I don't raise her now, when I'm old, all I have to do is call her, and she'll come running back to serve me hand and foot."

I carried my two bags of clothes to my dad's house. My dad didn't want to raise me either; he didn't even want to let me in the door.

He told me, "Chloe, it's not that Dad doesn't want to raise you, but I'm getting married soon. Your stepmother said we're going to have our own baby, and I really can't afford to raise you."

Finally, he added, "This isn't my fault. You're my daughter. Whether I raise you or not, when I'm old, you still have to take care of me. It's the law of nature."

My parents always thought I was obedient, sensible, and completely incapable of rebelling.

But they didn't know me at all. I was never a good girl; I was a rebel who was just very good at pretending!

* * *

My parents got divorced because I was a girl. My deeply patriarchal grandmother went crazy and forcefully threw my custody to my mother.

Saying things like "a little girl should be with her mother." My mom had no choice but to reluctantly take me in and bring me back to my grandmother's (her mother's) house.

The following year was bitterly miserable. I had to get up early every day to cook for the whole family, and when I got home from school at night, I had to do all the laundry.

If I didn't finish the laundry, I wasn't allowed to sleep.

My mom didn't care how hard I worked. She nagged in my ear every day: "Your grandparents are animals, and you don't even have my last name. Why should I raise you! I'm keeping you by my side now, so you should be eternally grateful to me. If I tell you to die, you have to die!"

Every time I listened to her vent her anger with these roars, I would meekly nod: "Mom, I will be eternally grateful to you. If you tell me to die today, I'll hang myself tomorrow. I will absolutely not be a burden to you."

Seeing how submissive I was, she would always nod in satisfaction, a look of triumph in her eyes.

I could endure anything. When my grandmother called me a useless wretch who only knew how to eat, I just kept my head down and stayed silent.

My grandfather only liked my aunt's son. No matter how much my cousin hit me, my grandfather would only praise him: "Good hit! My grandson is so strong. When he grows up, he'll definitely be a general. Not like your sister, she's a purebred loser." And I never argued back.

Whether I was beaten or scolded, I never fought back. Not because I was stupid, but because I knew deeply that rebellion was useless and would only bring more torment.

I thought if I swallowed my anger like this, my mom would definitely raise me until I was an adult before kicking me out.

Facts proved I was wrong.

My mom fell in love. Her new boyfriend clearly told her that he would absolutely not raise a piece of baggage like me. Once they got married, they were going to have their own biological child.

Faced with a choice between love and me, my mom didn't hesitate for a second and immediately chose to abandon me.

She pointed at my nose and told me to get out: "Do you know how hard it was for me to raise you for thirteen years? Do you know how much I sacrificed for you? Now your mother is finally heading towards a happy harbor, don't even think about delaying me."

Her words sounded ridiculous to me. It was as if I was the one who forced her to sleep with my dad and get pregnant.

"Can't I stay at Grandma's house?" I asked her.

My mom rolled her eyes at me: "If you don't eat or wear clothes, I'll let you stay at Grandma's house!"

How could a person not eat or wear clothes? I understood what my mom meant; she just didn't want to raise me anymore.

I always knew in my heart that she would abandon me sooner or later, I just didn't expect it to happen so fast.

"Pack your things now and leave this place! I don't care where you go, just never come back." Her voice was laced with a warning as she said this.

Just like before, I didn't argue, I didn't cry or make a fuss, I didn't even ask another question. I just obediently nodded, turned around, and walked into that tiny, broken, dirty side room piled with junk that belonged solely to me.

I simply packed my luggage, which consisted entirely of old clothes.

I found two plastic garbage bags, stuffed all the clothes inside, and carrying the two heavy bags, I slowly walked out of the room, inching my way out the front door step by step.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, my mom couldn't wait to slam the door shut with a loud "BANG."

I tightly gripped the plastic bags, not going downstairs immediately.