Chapter 172: Episode 33 – Reading Again (3)
Translator: Rainbow Turtle
My mother was silent for a moment. The silence cheered me up a bit. The fact that my mother expected me to love her and the idea that I could hurt her feelings excited me.
However, my mother spoke in a tone that sounded like she had expected it. “Hrmm, I see.”
“I still wanted to try it. It could've ended your fate. In any case, you still have a lot of lives left.”
“Don't speak like you are doing this for me.”
“I love you.”
I got goosebumps. Why was she suddenly saying this? “What does this mean?”
“I am your mother.”
I looked at my smiling mother and one corner of my heart ached. Did she really believe that such words were acceptable? A decade's worth of suffering alone couldn't be denied because of these words.
I glared at my mother.
Mother, love…
I didn't use Lie Detection on her. Sometimes there were such words in the world. Even if it was true, it was painful enough to be called false.
I sighed and said, “It's too late.”
“I know.”
“Then why…”
“I just wanted to say it once. I don't think I've ever told you before.”
We fell silent and didn't say anything for a while. Only the second hand of the wall clock told me that time was passing by. It was like a page with nothing on it. Like a writer squeezing out my first sentence, I barely managed to open my mouth. “…How was your life in prison?”
“You often came to see me. Is there a need…”
“You didn't tell me anything.”
“Why didn't you say anything? I went to see you so many times…”
I didn't hate my mother from the beginning.
Even when my mother killed my father.
Even when she went to jail.
Even when my relatives rushed to take our assets and I was treated like a leftover product.
I didn't hate or blame my mother.
“How can a person be so shameless?” The reason why I hated my mother was simple. “Why did you remain silent? And why… did you write such a story?”
Someone might say this: You became rich. Isn't it good that she sold the book? I didn't know if the royalties from my mother helped my life. My relatives always treated me like I wasn't a person.
“I had a really hard time. Whenever I went to school, walked on the streets or met someone, it seemed like everyone was talking about me. It was the same when I moved schools. Every time, I was the son of a murderer.”
Those who had never experienced it would never know. The world was tenacious. The reporters stood in front of my house and it felt like all eyes in the world were chasing me.
“Maybe, just maybe, I could've endured it.”
It might've been okay if my mother had said something to me. If she told me to endure it, I could've. If only my mother had told me she was on my side, even if she sold our story for money.
[The 'Fourth Wall' is shaking violently.]
[The stigma 'Self-rationalization Lv. 2' has been activated!]
I looked at my mother. I hadn't misunderstood. My mother sold our lives to earn money.
Then my mother opened her mouth. “I wanted to know.”
“Know what?”
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ungnyeo)
Chapter end
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