Mom, I Don't Blame You Anymore
On my fifth birthday, my parents showed up at my birthday party later than usual. They brought with them a skinny little girl who couldn't seem to speak at all.
I rushed over, hoping to hug Mom, only to get knocked down by her. That was how I fell into the ten-foot cake that my parents had specifically picked out for me. Buttercream filled my nose and mouth, suffocating me to no end.
When I managed to climb out of the mess, I burst out in tears and asked Dad to cuddle me. But Dad retracted his hands while looking conflicted.
"Don't blame your mom, Willow. From now on, you must take good care of Maple, your little sister. As long as Maple is happy, your mom will be happy."
Later on, the m
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