My son was prone to rage, a violent bully.

Even as I lay dying, he was hitting me: "You old hag, who the hell do you think you are, trying to tell me what to do?"

My young daughter threw herself over me, but it didn’t stop his fists: "Get off, you useless brat! Move, or I'll beat you too!"

Then I opened my eyes. I was back, one year earlier.

I gently reminded my husband, "Remember to just give him whatever he wants, indulge his every whim. Otherwise, he might actually kill you, you know."

1.

The moment I opened my eyes, I saw my son frantically smashing things.

As he wrecked the room, he screamed, "You old hag, if you don't buy me that new PlayStation, get the hell out of my house!"

My daughter was terrified, sobbing loudly.

"Shut up or I'll choke you!" he shrieked, grabbing a vase and hurling it. I quickly shielded my daughter. Ceramic shards hit my forehead, and blood instantly welled up.

He didn't even notice, just kept throwing things at me.

I wiped away the blood, numbly cleaning up the mess.

Then, I looked him straight in the eye and refused sternly: "No. I'm not buying it."

He blinked, stunned that I’d contradicted him for the first time, then exploded with rage: "Damn you, why won't you buy it for me? Why the hell not!"

I looked at my son's face, twisted with hatred, murder flashing in his eyes, and my heart went cold.

He was my firstborn, the Jones family's golden boy, showered with affection since birth. My in-laws treated him like a precious jewel, spoiling him rotten. As a result, he grew up arrogant and aggressive.

Every time I tried to set boundaries, my in-laws and my husband shut me down.

"He's just a kid," they'd say. "He'll grow out of it."

But if the roots are rotten, can the tree grow straight?

In my past life, my own stupidity led to my miserable end.

How could I have been so naive, believing he would magically change as he got older?

How could I have believed my husband when he said every family needs someone to sacrifice, convincing me to become a stay-at-home mom?

Letting his whole family treat me like the Jones's maid. Even the child knew I deserved no respect.

And now, this fifteen-year-old boy, already tall and strong, wanted to hit me again…

Thinking of this, I dodged his incoming fist and slapped him hard across the face.

"Because I'm your mother! You're a student, you can't be obsessed with video games!"

He was stunned, frozen for a moment. Then he lunged at me, fists flying. "I'm gonna kill you today!"

Quick as lightning, I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. "If I can't control you, maybe we should both just end it!"

He swallowed hard, fear flickering in his eyes. Pointing a shaking finger at me, he backed away towards the door. "Fine! Just fine! You wait! I'll have my dad deal with you when he gets back!"

He slammed the door behind him. I finally let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

My daughter ran to me, crying. "Mommy, are you okay?"

Her chubby little hands touched my bruised cheek, trying to soothe the sting. "Mommy, does it hurt?"

Tears welled up in my eyes. "When Lily kisses it better, it doesn't hurt anymore."

In my past life, after my son killed me, my daughter's life was hell.

Grandparents ignored her, Dad didn't care, her brother bullied her relentlessly. She ended up an orphan, unwanted by everyone.

This time, I wouldn't let history repeat itself.

2.

My husband's call came an hour later.

The second I answered, he roared, "Sarah, what the hell is this about you kicking Kevin out of the house?!"

"He's just a kid! So he wants to play some games, big deal! Did you have to make such a scene? Do you have any idea how hard I work, busting my ass day and night to support you, him, and that... other kid? And you're still not satisfied! Can't I even have peace of mind on a business trip?"

I held the phone away from my ear, interrupting his tirade coldly, "If you're on a business trip, then focus on your work. When you get back, we need to settle things between us."

The yelling continued on the other end, but I had already hung up.

I used to have a steady career. He was the one who sweet-talked me into quitting, saying he'd handle the finances, and I should focus on the home.

My in-laws supposedly came to help with the kids, but really, they just wanted me to wait on them hand and foot. On top of raising the children, I had to care for them too. I was exhausted every single day.

When we disagreed on how to raise Kevin, their boundless spoiling drained me completely.

Later, Mark convinced me to have a second child, promising that his parents would take over childcare afterward, freeing me up to go back to work.

But after Lily was born, my in-laws changed their tune right outside the delivery room, calling her a "money pit" and saying the Jones family didn't want a girl.

From then on, I raised two children alone. Going back to work became a distant dream.

My life revolved around my husband and kids. Going out meant school runs and grocery shopping. Over time, I stopped bothering with makeup or dressing up.

Eventually, I became the "old hag" my husband complained about, and my son picked up the term, using it too.

Not long after I hung up, I got a call from the neighborhood security.

My son, Kevin, had gotten into a fight with another boy in the community park's fitness area. He started it.

As soon as I arrived, the other boy's parent started yelling.

"How do you raise your kid? He's like some rabid animal, attacking people for no reason! My son didn't even look at him, and yours just punched him! You think you can just bully people?"

"Yeah, grandson! Let me see him again, I'll beat the crap out of him!" my son snarled from the side.

The neighbor was furious. "We're calling the police! No settling this privately!"

I bowed my head, apologized profusely, and promised to pay double for all medical expenses before they finally, reluctantly, let it go.

Walking away from the security office, my son sneered at me, "Wimp. So what if we have to pay? Dad's loaded. Like we can't afford it. Should've beaten him harder!"

"That's disgraceful! Go home, now!" I yelled at him.

He froze.

Then he gave me a hard shove and stomped off towards home.

Back inside, Kevin sprawled on the sofa and ordered me around, "I'm hungry. Go buy me Popeyes."

Looking at his arrogant face, treating me like his servant, I wanted to laugh bitterly.

In my past life, he was always this defiant. I tried to reach him with love, gave in to his every demand, which only made him think I was afraid of his father and grandparents yelling at me.

Now, it was clear. This child was beyond saving.

"I don't have any money. Ask your father."

First, I didn't approve of him constantly eating fried chicken, soda, and burgers.

Second, his attitude towards me was truly chilling.

Kevin glared at me. "Dad gives you money for expenses! Go buy it!"

Just then, the doorbell rang. It was my best friend, Brenda.

She saw us staring each other down and looked surprised. "What's wrong? Look how upset Kevin is."

"I want Popeyes, and the old hag won't buy it for me!"

Brenda immediately played peacemaker, pulling Kevin onto the sofa, cooing softly, "If Mommy won't buy it, Auntie Brenda will."

With that, Brenda took out her phone, handed it to Kevin, and told him to order whatever he wanted.

As Kevin ordered, he shot me a warning glare, daring me to object.

He'd been overweight for two years already. The doctor said absolutely no fried foods, especially chicken and soda. I tried to enforce it strictly every day, but his father, grandparents, and even Brenda constantly snuck him extra treats.

Two years of trying to lose weight, and he only got fatter.

In stark contrast to Kevin's selfish rebellion, my daughter Lily was a true sweetheart, well-behaved and adorable.

I decided to ignore my son. I went with Lily to her room, helped her set up her drawing supplies, and while she was busy drawing, I went to the kitchen to start dinner.

Kevin was gorging himself in the living room, practically draped over Brenda, praising her effusively.

Then I heard him say, "Auntie Brenda, you should be my mom instead. I can't stand that old hag anymore, she ruins everything!"

Brenda giggled, covering her mouth. "What nonsense are you talking!"

"It's true! Auntie Brenda, please be my mom."

The spatula in my hand suddenly felt heavy, slipping slightly. A deep chill spread through my heart.

For this marriage, for this son, I had done more than enough. Enough was enough.

3.

Mark suddenly walked in. Kevin's scowl vanished instantly, and he ran happily to hug his father.

"Dad, you're finally back!"

Mark hugged Kevin back tightly. "Hey, buddy! Dad missed you like crazy."

"Daddy."

Lily left the dinner table too, wanting to greet her father, but Mark coldly pushed her away.

My daughter's lower lip trembled, and she looked at me with pleading eyes. I went over and carried her back to her chair.

Father and son completely ignored this. Kevin pointed an accusing finger at me. "Dad, she wouldn't let me have fried chicken and soda! And she hit me!"

He pointed to his cheek. "It really hurts."

Mark shot me an angry glare, then handed the family bucket of chicken he was holding to Kevin. He said loudly, clearly for me to hear, "Eat up, son. Eat all you want. It's my money she's spending anyway. Who dares tell my precious boy he can't have what he wants!"

They say depending on someone else financially is hard. Mark proved it point-blank.

He believed that as long as I asked him for living expenses, I had to obey his commands.

He pulled Kevin over towards me, his tone commanding, "Apologize to your son. You went too far."

I replied firmly, "Absolutely not."

He roared at me, "If you don't apologize, I'll cut off support for you and the girl! I'll only provide for Kevin!"

So, the son belonged to the Jones family, but the daughter was solely mine.

I hadn't expected him to care for Lily, but hearing him say it out loud still stung.

"Bullshit!" I retorted forcefully.

Mark froze. It was the first time I'd defied him so openly in front of someone else, and with Kevin waiting for him to assert his authority. He became furious, raising his hand to slap me. "You rebellious bitch!"

I looked at him coldly. "I want a divorce."

His raised hand stopped mid-air. He was stunned, unable to believe that I, who had always revolved around him, would initiate a divorce.

Then, as if hearing a joke, he started laughing, the flesh on his face trembling. "Your parents practically disowned you, and you've got that brother living there now. Where are you gonna go if you divorce me? Do you even know your own worth?"

"If you behave, apologize to Kevin, and beg his forgiveness, maybe I'll give you one more chance."

I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out the divorce papers. "I've already signed. Kevin goes with you, Lily comes with me."

His eyes flickered down to my signature, confirming I was serious. He sneered, "You're the one asking for the divorce. Fine, but don't expect a dime from me for you two."

"No problem."

Mark glared at me. Maybe my initiating the divorce wounded his pride. He laughed mockingly, "Talk is cheap. You think you can actually support that... girl... without me?"

I said, "Why don't you take both of them?"

Mark fell silent for a moment.

Brenda quickly interjected, "Sarah, what are you thinking? They say daughters are a comfort. You don't want either of them? You'll regret this later."

I stared straight at Mark, asking again, "I can't afford both. Will you take them both?"

The Jones family had always called Lily a "money pit"; they would never agree to take her. I was just calling his bluff.

Kevin sneered at me, "Whoever had the useless kid can take her. The Jones family doesn't raise useless kids."

Then, with an air of superiority, he added, "If you apologize to me right now, maybe I'll feel sorry for you and ask Dad to give you some child support."

In that instant, it felt like a thousand needles were pricking my heart.

Kevin was a carbon copy of Mark – arrogant, condescending, exactly like his father.

In the last couple of years, Mark's business had taken off, his office space getting bigger and bigger. Money had completely inflated his ego. Inflated it so much he thought I couldn't possibly survive without this house, without him.

In this home, I received zero respect.

Mark was clearly pleased with Kevin's performance. "Good boy. Dad will buy you the latest game console tomorrow."

Kevin's face lit up immediately. He looked at me like I was an eyesore. "Dad, hurry up and sign the papers so she leaves! Let her take the useless kid. She'll come crying and begging you later."

4.

Mark smirked cruelly. "Take the girl and get out, and I'll sign."

I said, "Fine, I'll take her. But you need to give me some financial compensation. How else am I supposed to raise her?"

Perhaps afraid I'd drag things out, Mark didn't hesitate much. He actually gave me a sum of money.

"Okay," I said. "From now on, if Kevin needs anything, you can't come to me. Likewise, even if we end up begging on the streets, we will never come to you."

"You remember what you said."

Mark quickly signed the agreement, his fat trembling slightly. "Remember! Don't come crawling back, even if you're begging!"

"The same goes for you and your son," I shot back.

My wonderful son sneered at me, "Just get lost already! Once you're gone, Dad can take me to buy that game console."

Brenda stood by, putting on a show of trying to reconcile us. "Oh dear, why divorce? Surely you can work things out?"

I gave her a cold, knowing look.

In my past life, when I was heavily pregnant with my second child and started hemorrhaging, I called Mark to take me to the hospital.

He said he was busy, told me to take a taxi.

But then I saw Brenda's social media post. A familiar pair of hands, a familiar watch.

That night, I was alone in the hospital fighting for my life. Because they couldn't reach him, my parents had to come and sign the consent forms for surgery.

Afterward, Brenda came to visit me in the hospital.

She gushed about the diamond necklace her "boyfriend" had given her that night, how he took her shopping, bought her designer bags, how they embraced on a bed covered in heart-shaped rose petals...

For the sake of the children, I chose to play deaf and dumb.

In public, I forced a smile.

Behind closed doors, I cried constantly. The resentment festered inside me, unresolved. My daughter never even got a drop of breast milk because of the stress.

I had failed my daughter.

My husband and my best friend had been together for ages. My precious son thought Brenda would treat him well.

He didn't understand. Brenda was spoiling him rotten, setting him up for failure! He wasn't her flesh and blood. Whether he became obese or terminally ill, what did it matter to her?

As for Mark, that scumbag? Once he had new children with Brenda, would he still care about Kevin?

But... it was none of my business anymore.

Since Kevin didn't want me as his mother, I didn't want him either.