The Fitness Coach Mother Broke Her Daughter With A Watch Chapter 02

The Fitness Coach Mother Broke Her Daughter With A Watch Chapter 02

My body lay faceup, but my head, too heavy to turn with it, remained twisted to one side.

Anyone who looked closely would have seen that my head and body were positioned all wrong, almost unnaturally so.

But Mom was too busy fussing over Mia to notice.

All I could hear was her cursing at me.

“Chloe, how could you be this cruel?”

“That was Mia! Your own sister!”

“You’re a girl too. How would you feel if your face got smashed up like that?”

The more she spoke, the angrier she became. Then she simply raised her hand and slapped me across the face again.

“You just have to fight me on everything, don’t you? You have to go against Mia too!”

“How did I end up raising something so lazy and so vicious? I wasted every bit of love I ever gave you!”

The crack of the slap rang through the crowd, and some students covered their eyes in fear.

Mia’s eyes were full of tears, but there was no hurt in them.

If anything, there was a flicker of satisfaction, as if she had finally gotten even.

“It wasn’t me… I was already… dead…”

I murmured the words.

For some reason, even though my body could no longer feel pain, my heart still felt as if it had been cut open again and again.

It had not always been like this.

In my hazy childhood memories, Mom had never treated me this way.

Back then, she would always smile, give me a thumbs-up, and tell me I had done a great job.

Whatever I wanted, she would buy it for me.

Every day, she put so much thought into making me balanced meals, and at night, she would tell me stories until I fell asleep.

I remembered all of it.

Things only changed later, after my body started having problems.

Her attitude toward me grew worse and worse.

At first, she would still patiently talk me through what had gone wrong. Then she gradually became impatient.

In the end, that impatience turned into deeper and deeper disgust.

The truth was, I had never blamed Mom. I could even understand her.

Dad once told me that Mom had a younger brother when she was little.

But when he was ten, he died after a sudden high fever.

The doctors said his body had always been too weak, and he could not survive such a sudden, severe illness.

After that, Mom became especially focused on physical fitness.

When she was pregnant with me, she and Dad had already talked about raising us in the healthiest way possible.

She researched children’s exercise and ways to build strength, collecting thick stacks of notes and plans. She even had our fitness trackers custom-made.

“Your mom just cares about you girls too much,” Dad told me.

After hearing that, I finally understood that everything Mom did was for our own good.

I did not want to disappoint her, so even when I fell over and over again, even when my whole body was covered in injuries, I kept getting back up and trying to meet her expectations.

But no matter how hard I tried, in her eyes, I was still the lazy child.

Several teachers finally noticed what was happening and rushed over to stop Mom, who was still slapping me.

“Ms. Morgan, calm down!”

My head swung from side to side under her blows.

The wound on the back of my head, which had been pressed against the ground, lost that pressure, and more blood poured out with each movement.

One teacher frowned and tried to come check on me.

Mom stopped her at once.

“Don’t bother with her! It’s just a little scrape. If it actually hurt, she would have screamed by now. She isn’t stupid!”

I gave a bitter smile.

A long time ago, that had been true.

Back then, Mom still cared about me.

Whenever I fell or bumped into something, I would go to her so she could clean it, put ointment on it, and blow on it to make it hurt less.

But later, whenever I cried, Mom would not even look at me.

Over time, I learned to get back up quietly and stop saying it hurt.

The teacher still looked uneasy.

“She really doesn’t look well to me.”

“Just to be safe, I’m going to call the school nurse.”

Before Mom could stop her, the teacher had already made the call.