My Suicide Was My Teacher-Mom’s Final Lesson Plan Novel – My mother, Barbara Carter, was my homeroom teacher. Whenever she needed to make an example of someone, I was her target. Once, I handed an eraser to a classmate. She slapped me across the face in front of everyone. My cheek stayed swollen for days. Another time, I swiped a few chips from a classmate’s bag during break. Mom hauled me to the front of the class.
She drove a needle into my lip until blood ran down my chin. Later, a girl got caught making out with her boyfriend. Mom decided it was me. She dragged me into the hallway and made me strip without saying a word. Then she walked into the dean’s office wearing that apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Henderson. I’ve clearly failed with Emily, but I’ll make sure she learns her lesson this time.” Mr. Henderson frowned. “What are you talking about? Emily wasn’t the one we caught.” Mom didn’t even blink. “It doesn’t matter.
Call it a lesson. Emily’s always messing up anyway, and one more won’t kill her.” What she didn’t know was that every time she laid hands on me, I added another mark to the running tally in my head. That made it one hundred. I didn’t hesitate. I jumped from a sixth-floor hallway window. Is this enough for you, Mom? Did my death finally prove your point? … I walked into the classroom with my midterm exam in hand. My right cheek was puffed up so badly it looked like a balloon.
Blood still clung to the corners of my mouth. Students around me whispered. “Emily got slapped again for not getting a perfect score in math. Poor thing.” Chloe Baker rolled her eyes. “Poor thing? Please. She’s got it easy because her mom’s the teacher, and she still can’t ace a test. If anyone deserves it, it’s her.” I paused, swallowing the sting behind my eyes, then walked to my seat. Minutes earlier, Mom had slapped me in the office in front of everyone, teachers and students alike.
My face had puffed up on the spot. “Ninety-eight? Where did you lose those two points? Answer me!” Her voice still rang in my ears. She’d hit me so hard my right ear buzzed, and I could barely hear out of it. But she wasn’t done. “Make another careless mistake like that, and I’ll match the set on your left cheek.” She turned to the students behind me. “The rest of you who lost points for carelessness, see what happens when you’re careless?” I didn’t look up to see their faces.
I kept my head down, nails digging into my palms hard enough to leave marks. The other students cleared out. Chloe stepped forward with a smile that was sickeningly sweet. “Ms. Carter, I didn’t mean to make that mistake. I promise it won’t happen again.” Mom’s expression softened. “You’re fine. Just don’t let it happen again, okay?” Chloe stuck her tongue out, playful as ever. I pressed my lips together. My nails dug deeper into my palms. “All right, you two.
Get going.” Mom waved us off. I turned slowly, pulled up my hood out of habit, and touched my swollen, throbbing face as gently as I could. Just before I left the office, I heard another teacher fawning over my mother. “Chloe’s obviously your favorite, Ms. Carter. You’d never lay a finger on her.” “And you really know how to raise a kid. Emily takes discipline so well. She doesn’t even make a sound.” Mom lit up. “Chloe’s smart.
She just needs to focus. As for Emily, she’s always been well-behaved. She never gives me an ounce of trouble.” What Mom didn’t know was this: people who don’t fight back are either broken or gone. Because Mom used me as an example so often, no one in class dared to be my friend. I walked back to my seat, my right palm still throbbing where my nails had bitten in. I slipped a small notebook from my sleeve. I wrote in silence: [Math: 98. Slapped. -1] Somehow, it was up to ninety-nine. Ninety-nine times Mom had used me to prove a point.
One more, and it was over. They say heroes decide between life and death in a heartbeat. But I wasn’t a hero. I was just a regular girl, scared out of my mind. I tucked the notebook back into my sleeve and pulled out my math test. Even during break, I wasn’t allowed to join the others. My classmates laughed and messed around like I wasn’t there. My swollen cheek throbbed worse. Chloe sauntered over with a mean little smile. “Ms. Carter treats me like her own daughter.
You? You’re just some orphan she took in, a punching bag.” I clenched my fists and stared at her. “Funny how girls with runaway moms love trying to steal someone else’s.” Chloe’s mother had run off with another man when she was four. The whole class knew. Chloe’s eyes went wide with fury. “You’re so dead, Emily.” I shrugged. “I’m waiting.” So she ran straight to Mom and whispered in her ear. That would earn me another beating. Which was exactly the point.