Mom, Please Love Me Even Once

My birthday and my dad Jeremy Portman's death anniversary fall on the same day.

After Jeremy's passing, my birthday ceased to hold any joy.

When the killer held a gun to my head, I was forced to call my mother, Natalie Portman.

"Natalie, today is my eighteenth birthday. Can you come celebrate with me?"

However, all I received was a torrent of hateful curses devoid of any warmth.

"You're the reason your dad's dead, and now you've got the nerve to ask me to celebrate your birthday? I wish it was you instead of him!"

Before the call abruptly ended, I heard her celebrating her adopted daughter's comingofage ceremony.

Later that night, police discovered numerous body parts in the trunk of an inspected patrol car.

Natalie was urgently summoned back to piece together the remains over two days and nights. However, she didn't realize that the person who died was actually her most hated daughter.

.....

Upon her arrival at the station in the early hours, Natalie anxiously inquired about the situation, "Where was the body found? How long has the person been dead?"

Clive Owen, noticing cake crumbs still clinging to her, said with an apology, "We just found the body; the patrol car was only returned this afternoon. The person who brought it in was knocked out and dumped in a ditch. The surveillance cameras were conveniently under maintenance, providing no leads.

"So blatantly bringing the body to the police station is a massive challenge to the authorities!"

The killer's audacity had become a thorn deeply embedded in everyone's hearts.

"Apologies for interrupting Cameron's birthday celebration."

At the mention of my name, Natalie's gaze turned cold and disdainful.

"Who celebrates a birthday for a murderer? Don't mention her in front of me!"

I stood by, my heart shattered and numb.

Since Jeremy's death, I had lost Natalie as well.

She moved to a different house and adopted a new daughter, the same age as me.

Before my body was found, Natalie was celebrating her adopted daughter's eighteenth birthday.

She refused to show me any warmth, viewing me as a criminal, yet she could celebrate with her adopted daughter on Jeremy's death anniversary, a girl unrelated by blood.

If she knew it was me, the one who disrupted her carefully planned celebration, perhaps she would hate me even more.

Yet, deep down, I still hoped Natalie would forgive me upon witnessing my death.

Clive hesitated, wanting to say something, but Natalie interrupted, demanding, "Show me the body. We need to perform the autopsy right away!"

As the city's most formidable female forensic pathologist, she and Jeremy had solved numerous major criminal cases together.

For two full days and nights, she meticulously pieced together my body, except for the missing right hand.

Natalie sighed as she examined the reconstructed corpse.

"The deceased was likely just of legal age, malnourished with small bones, multiple fractures throughout the body, all fatal wounds. Cigarette butts stuffed in every joint of the bones... The missing right hand may hold clues to the killer."

Clive couldn't contain his anger, cursing, "Damn animals! Is this what humanity has come to?"

Natalie, wearyeyed, added, "The victim was conscious during these torturous acts, some wounds clearly selfinflicted out of unbearable pain."

The police present were all shocked by the inhumane brutality of the revenge tactics.

A bitter taste lingered in my heart.

Natalie was truly formidable.

For eight long hours, I could feel every injury on my body distinctly.

As I watched the killer distract the authorities by placing burning cigarette butts in my exposed joints, then using a blunt object to simulate misleading blunt force trauma, my heartbeat finally ceased.

She then promptly dragged me into a vat filled with sulfuric acid.

My skin and bones corroded, emitting thick white smoke.

I thought, "Mom, it hurts so much..."

Yet, in the next moment, Natalie's hand gently touched my neck.

I held my breath, thinking, "Has she discovered that?"

There was a necklace Jeremy gave me before his death. I had never taken it off.

"It seems there's an abrasion here; the deceased was likely strangled with a thin rope," she stated.

As I recalled, a bitter smile formed on my face.

The necklace had been torn off long ago. Now, apart from the marks of the blade and the corrosive effects of sulfuric acid, there was nothing else on my neck.

The officers present furrowed their brows tightly.

This should be the second gruesome case in a decade.

The previous psychotic killer had been publicly shot down a decade ago, yet the public outrage took a full year to subside.

I still remember the panic that the killer caused.

He had taken the lives of over a hundred children in a spree. At that time, for my safety, Jeremy was out on a case, so Natalie took leave to stay with me at home.

That was my last warm memory of Natalie.

Natalie picked up the cigarette butt and handed it to Clive, saying seriously, "Check if there's any DNA residue on it. It's hard to tell if bodily fluids might have washed it away, but it's our only lead."

She turned to look the other way.

"Also, see if anyone has reported a missing girl recently. If a girl matching the victim's description has been reported missing, we need to pay extra attention.

"The victim's blood samples have been sent for analysis, but the results will likely take at least three days to come back."

Suddenly, Natalie's phone rang.

"Natalie, why hasn't Cameron replied to the birthday message I sent her? Is Cameron with you?"

It was my aunt, Anne Portman.

Since Jeremy's death, she had been the only one who cared about me.

She would wish me a happy birthday every year.

Natalie's expression darkened when she heard my name.

"Don't mention her to me. How could I let her stay with me?

"She's probably too ashamed to reply to your wishes. If it weren't for her, how could your brother have died? And you still sent her a birthday wish?"

Anne had been secretly sending me money over the years. Without her, I might not have lived to see eighteen.

But in reality, I stored the money she sent on another card. I never wanted to live off someone else's pity.

Anne hesitated to say further, "Come one, after all, turning eighteen is a big deal. She's an adult now and can take care of herself. But I suddenly can't contact Cameron anymore. Cameron is my brother's flesh and blood..."

Before she could finish, Natalie impatiently cut her off.

"Enough about her. Who knows where she's off gallivanting? It's none of my concern. I only have a daughter! It's Julia!"

Julia Portman, the name Natalie gave her adopted daughter when Julia was adopted.

She said I didn't deserve to have that surname.

On the day Jeremy died, she dragged me to change my surname.

If I had been old enough and if she had acknowledged being my guardian, I probably wouldn't have been able to keep the Portman surname.

Anne sighed helplessly.

She still wanted to inquire about my whereabouts, but Natalie ruthlessly shut down the conversation.

"Don't ask me about her. I don't know that heartless person. How dare she live to eighteen!"

With that, she hung up coldly.

Clive, who had been listening nearby, sighed heavily, saying, "It's been ten years since Jeremy passed. Cameron is innocent. You left her out in the cold for ten years; she's suffered enough."

Tears welled up in Natalie's eyes.

"Ten years! But I still vividly remember Jeremy's final moments. I can't forget, unless she dies in front of me. Otherwise, I'll always feel hatred towards her."

Each of Natalie's words pierced my heart, leaving me cold all over.

I had started by crying about my innocence in front of her.

Eventually, I accepted that I had caused Jeremy's death, just hoping for a glance of love from her.

But it never came.

I thought, "Mom, you've finally got your wish. There will never be me in this world again."

As the officers in the office dispersed to investigate further, Natalie had just finished her coffee when her phone rang again.

"Hello, I'm Cameron's teacher. She hasn't been to school for two days. Is everything okay at home?"

Natalie's relaxed expression turned into a frown once more.

"Didn't I say? Don't ask me about her. I'm not her mother! Don't bother me; her being dead outside has nothing to do with me!"

After two days without rest, Natalie's temper flared as she shouted at the teacher.

The teacher could only apologize before hanging up.

"Clive, who had been going through case files, stopped at Natalie's outburst.

The tension in the room was palpable."

He looked up, his eyes tired and bloodshot.

"Cameron hasn't been to school for two days? She's not a troublesome child. Could something be wrong?"

Natalie's voice turned cold. "I don't want to hear about her anymore, Clive. Please don't mention her again. Every time I hear her name, I see Jeremy's death in front of me."

Clive wanted to say something but eventually remained silent.

Outside, the sound of a woman's distressed voice suddenly echoed.

"My child is missing. Please, can you help me find her? She's about to start college, and I haven't heard from her all day. My child is considerate; she wouldn't just disappear like this. Something must have happened to her!"

The urgent plea reverberated through the entire office. Natalie and Clive exchanged a glance, then rushed out.

"Hello, when did you last see your child? Does she have any distinctive features?" Natalie inquired as they approached the woman.

I floated gently beside them, observing the woman's face, which was etched with worry and anxiety.

The bitterness in my heart nearly overwhelmed my senses.

I thought, "So, this is what maternal love feels like."

After a moment of contemplation, the woman choked out her response.

"My daughter is 5.2 feet tall, very beautiful, excels in her studies, and is wellbehaved. She never causes me any worry. She always keeps me informed of her whereabouts. She mentioned going on a trip with her classmates to relax after finishing her exams, but then I couldn't reach her anymore!"

As she spoke, her voice grew softer, and she broke down completely.

Clive's eyes widened as he turned to Natalie.

I, too, stood at 5.2 feet tall, the exact height of the woman's daughter.

After a pause, Clive said, "We've just found the body of a young girl..."

When she heard this, the woman's mouth hung open, but no sound came out.

Her entire body went limp, drained of all strength.

Assisted by the nearby officers, she was helped to her feet, her face drained of color.

"Can I... can I see her?"

She could barely stand, almost collapsing as the two officers led her to the morgue door.

Just as they were about to open the door, her phone rang.