Mom, I'm Not Your Burden

Chapter 1

Ever since I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, my family had made me the center of their universe.

No one in my family complained. They spent every last cent and wore themselves out just to take care of me.

Then one day, I overheard them talking,

"Honestly, it's like we're being punished. Cynthia is nothing but a burden."

My hand froze, hovering just inches from the door.

I wheeled myself into the living room and grabbed the fruit knife from the dining table...

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Ever since I was diagnosed with ALS, my family had made me the center of their universe.

Mom quit her nine-to-five job and stayed home, dedicating herself to taking care of me.

Dad, after finishing his regular day job, spent the entire night driving for Uber until sunrise.

My sister, Bella Hampton, gave up a promising career in the city and moved back to our hometown so she could be by my side.

Even my rebellious little brother, Luther Hampton, suddenly became mature and thoughtful. He massaged my limbs every day and threw himself into his studies as if his life depended on it.

No one in my family complained. They spent every last cent and wore themselves out just to take care of me.

Then, Luther got accepted to Harvard University. He wanted to major in medicine, but Mom and Dad shot him down immediately. "No way! You've always said you wanted to study computer science. Why the hell are you switching to medicine now?

"The best doctors in the field have given up hope. What makes you think you can do any better?

"The portal closes at midnight. Change it back right now!

"If you don't, neither your mother nor I will ever be able to rest in peace!"

Luther refused to change his mind.

Dinner ended in silence and tension.

Nobody realized that I already knew his portal credentials by heart.

That night, I quietly changed his major for him, signing him up for computer science—the subject he loved most.

I waited until midnight to make sure everything was set, then breathed a sigh of relief, ready to tell Mom and Dad.

But at the doorway, I overheard them talking with Bella. "ALS is a death sentence. Why can't he just accept it?"

"We have given up everything already. He's so young; I won't let him throw the rest of his life away for a lost cause."

"Honestly, it's like we're being punished. Cynthia is nothing but a burden."

My hand froze, hovering just inches from the door.

I wheeled myself into the living room and grabbed the fruit knife from the dining table.

I returned to my bedroom and, with a great deal of effort, managed to lock the door with my left hand. It was the only limb I could still control.

A soft, metallic click echoed in the room.

I collapsed in my wheelchair, gasping for breath.

Just locking the door had left me drenched in sweat.

Mom and Dad weren't wrong.

I really was just a burden—a lost cause who would die eventually.

The fact that I'd managed to hang on for three years, with even one hand still working, was a mercy from above.

I couldn't even imagine how much they'd sacrificed because of me.

When I was diagnosed three years ago, I didn't believe it at first.

I'd always been active, working out regularly—how could I end up with this?

But within six months, my hands started trembling, and my legs grew weak.

A year later, everything from my waist down had gone completely numb.

Two years in, my upper body started to shut down, too, and I felt more and more disconnected from the world.

I tried to end it all so many times, yet they always managed to save me.

I swallowed many sleeping pills, but Mom found me and rushed me to the hospital to have my stomach pumped.

I crawled toward the window to jump, but Luther held me back with everything he had.

Once, I tried to hang myself, but Dad came home early and stopped me, terrified out of his mind.

They all surrounded me, sobbing hysterically. "Sweetheart, please, just stay alive. There has to be a way..." Mom begged.

"Cindy, don't die. I'll take care of you for the rest of my life!" Luther said.

"Cindy, just hang on a little longer. You'll get better..." Bella cried.

They set up shifts, watching me 24 hours a day, terrified I'd try something again.

Only after I was paralyzed from the waist down, with nothing but my left hand able to twitch, did the guards finally ease up.

To them, someone who could only move one hand was hardly capable of ending it all.

The muscles in my left hand had mostly atrophied, and I could barely exert any force.

It took all my strength to pick up the fruit knife.

The blade pressed against my wrist, cold and sharp.

I forced myself to push down.

But all it left was a faint mark on my pale skin.

It didn't even break the skin.

I had no choice but to set the knife on the table.

My left hand shook as I slowly nudged the blade into the slot at the edge of the table—the one meant to prop up a tablet to keep me entertained. It was at just the right height.

I adjusted my wheelchair so my chest lined up with the knife's point.

I took a deep breath.

Then, I shifted my weight forward, driving my body down onto the blade.

A sickening sound rang out.

Pain exploded in my chest.

I bit down on the blanket, muffling my screams.

The taste of blood filled my mouth, but I swallowed it back.

Warm liquid seeped down my body, soaking through my pajamas and dripping onto the floor.

As my body heat faded away with the blood, my consciousness began to slip.

So this was what dying felt like.

It hurt. It was cold.

I wanted to call out, to beg for help, but I held back.

Mom and Dad were right. They'd given up too much for me over these years.

I really was just a burden.

If I died, Bella could go back to the city and keep chasing her dreams.

Mom wouldn't have to spend every day fussing over me, making those delicate meals that I couldn't benefit from.

Dad wouldn't have to drive for Uber all night anymore, just to pay for my next round of treatments.

Luther could finally study computer science—the thing he loved most—without any guilt.

Their lives had been on pause for far too long because of me.

Let it all end here.

Chapter 2

When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in midair.

Moonlight slipped through the cracks in the window, casting a pale glow across the bed.

I was still there.

My body slumped awkwardly, the knife jutting from my chest.

The handle had sunk in partway, surrounded by bloodstains—some dark, some brown—spreading across the sheets.

The white bedding bloomed with a grotesque, ugly flower.

I drifted out of the room.

The clock in the living room read 4:10.

Mom's bedroom door swung open. She crept out, her eyes ringed with deep shadows.

She went into the kitchen and began moving quietly.

She toasted the muffin, heated the ham, gently poached the egg, and finished it with hollandaise sauce.

The rich, buttery smell slowly filled the house.

At six o'clock, Dad emerged, rubbing his temples. He saw the kitchen light on and sighed.

Bella came out too, silently heading off to wash up.

By 6:30, Mom carried out a plate of eggs Benedict, made with extra care.

On the plate sat a warm English muffin, layered with ham and a soft egg, the sauce slowly dripping down the sides.

She walked toward my room.

"Cindy? Are you awake? I made you breakfast."

No response.

She twisted the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge.

"Why is the door locked?"

Bella came out of the bathroom, patting her face dry. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Cindy locked the door."

Bella's expression shifted. She walked over, lowering her voice. "Mom... last night, when we were talking, I think I saw Cindy."

Mom froze. "What?"

I hovered beside them, my heart tightening.

Bella saw me?

Did she see me take the knife into my room?

But Bella's next words made me relax. "When I left your room, I saw Cindy wheeling herself back to her bedroom.

"I wanted to call out to her, but she'd already closed the door."

Bella's voice grew softer and softer.

"So she must've heard what we said.

"She locked the door because she's upset and doesn't want to see us."

Guilt and worry flickered across Mom's face. Something occurred to her, and her expression darkened. "So what if she heard? I can't even speak my mind now?

"Yesterday, when Luke changed his college major for her, was she even there to say a word?

"You tell me, we've all been running ourselves ragged for her, but Luke's just turned 18.

"Are we supposed to let our whole family get dragged down with her..."

Bella's face changed, and she quickly covered Mom's mouth. "Mom... stop. Cindy's sick. She's sensitive and anxious.

"If she hears you say that, how do you think she'll feel?

"Luke changing his college application probably made her feel awful, too."

Mom pressed her lips together, motioning for Bella to let go.

She sighed, releasing the doorknob. "Alright, forget it."

She turned away, carrying the steaming eggs Benedict back to the dining table.

She slid the plate toward Bella. "Then you eat it. Don't let it go to waste."

Bella stared at the eggs Benedict, her throat tightening.

"What about Cindy?"

"I'll make her a fresh one when she wakes up."

Bella hesitated for a few seconds before setting down her plain bread.

Then, she picked up the fork and began eating in big, hungry bites.

Chapter 3

Dad and Bella finished breakfast in a rush and hurried out the door.

One dashed to catch the bus to the office, the other headed off to work.

It wasn't until nearly eight o'clock that Luther's bedroom door finally opened.

His hair was a mess, dark circles under his eyes—clearly, he hadn't slept well.

He didn't even glance at the dining table, just grabbed his backpack and made for the door.

"Luke!"

Mom called after him, "Where are you going? Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"

"Not hungry." Luther didn't even look back. "I'm meeting classmates for a part-time job."

"You—!"

Mom's voice rose, sharp with frustration. "Get back here! We're not done talking about yesterday—"

Bang. The only reply was the sound of the door slamming shut.

Mom stood there, chest heaving, then finally muttered in defeat, "Every single one of you is a handful."

She started clearing the dishes, tidying up the living room.

When everything was in order, she made another plate of eggs Benedict for me and walked to my bedroom door again.

"Cindy, still not up? It's ten o'clock, come on, open the door and eat something, okay?

"I just reheated it for you—it's best while it's hot."

Still, silence.

Her brows knit in worry, and she raised her hand to knock again.

Suddenly, her phone rang—it was the hospital calling.

As soon as she answered, her face went ghostly pale. "What? A car accident?!"

Her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped the phone. She grabbed her keys and wallet and bolted out the door.

I drifted after her.

The hospital reeked of disinfectant.

Dad was lying in a bed in the emergency observation room, an IV in his left hand, and—unbelievably—his right hand still clutching his laptop.

"What happened to you?" Mom rushed over, her voice breaking.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

Dad quickly set the computer aside and managed a weak smile. "Just felt a little dizzy this morning, didn't look before crossing the street, tripped, and scraped myself up.

"A good Samaritan brought me in. Really, it's nothing—look, I can still work."

Mom stared at his pale face and the needle in his hand, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. "You're like this, and you still won't rest? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"I did rest. I just took a nap."

Dad patted her hand. "But this project's on a tight deadline, the client's pushing. Next month, Cindy has another checkup and hospital stay—more bills coming... If I finish this project, the bonus will help."

Mom covered her face, crying quietly. "When will this ever end... I'm just so tired...

"Why does this have to happen to our family..."

"It's okay. Don't cry."

Dad tried to comfort her awkwardly. "No matter how hard things get, we'll get through it. It'll pass."

I floated beside his bed, looking at Dad's forced smile, at Mom's trembling shoulders.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I repeated it over and over in my heart.

Never again.

I won't be a burden to you anymore.

After a while, Mom wiped her tears. "Take the day off. I'll stay with you until you finish your IV, then we'll go home."

Chapter 4

At noon, the two of them ordered takeout.

When the delivery guy knocked and came in, we were all stunned.

It was Luther.

He was dressed in a red delivery uniform, sweat glistening on his forehead, holding a bag of food in his hands.

"Mom? Dad?"

The moment he saw Dad lying in the hospital bed, his face went pale. "You... What happened?"

Mom quickly spoke up. "It's nothing, just a little fall. He's fine."

Luther let out a breath and handed over the takeout.

Mom took the food, looking at his uniform. "So... this part-time job you mentioned, you're delivering food?"

Luther clenched his fists and nodded. "Today's Cindy's birthday. I wanted to save up and buy her a present."

His voice trembled. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry... I shouldn't have argued with you yesterday."

Dad sighed, waving a tired hand. "Forget it.

"If you want to study medicine... go ahead. I won't stand in your way anymore."

Mom's eyes were red as she tried to explain, "Luke, it's not that we don't want you to study medicine. We're just afraid... afraid you'll get dragged down.

"Look at this family. For Cindy, we're already stretched so thin.

"You've got such great grades—Harvard University, for God's sake. You deserve a better future. You should live for yourself!"

Luther's eyes reddened. "Mom, I'm part of this family too.

"Seeing you all so exhausted, all I can do is study harder. I can't do anything else.

"Studying medicine... At least it makes me feel like I can do something, instead of just waiting around.

"I've thought about it for a long time. It's not just a whim."

Mom looked at his stubborn face, tears streaming down again as she reached out and stroked his hair. "Silly boy... I know you're thoughtful."

I floated beside Luther, watching his tightly pressed lips and determined eyes.

I'm sorry, Luke.

Sorry you had to carry all this.

But it's all right now.

I've already changed your major back for you.

Your future won't be tied down by me anymore.

Chapter 5

After Luther finished that delivery, he hurried off for the next one.

Mom walked him out.

She watched his figure disappear down the hospital corridor, then quietly wiped away her tears.

Only after she'd finished crying did she pretend everything was fine and return to Dad's room.

By three in the afternoon, once Dad's IV was done, the two of them headed home.

Back at the house, Mom saw my plate of eggs Benedict still sitting untouched on the living room table, stone cold and congealed into a lump.

Dad sighed and gently reminded her, "Cindy takes things to heart. Last night... Don't bring it up again.

"She's got it tough."

Mom nodded. "I know. I'll talk to her tonight, gently.

"Okay, it's her birthday today. You go rest in your room—I'll head to the market and get groceries for dinner."

By seven in the evening, Luther and Bella came home one after the other.

Luther carried a box with a beautiful cream cake inside.

Bella had a shopping bag from a boutique.

"Mom, where's Cindy? I bought a cake—it's her birthday today."

Luther set the cake on the table.

Bella took out the shopping bag. "I bought Cindy a new dress. She's going to love it."

Mom poked her head out from the kitchen, forcing a smile. "She's still in her room, door's locked. Go wash up—dinner's almost ready. We'll call her in a minute."

Dinner was laid out, the table full.

There were fish, meat, all my favorite vegetables, and Luther's cake placed right in the center.

Mom took off her apron and went to my bedroom door again.

This time, her voice was soft, almost pleading. "Cindy, open up, dinner's ready.

"It's your birthday today. I made all your favorite dishes. Luke got you a cake, and Bella bought you a new dress.

"Yesterday... I was too harsh. I'm sorry. Won't you come out, please?"

Only silence answered.

The gentle look on Mom's face started to falter.

Luther came over and knocked. "Cindy, it's me, Luke.

"Come on out. We're here to celebrate your birthday."

Still no response.

Mom drew a shaky breath, her tone sharpening. "Cynthia Hampton! Are you done with this tantrum? The whole family's been bending over backwards for you—what more do you want?

"Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg you?"

Bella tried to pull Mom back. "Mom, don't..."

"I'm not letting her hide in there today!"

It was as if all of Mom's anxiety, exhaustion, and frustration from the day exploded at once. "Not coming out? Fine!"

She stepped back, then threw her body against the door with all her strength.

The old lock wasn't sturdy.

Bang! Bang!

After a few hard hits, the lock broke, and the door swung inward.

Momentum carried Mom stumbling into the room, the words already on her lips—"You're just—"

Her voice cut off instantly.

She froze in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock.





Mom, I'm Not Your Burden (Looking for the link pls)