But not because I was strong. Because my mother, once she saw the truth, became a force fiercer than any bully could imagine. And that is the real story here.
He tried to laugh. “Mrs. Introv, that’s clearly edited—”
“See, Mrs. Introv? I told you. He’s just sensitive .”
Because you believe my tormentor over me, I screamed internally.
She hugged him. She hugged him while I watched from the stairs. The night it all shattered was my 17th birthday. Yuna had planned a small dinner—just the two of us, her famous katsu curry, a tiny cake. I arrived home to find Kael already seated at the head of the table. My seat.
But I couldn’t say that. Because Kael had already told her his version: that I was the bully. That I was jealous of his popularity. That my “emotional outbursts” were the real problem. Kael’s strategy was textbook gaslighting, but applied to a mother-son relationship. It unfolded in three phases.
He failed.
“It’s hard to trust anyone, Mrs. Introv. Even people who claim to love you.”