Moon-Cursed Princess by Mark Twain 6
Chapter 6
I watched the perfect couple before me with bitter self-mockery.
Corinne’s makeup was flawless. Even though she was just the
illegitimate daughter, after her true identity was revealed, Francine still raised her in luxury.
Meanwhile, I, her biological daughter, never received a shred of her maternal love.
Her people had found me long ago. They reported to her that my adoptive mother had psychotic tendencies and would beat and curse me at will.
Those informants didn’t give her the details.
That woman had built a metal cage specifically for me. Until I was ten, she raised me like livestock.
By the time Suzan bought me out of that cage for 15 dollars, I didn’t even know how to speak.
It was this old lady, Suzan, who kept me alive and raised me with her colorful small change saved from selling scraps and begging for money door-to-door.
Later, she sent me to school to get an education.
Francine didn’t know. While she was still agonizing over whether taking me back would affect Corinne’s college entrance exams, Suzan was using her handful of coins to pay for my school meals, while she couldn’t even bear to buy a piece of bread for herself.
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When Corinne spent tens of thousands on art exam tutoring, I had long decided to study medicine. Not out of great passion, just because the scholarships for med school were higher than for other majors.
But fate, it seemed, always set me to “Hard Mode”.
Soon after I started university, Suzan showed signs of Alzheimer’s. I juggled part-time jobs while caring for her.
But her illness came and went. When she didn’t recognize people, she’d mistake me for my adoptive mother, pick up a mop, and hit me, yelling, “Even if Jorie isn’t your real daughter, you can’t treat her like this! She’s a human being!”
I often went to class with bruises, but I never felt ashamed.
Later, I saved Bryant. During the days he stayed at my place, Suzan had many clear moments. I thought that there must have been affection in his eyes when he looked at me.
Otherwise, Suzan wouldn’t have kept murmuring until her last breath, “Jorie, when will you marry Bryant?”
Bryant and I got married.
But Suzan, who could always read people so well, failed to tell that he never loved me.
“Please come home! I’m begging you, Mom!”
A sudden commotion erupted in the crowd.
An elderly woman with Alzheimer’s had soiled herself right there in public.
Bryant turned toward the sound. Corinne, beside him, covered her
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mouth and nose. “How disgusting!”
Her disgust was impossible to hide. She even fanned her hand at a smell that didn’t exist.
But Bryant left her and walked toward the center of the commotion.
I was puzzled, wondering what Bryant was doing.
He didn’t seem to feel disgusted at all. Instead, he helped the old woman up, asking softly, “Ms. Morrison?”
The old woman looked at him blankly, then picked up a soiled tissue from the ground and threw it at him.
Seeing this, the old woman’s family was horrified, apologizing profusely, “I’m so sorry. She’s not in her right mind.”
As if remembering something, Bryant didn’t even bother wiping off the filth. He pushed through the crowd and headed straight for the underground parking lot.
I’d never seen him so frantic, so out of sorts. He didn’t even acknowledge Corinne calling after him.
I thought he was rushing home. But I never expected he would drive to the old place I used to share with Suzan.
A bitter smile touched my lips.
Bryant, you really were a slow learner.
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