Forgotten In The Reform School

My mother sent me to a reform school because of a single cigarette butt.

That place wasn't a school. It was a living nightmare.

I begged her countless times to let me come home.

But her eyes were only ever fixed on my younger brother and my stepfather.

I realized too late that the day she remarried, she stopped being my mother.

Now that I'm gone, why is she crying?

Didn't she throw me away a long time ago?

I'm dead. My body is tucked away in a locker in the dorm room.

My skin has turned a sickly shade of blue and black.

Fresh bruises are layered over old scars, making me look like a monster.

The girls here used to taunt me. They said, "Your mom hasn't visited in a year. You could rot here, and she'd never know."

They were wrong. It hasn't been a year. It's been a year and three months.

My entire body aches, though I can't pinpoint the source anymore.

Is it from the kick the headmaster gave me last night?

Or is it the spot where a chair slammed into the back of my head this morning?

I felt myself slipping away, both in mind and body.

I wondered if my mother would even notice my absence.

If she found out, would she feel a single spark of regret?

The nights at this school are pitch black.

After washing the last bin of laundry, I limped back to my cramped storage room.

I wrote the final entry in my diary and crawled into the locker.

Hidden inside was an old Nokia flip phone my mother had tucked into my pocket before I was sent away.

"Keep this hidden," she had whispered. "I'll call you when I miss you."

She never called. Not once.

I dialed her number, listening to the hollow ringing.

I waited for an eternity, but she never picked up.

Mom, why won't you answer me?

As my life ebbed away, I kept redialing, one call after another.

Mom... you really don't care, do you?

Maybe my death will be a relief for you.

The pain became a dull numbness.

I felt so drowsy, my throat parched and begging for a drop of water.

But I didn't have the strength to crawl out anymore.

I closed my eyes. The world went silent, and I finally got to sleep.

Then, my spirit drifted upward.

I was gone.

And Mom... you never came.

My spirit now stands at the front door of a house.

It's not my home, but it's where my mother is.

I need to know why she didn't answer those calls.

Luxury SUVs and sports cars line the driveway of the villa.

The entrance is draped in fairy lights and colorful balloons.

It looks so lively and warm.

I float through the front door. The house is packed with people.

My ten-year-old brother, Archie, stands in the center of the room.

A massive five-tier designer cake sits in front of him.

He's making a wish with his hands clasped tight.

Mom and my stepfather, Arthur Sterling, stand beside him.

Their eyes are filled with nothing but pride and love.

I feel a pang of jealousy. How long has it been since Mom looked at me like that?

The candles are blown out, and the room erupts in cheers.

Today is Archie's tenth birthday.

It is also my birthday.

I follow Mom as she bustles around the house.

We have a full-time maid, so why is she working so hard?

Is it because she cares that much?

She doesn't want a single thing to go wrong for her golden boy.

Mom has always been this way. Archie and Arthur are her entire world.

When I was nine, Mom married Arthur.

Because she was a divorcee with a daughter, Arthur's family looked down on her.

I knew I was the baggage. I was the reason people whispered about her.

I tried to disappear, acting like a little servant to help around the house.

But the more I shrunk myself, the more they despised me.

Back then, Mom still had a heart. She told me, "I married into this family, so you are a princess here. Don't act like a maid. Keep your head high."

At that time, she still saw me.

But then Archie was born.

By giving Arthur a son, Mom's status plummeted into security.

The family finally accepted her, and I became the only outsider left.

At first, she protected me. But as Archie grew, she went blind to my existence.

I would see her twice a day. Once in the morning, once after school.

In the morning: "Cassidy, hurry up and eat. You'll be late."

"Cassidy, eat more. You need to grow tall and healthy."

In the afternoon: "Cassidy, finish your homework and I'll take you to the park."

"Cassidy, it's time for your bath and bed."

I watched them live their perfect, sweet life while I existed on the sidelines.

Eventually, I realized I was just a guest in their home.

I used to be so naive. I thought maybe she ignored me because we were always together.

Maybe if I vanished for a while, she'd miss me?

In Junior High, I begged to go to boarding school. Mom agreed immediately.

I went home once a week, and she still didn't see me.

Then I went home once a month, and nothing changed.

Just like now. Even though I'm standing right in front of her, she only has eyes for Archie.

It's as if he is her only purpose, her sky, her everything.

I want to stop following her, but I'm tethered.

I don't want to watch their happy family play-acting.

I'm bitter. I'm hurt. I want to leave.

The party finally ends, and the guests trickle out.

Archie sits in the living room tearing into his gifts.

I'm forced to sit there with Mom.

She turns to the maid and asks, "My phone was buzzing earlier, but I couldn't find it. Did you see it?"

The maid goes to the kitchen and brings it over.

"Archie brought it in. He said there were too many people and didn't want it stolen."

Mom looks at Archie, then dials the number back.

The call goes to voicemail.

Of course it does. I'm a corpse in a locker.

"Cassidy called. Why isn't she picking up now? Whatever. Archie, honey, it's bedtime. You have your equestrian test tomorrow. Get some rest so you can get that A+."

That's my mother. My desperate calls weren't as important as a hobby horse lesson.

I remember when I was thirteen.

Archie was three then, the age where he was most adorable.

I was living at school, unable to sleep, filled with anxiety and tears.

I couldn't focus in class. My grades started to slip.

The teacher called my mom. She didn't ask me what was wrong. She just slapped me.

"I spend so much money on this school, and you're wasting it? Do you know your tuition is fifty thousand a semester? Arthur pays for that! I owe him for this! You need to study until you break, or you'll embarrass me!"

I kept my head down, listening to her scream. I was almost happy.

At least she was looking at me. At least she was here.

I learned what she wanted. She wanted a trophy daughter.

From that day on, I became a machine. I was first in every class.

But she never visited again.

Did I have to become a villain just to get your attention, Mom?

By the end of Junior High, my insomnia was a monster.

My grades tanked again. The teacher called for a parent, but Mom didn't show.

She just called me. "If you don't want to learn, then fine. After this semester, go live with your father. I won't have a useless daughter like you."

Panic seized me. I was terrified.

My biological father is a demon who changes whenever he drinks.

She knew what he was, and yet she wanted to throw me to him.

My heart broke that day. It was the deepest pain I'd ever felt.

I thought about ending it. I held a blade to my wrist but hesitated.

I wasn't ready to give up on life yet.

I pushed myself through the final exams and got into the best high school in the city.

That summer, Mom took me shopping for clothes. I was so happy.

She bought ten times more for Archie, but I didn't care. I finally had her time.

Then High School started. It was also Archie's first day of elementary school.

Without hesitation, she chose to take him and let me go alone.

She didn't even show up for the parent-teacher meeting after orientation. She sent the maid.

That meeting was the beginning of my descent into the abyss.

During the ten days of orientation, I somehow became famous at school.

Someone posted my photo on the school forums, calling me the new Campus Queen.

The post went viral. People from other classes would sneak over just to stare at me.

Suddenly, I was the girl everyone talked about.

But fame is a curse.

After the parent meeting, I was framed. Someone said I was dating a local gang member.

The teacher produced a petition signed by a dozen students.

They claimed the cigarette butts found in the classroom belonged to the thugs I'd sneaked in.

My explanations were weak and useless.

Nobody believed me. Not even my mother.

When the teacher called her, she immediately contacted a reform school.

It was a place that promised to fix "problem children" in a year.

My own mother hand-delivered me to that hellhole.

The school was in the middle of nowhere, deep in the countryside.

They claimed the isolation was to keep kids away from internet cafes and bad influences.

Parents weren't allowed to visit. Students couldn't leave or call home frequently.

There was one visitation day a month, conducted like a prison meeting behind glass.

But in a whole year, Mom never showed up once.

That year was the most horrific experience of my life.

I prayed every night for her to come and rescue me.

I was drowning in despair, but she never threw me a rope.

Why didn't you come?

I hover near Mom, watching her daily routine. She's obsessed with Archie.

Arthur hasn't been home for days.

Mom doesn't seem to care. She's used to his absence.

I never see her smile. she always looks like she's drowning in chores.

Are you too busy to see me for even one day out of three hundred?

Are you so busy that you can only give me two minutes on the phone once a month?

If you had given me just a little more of your time, would I still be breathing?

If you had just picked up that last phone call, would I have survived?

When I first entered that school, someone found my file and my "Campus Queen" title.

"Well, look at that. The little queen of Eastview High is here with the trash."

Because of that comment, I was forced to scrub toilets for a month.

When they realized my mother wasn't coming to check on me, the abuse escalated.

I became their personal slave. I washed, dried, and folded their clothes.

I had to hand-copy thirty-two sets of homework every single night.

The teachers saw the bruises, but they just smiled and walked away.

My meals were cut down to one a day. They told me, "Slaves only eat if they work, and you only deserve one scrap."

I fought back once. They beat me until my vision blurred and my body was a map of purple welts.

I wasn't afraid of dying, but I didn't want to die in that cage.

I just wanted to leave.

I counted the days until my year was up, believing the nightmare would end.

But why, Mom? Why didn't you come to get me?

I entered on September 10th, 2020. I survived until September 10th, 2021.

But the girls told me that some people had been there for three years.

Their parents had simply forgotten they existed.

I felt the light go out inside me.

Maybe dying here wasn't so bad after all.

November 12th, 2021. My birthday. The day I died.

Quite a coincidence, isn't it?

Archie and I share a birthday, but I haven't had a celebration since he was born.

I thought maybe she'd remember this time. She didn't.

Now my birthday is my funeral. Will she remember it now?

Mom got up at five this morning. I drifted after her from the kitchen to the den.

She didn't stop moving until Archie left for school.

She looked exhausted as she collapsed onto the sofa and drifted off.

A phone call startled her awake. I couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but her face paled.

She grabbed her purse and raced out of the house.

I followed her to General Hospital.

Is someone sick? Why is she here?

She ran through the corridors and stopped outside the operating room.

She met a young woman there. "Miss Miller, thank you so much for bringing him. I don't know what I would have done."

"It's okay, Mrs. Sterling. Archie was hurt on school grounds. We're responsible."

So Archie was the one in trouble. He was in surgery.

I waited with Mom until the doctor came out pushing a gurney.

"Are you Archie Sterling's mother?"

Mom nodded, her eyes wide with terror. "Doctor, how is he? Is it serious? Will there be permanent damage?"

The doctor pulled down his mask. "He's fine. Just a fractured right leg. It's not severe. With rest, he'll be back to normal in no time."

Mom burst into tears of relief.

She rushed to the bedside, gently touching the white cast on his leg.

"Archie, baby, does it hurt?"

Archie broke a bone, and she acted like the world was ending.

If she knew I was cold in a body bag, would she feel even half of that pain?

For the next few days, Mom practically lived at the hospital.

She stayed by his side for five days straight.

Arthur never showed up once.

When they finally went home, Mom tried to make it up to Archie.

She bought three massive Lego sets and set them in the living room.

"Honey, since you can't move much, I've hired private tutors. You can build your Legos when you're bored, okay?"

Archie nodded silently. He's a quiet kid, but I know the darkness in him.

How bad is he?

When he was three, I watched him squeeze a pet hamster to death with his bare hands.

The next day, he told Mom I had accidentally stepped on it.

He's always been territorial. He doesn't want anyone taking what's his.

He once told me that Mom could only have one childDhim.

Whenever I came home, he'd fake an illness so Mom would think I was a curse on him.

I bet this leg injury has something to do with the conversation Mom had with the maid.

With New Year's approaching, the maid had asked, "Is the young lady coming home soon?"

Mom checked her calendar and gasped. "Oh, right! Cassidy's year is up. Why isn't she back?"

She tried to call me a dozen times, but nothing went through.

Panic finally set in. She called my headmaster.

The man lied through his teeth. "Cassidy? She left a few days ago. Said she was going to live with her father."

Mom hung up, looking relieved.

She probably thought I'd finally gone to my dad, which meant she was off the hook.

Archie had been listening from the stairs.

I saw his reflection in the glass.

He didn't hear the teacher's lie. He only heard that Mom wanted to bring me back.

So, he broke his own leg to make sure she stayed focused on him.

He stole every second of her time, and Mom let him.

She thinks of me in brief flashes, then I'm erased by his demands.

My room on the second floor is still there, kept clean by the maid.

At night, I float there and lie on the empty bed.

It's almost enough. At least I'm near her.

It doesn't matter that she can't see me. She never did anyway.

It's been a month since I died, and Mom still hasn't found out.

I wonder what they did with my body.

Archie's leg is healing, and he's hobbling around on crutches.

The living room is a minefield of Lego bricks.

"Mom, I want to move my Legos to Cassidy's room. There's more space there."

His room is a master suite with a balcony. Mine was just a small guest room.

Mom agreed. My bed was hauled away and tossed into the basement like junk.

My desk was replaced with shelves for his Lego models.

A plush rug was laid down so he could sit and play comfortably.

Now that my room is gone, I wander the halls like a stray dog.

I overheard the maid talking to the chauffeur in the kitchen.

"The boss hasn't been back in ages. I heard his mistress is pregnant and almost due."

"Seriously? And the mistress of the house hasn't said a word?"

"What can she say? She's known forever. She even had to deliver clothes to the woman once after the boss ripped hers off."

"She's too patient. I couldn't stand a husband cheating so openly."

"She doesn't have a choice! Look at her background. The Sterlings never liked her. Arthur only married her because she was a pretty young thing, even with the kid."

"Don't say that. Cassidy is a good girl. I wonder where she is. She's been gone so long."

"Being good doesn't matter. She's not a Sterling, so she's nothing. Look at the motherDworking like a slave all day and her husband still stays out."

"In this house, you're either a Sterling or you're useful. If she hadn't popped out a son, she'd be on the street."

I leaned against the kitchen island, taking in the gossip.

So Arthur has a side piece.

And Mom knows.

Her life isn't as perfect as she tries to make it look.

On New Year's Day, my biological father, Robert, called Mom.

"Hey, let Cassidy come over for dinner. My parents want to see her."

Mom froze. "Cassidy? Isn't she with you? She never showed up?"

The realization finally hit her like a freight train.

I followed her to the police station. Her hands shook as she filled out the forms.

Her handwriting was a jagged mess. She was terrified.

What are you afraid of, Mom?

The officer asked for a recent photo of me. Mom scrolled through her phone.

It was nothing but pictures of Archie and his school achievements.

The officer's brow furrowed as he watched her scroll.

"How long has she been missing?"

Mom stopped. She had to think about it.

How long since she last saw me?

The realization of her own neglect made her knees buckle. She collapsed onto the floor.

The officer rushed to help her up.

Her voice was a trembling whisper. "A long time. The last time she called was November 12th."

The officer checked the file. "On her birthday? You weren't with her?"

Mom stared blankly at the floor.

Right. November 12th was my birthday.

How could she have forgotten so completely?

She started to cry. I reached out to wipe her tears, but my hand passed through air.

The officer handed her some tissues.

"This school you mentioned... what's the address?"

Address?

Mom fumbled with her phone again. Deep in her photo archive, she found the contract.

She touched my face on the screen and looked at the officer with desperation.

"Please, you have to find her. She's a good girl. She gets straight A's. She's so obedient. Just find her."

The officer looked at the documents and frowned.

"How did you hear about this school?"

She thought for a long time. "My son. My son found it online. He said it was a place for troubled kids. He said she'd come back normal and happy."

The officer stared at her. "Normal? What was wrong with your daughter?"

Mom went silent. She was trying to remember what was "wrong" with me.

"If the year was up, why didn't you pick her up?"

Silence again.

Finally, she whispered, "I thought she was safe there. I wanted to go, but I was so busy. There was so much to do at home. I couldn't find the time."

The officer slammed the file onto the table.

"No time? What do you do that's so important? Too busy to pick up your child, but you had plenty of time to dump her there?"

Mom had no answer.

My father, Robert, burst into the station. I hadn't seen him in forever.

He looked haggard as he leaned over the counter, demanding answers.

The officer told him about the school. "That place has been reported dozens of times. It was shut down in the city for abusing kids, so they moved to the sticks. It was all over the news. Didn't you people check?"

Mom's eyes widened. She couldn't believe it.

10

Her face was a mask of horror. I think she's finally remembering.

She's remembering my monthly calls for help.

I told her the truth every single time. I told her what they did to me.

But did she ever actually listen?

She'd just give me a few "uh-huhs" and tell me to be a good girl before hanging up.

Is she regretting it now?

Regretting that she didn't listen? Regretting that she didn't care?

Robert walked over andDcrack!Dhe slapped her across the face.

The police had to pull them apart.

"We need to work together to find her," the officer shouted. "List the places she frequented. Who are her best friends?"

Two simple questions, and my parents were stumped.

They didn't know me at all. They never bothered to learn.

The officer saw their blank stares and gave up.

The investigation moved fast. Their first stop was the "Devil's Den."

Mom insisted on going along. As we approached the school, I felt a wave of cold terror.

The place was a ghost town. Everyone had vanished.

Every trace of my existence had been scrubbed clean.

The police searched the dorms but found nothing.

Until they walked into the storage room.

The walls were covered in vile, hateful graffiti.

My bed was a thin sheet over a wooden board.

The only blanket was the light summer throw Mom had sent me with.

There was no heat in the winter, and no AC in the summer.

Mom watched the scene, her tears flowing freely.

She couldn't grasp how I had survived a year in such a hole.

An officer opened the locker. It had been cleaned, but the scent of death is hard to hide from a professional.

They called in the forensics team. They found a tiny speck of blood in a corner.

Mom refused to believe I was gone. She kept begging them to look elsewhere.

"She's not here! Go look somewhere else! Why are you wasting time here?"

An officer pulled a Nokia flip phone from the pocket of a discarded jacket.

It was caked in dried blood. They sealed it in an evidence bag.

Mom shook her head violently. "No, that could be anything. Maybe a nosebleed. She gets nosebleeds in the winter."

They kept searching and found my diary hidden under a floorboard.

It was a record of every horror I had endured.

The female officer who found it couldn't even finish the first few pages.

She wiped her eyes and tucked it away.

Mom reached for it, but the officer pulled it back.

I could feel Mom's soul beginning to shatter.

She realized she had loved me, she just... forgot to show it.

The police called for reinforcements. A dozen men combed the grounds.

But I was still missing.

I was curious, too. Where did they put me?