Mom Finally Loved Me, But I had Forgotten Who She Was

My mother hated me, to the point that she wished I were dead.

I knew I deserved to die.

Sixteen years ago, if I hadn’t insisted on going out, my brother wouldn’t have died while trying to save me.

Eventually, both of us got what we wished for.

I got brain cancer. She had become a stranger to me as I forgot everything and went to die in blissful ignorance.

Then, she went mad.