Broken by the Bully, Betrayed by My Lawyer Mother

I was beaten and crippled by the school bully. My mother, a star attorney, became the defendant’s counsel. In court, her words were a masterclass in manipulation. She secured an acquittal for the boy who nearly killed me. All because his father was the benefactor who had funded her college education. When I confronted her, she was defiant. “Everyone is equal before the law, Karl. I can’t compromise my professional ethics just because you’re the victim.” “Jay was just being impulsive. I couldn’t bear to see his life ruined.” Watching the monster who did this to me walk out of the courthouse, a free man, I laughed. I pulled the disownment papers I had already prepared from my bag and threw them in her face. “Since you’re so ethical, so dedicated to repaying your debts,” I said, “I hope you’re prepared to defend what’s left of your own life.” … My mother didn’t even look at the papers. To her, this was just another teenage tantrum. “Karl, have you made enough of a scene?” She picked up the papers, crumpled them without a glance, and tossed them into a nearby trash can. “Mr. Grant is hosting a thank-you dinner at The Grandview tonight. You’re coming with me.” “Jay will be there. It’s a perfect opportunity for him to apologize to you, and we can all put this behind us.” I stared at her in disbelief. Put it behind us? I was still in a wheelchair. The man who put me here had just walked free. And she wanted me to attend his victory party? “I’m not going.” The words were cold and final. I turned my wheelchair to leave. My mother’s voice followed, tight with anger. “Karl! Can you stop being so petty?” “The Grants aren’t well off. This dinner cost Mr. Grant half a month’s salary.” “If you don’t go, you’re disrespecting me, and you’re disrespecting him!” I didn’t look back. I wheeled myself away as fast as I could, escaping the suffocating presence of the courthouse. Outside, the bright sun made me dizzy. My father’s car was parked by the curb. He saw me and hurried over, his face a mask of nervous deference. “Karl, how did it go? Did they sentence him?” Looking at this man, a doormat his entire life, I felt a wave of helplessness. “He was acquitted. Not guilty.” My father stood there, mouth agape, speechless. “How could… your mother said it was just a formality.” “She said she’d get Jay a suspended sentence. How could he be acquitted?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Dad, your wife is a star attorney.” “If she wants someone to walk, they walk.” “Even if that person broke her own son’s leg.” My father wrung his hands, his anxiety palpable. “But… but… she must have her reasons.” “That man, Mr. Grant, he really did help her…” “Enough,” I cut him off. “Take me to the hospital. I’m not going home.” My father hesitated, glancing back at the courthouse entrance. “Well… your mother just texted. She said we should go straight to The Grandview.” “She said if we don’t, she’ll cancel my credit card.” I looked at the man before me. Fifty years old, and he lived like a dog. My mother controlled every penny. He didn’t even dare to raise his voice. “Then you can go.” I took out my phone and ordered a wheelchair-accessible rideshare. “I’ll go by myself.” “Karl! Don’t be like this…” My father reached for me, but I shook him off. “Dad, if you still consider me your son, don’t go to that dinner.” “If you go, then don’t bother visiting me ever again.” The car arrived. The driver helped me get in. Through the window, I saw my father standing on the sidewalk, torn. Finally, he sighed, turned, and got into his own car. He drove in the direction of The Grandview. I closed my eyes, and the tears finally came. This was my family. A mother with a twisted martyr complex, and a weak, spineless father. And I was the disposable sacrifice. At the hospital, as soon as I got settled, my phone started buzzing. Jay had posted a nine-photo collage on social media. In the pictures, he was holding a glass of champagne, his face flushed with victory. My mother sat at the head of the table, smiling with serene elegance. The caption read: “Thanks, Aunt Susan. Justice may be delayed, but it is never denied! Cheers!” Justice? To hell with his justice. I opened the comments. They were filled with fawning praise from Jay’s cronies. “Jay is the man!” “Susan is a legal legend!” “Where’s the cripple? Didn’t he show up to toast you?” Jay’s reply: “Probably crying at home, hahaha.” I stared at the screen, my fingers trembling. Suddenly, a new notification popped up. A money transfer from my mother. Amount: $300. Note: “Stop sulking. Buy yourself something nice to eat. I told Mr. Grant he doesn’t have to pay your medical bills. They’re having a tough time, we need to be understanding.” I stared at the words, my stomach churning. I wanted to vomit. I threw the phone against the wall. I was in the hospital for three days. My mother never visited. But Mr. Grant did, carrying a basket of bruised, rotting apples. He stood at the door in his dusty work clothes, a folksy grin on his face. “Karl, my boy. Uncle’s here to see you.” He placed the apples on the nightstand and rubbed his calloused hands together. “My Jay, he doesn’t know his own strength. A bit rough.” “I gave him a good talking to.” “And look, your mom got him off the hook. So we’re even now, right?” Even? I looked at the basket of apples, probably salvaged from a dumpster, and laughed. “My leg is worth a basket of rotten apples?” Mr. Grant’s expression flickered, but he quickly pasted the smile back on. “Now, Karl, don’t talk like that.” “When your mom went to college, I scraped that money together, penny by penny.” “You gotta have a conscience. Look how sensible your mother is.” “Besides, your family’s loaded. You’re not hurting for a little medical money, are you?” “My Jay needs to get married. He can’t be saddled with debt.” In that moment, I finally understood the meaning of “shameless.” This family was a pack of vampires. And my mother was the fool who not only offered them her neck but complained that they weren’t drinking fast enough. “Get out,” I said, pointing to the door. “Take your rotten apples and get out.” The smile finally slid off Mr. Grant’s face. “What’s with the attitude, kid?” “No wonder Jay beat you up. You’re asking for it.” He stalked out, muttering curses, and spat on the floor on his way out. I pressed the call button for the nurse and asked someone to disinfect the room. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. That afternoon, the head nurse came in with a bill. She didn’t look happy. “Karl, your account is overdue.” “If you don’t make a payment, we’ll have to stop your medication.” I was stunned. “Overdue? My mother… Susan Cole didn’t pay?” The nurse shook her head. “Ms. Cole was here yesterday. She requested a refund of the fifty-thousand-dollar deposit.” “She said… she said the other family was in financial trouble, and she was lending them the money to help out.” “She said you’d have to figure it out yourself.” CRACK. The last thread of my sanity snapped. She refunded my life-saving medical deposit… to give to the man who assaulted me? Is that something a mother does? With trembling hands, I borrowed the nurse’s phone and called her. It rang for a long time before she picked up. I could hear the clatter of mahjong tiles and my mother’s cheerful laughter in the background. “Hello? Who’s this?” “It’s me.” The line went quiet for a moment. Then, her voice, laced with annoyance. “Karl? Where’s your phone? Why are you calling from a strange number?” “Susan, did you refund my medical deposit?” I used her first name. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?” she snapped, her voice rising. “The Grants are buying a house in the city and were a little short on the down payment.” “I figured you weren’t spending much in the hospital, so I let them use it for now.” “Don’t you have your own savings? Use that.” “You can’t be so selfish. You have to help people in need.” Help people in need? She was breaking my bones to keep someone else warm. “That was my surgery money!” I roared into the phone. “The doctor said I need a second reconstructive surgery next week, or I’ll be permanently disabled!” “You gave that money to the Grants to buy a house? Are you insane?” I could hear Mr. Grant’s voice in the background. “Oh, Susan, if Karl needs it urgently, we can wait on the house…” Then my mother’s firm reply. “Don’t listen to him, Mr. Grant. He’s just being dramatic.” “Doctors always exaggerate. It’s not that serious.” “Buying a house is a big deal. Jay is about to start dating. How can he do that without a house?” “Karl, figure it out yourself. Stop bothering me.” Beep, beep, beep… She hung up. I stood there, phone in hand, frozen. The head nurse looked at me with pity. “Karl… maybe you should call your father?” My father? The man who had to ask his wife for cigarette money? I shook my head. “No, don’t worry about it.” “Please, just process my discharge papers.” “But your leg…” “I’m not getting it fixed.” If the world was this rotten, then I didn’t need to pretend to be the good son anymore. I went home one last time. While no one was there, I packed up everything that was mine. I left nothing but the disownment papers. My sneaker collection, my limited-edition figures, the gold bars I’d been saving since I was a child. I sold it all on secondhand marketplaces. Deep discounts. Cash only. With that money, I rented a small, accessible apartment in the next city over. Then I checked myself into a private orthopedic hospital. I’d missed the optimal window for treatment, but the doctor said that with enough money, there was still hope I could walk normally again. But no more intense physical activity. I used to be the captain of the school basketball team. Now, I was a cripple who couldn’t even walk without a limp. But I didn’t cry. I had run out of tears that afternoon.