My Mom Denied Money, I Lost Medicine

My mom divorced my dad after he cheated on her.

Ever since, she’s struggled with crippling anxiety and needed to monitor my every move.

When I started college, I had to check in with her three times daily just to receive my allowance.

Then one morning, I overslept and missed a check-in. I’d come down with severe pneumonia from the flu.

Mom flipped out and cut off my allowance for the entire day.

Without money for medication, my pneumonia worsened and developed into sepsis.

Barely making it to the hospital, I called Mom begging for a month’s allowance in advance to pay for medicine.

But she shut me down immediately:

“Lily! You’re just like your lying, cheating father—nothing but a manipulator!”

“You planning to blow this cash on some shady stuff with him, huh? No way in hell!”

Her enraged yelling echoed through the phone—loud enough for the billing clerk to overhear every word.

“Ma’am, you have acute sepsis. It’s life-threatening. Maybe you should try explaining the situation to your family again?”

I glanced at the long line behind me, forced a weak smile, and stepped aside.

“I’ll try calling again.”

I huddled in a corner, burning with fever. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of glass.

My hands trembled as I typed a message:

“Mom, I’m so sorry. I won’t mess up again. Please just help me this once.”

I hit send. Message Not Delivered.

Desperate, I opened Snapchat and messaged my stepdad David, hoping he could spot me some emergency funds.

That’s when I saw his post from a minute ago.

In the photo, he, Mom, and my half-sister Mia were all grinning with their cheeks pressed together.

“December 8th—taking my wife and kids out for French dinner!”

Mom hadn’t smiled like that around me since the divorce.

Whenever she looked at me—saw Dad’s face staring back at her—all I saw was hatred and resentment.

After she remarried and Mia was born, that smile came back.

David and Mia were both genuinely kind, always greeting me warmly.

But I always felt like an outsider—a ghost haunting the edges of their perfect little family.

Too scared to get close, too scared to rock the boat.

I just lingered like a shadow, quietly watching the fragile happiness Mom had finally found.

Those three daily check-ins were all that kept us connected.

My roommate called me nuts for letting my family treat me like a prisoner, but it was a twisted kind of comfort.

It was the only tie I had left to Mom.

Every check-in, I ached to share my day—all the little wins and worries.

But I was terrified of annoying her, so my messages got shorter and shorter—never more than a sentence.

She never replied, just sent cold, impersonal allowance transfers.

For years, I held onto those transfers like lifelines, convincing myself Mom still cared.

The pain in my body intensified. Finally, I worked up the nerve to text David:

“David, I’m really sick. Could you loan me some emergency cash? I’ll pay you back, promise.”

The second I hit send, my phone rang.

I answered, but Mom’s enraged voice exploded through the speaker.

“Lily, you ungrateful brat! You think you can hit up your stepdad for money? Can’t stand seeing me happy, huh?”

“How could you even be my daughter? You’re probably his and that whore’s kid!”

I couldn’t say a word.

I knew Mom was reliving the day she found out about Dad’s affair.

His mistress got pregnant. Dad, panicking, tried to pressure her into an abortion and cut things off—but she refused. She showed up at our house, flaunting her pregnancy, and told Mom she’d terminate for $50,000. Otherwise, she’d latch onto our family forever with that baby.

Back then, Mom was secretly pregnant with my little brother, though no one knew it yet.

Not until she flew into a rage, started bleeding, and ended up in the ER. That’s when we learned she’d miscarried.

The divorce was inevitable after that.

I waited terrified for her decision, scared she’d abandon me too.

Thankfully, she took me with her.

She jabbed her finger at my temple, voice dripping with loathing:

“From now on, you’re Lily Green—my name. You’ll have nothing to do with that father of yours!”

“You better be a perfect daughter, or I’ll disown you! Got it?”

I forced a smile and carefully took her hand.

“Got it, Mom. I’ll be good!”

“Don’t you dare bother your stepdad again. Understand?”

“Yes, Mom…”

Before I could finish, she hung up.

I slowly sank to the floor, burying my face in my knees as silent tears soaked my jeans.

My eyelids grew heavy. I closed my eyes and slipped into darkness.