Thrown in the Oven, Burned by Regret

I loved eating cakes.

My dad would bring me one every day after work, and my mom bought a full set of oven and baking tools, patiently learning how to bake them for me.

I once thought I was the happiest little princess in the world until the day my parents divorced. The person who came to pick up my dad turned out to be the bakery owner.

My mom turned to me, growling, "This is all your fault! If you hadn't asked for cakes every day, your dad never would've cheated!"

She stretched out her hands, covered in burn scars, and screamed hysterically, "I slaved away making cakes for you, and these hands have never healed since. What did you do? You both think the stuff from outside is so much better!"

She grabbed a baking sheet and smacked me hard with it. I bit my lip, not daring to make a sound.

That night, she brought home a little girl. Ignoring the pain all over my body, I begged for her forgiveness. "Mom, I'm sorry. Please don't throw me away. I swear I'll never eat another cake!"

She slapped me across the face, but that wasn't enough to quench her anger. She tossed me into the big oven. "I'm not your mom! You love cakes so much? Stay in there and reflect on what you've done! You and your worthless dad both deserve to die!"

After she slammed the door and stormed out, the little girl skipped over to the oven, grinning smugly as she hit the switch. "From now on, your mom is gonna be mine!"

The oven kicked on, and the temperature began to rise. I smiled bitterly.

At least this way, my mom could finally be happy.

Chapter 1

...

Inside the oven, heat surged in from every direction. Everything was scorching hot.

I pounded desperately on the glass door in front of me, my hands turning red from the effort. "Mom, I was wrong! Save me! It's so hot! Let me out!"

As I cried, I accidentally bumped into the metal wall, yanking my hand back in pain.

Cecily Phelps leaned in close to the oven, looking all smug. "You used to brag at school every day about your awesome mom. Now what? She doesn't want you anymore. From now on, she'll only buy dresses for me, and she'll only love me. She is my mom now."

I cried so hard that my throat went raw. Sweat and tears dripped onto the oven floor and sizzled away instantly.

Cecily laughed at my misery, then ran out of the kitchen. I heard her talking to my mom, Carrie Compton, outside.

"Ava is saying bad stuff about you in there!" she lied. "She says if you don't let her out, she's gonna go find the bakery lady to be her mom."

I never said that, praying that Carrie would not believe her.

But the next second, Carrie's angry voice rang out. "Let her stay in there as long as she wants. She's so spoiled. That's why she's got such a bad temper. Come on, Cecily. Let's go buy you some new clothes."

The front door slammed shut. All that was left was the humming of the oven.

It was so hot everywhere. My hands and feet ached from the heat. The golden bracelet on my wrist that my parents had given me started to burn.

Carrie had told me that as long as I wore it, I'd always be safe. But it was too hot; I wanted to take it off.

I stopped myself, believing that my parents had split up because of me. If I took it off, Carrie would be even more upset.

I curled up into a ball, my head spinning. "Mom, why haven't you come to save me yet? Do you really not want me anymore? I miss you so much."

I writhed in agony, slowly losing consciousness. "Mom, I'll be more obedient."

...

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself floating lightly in the living room.

In the kitchen, that big oven had stopped running. Some dirty handprints were left on the door.

I tiptoed over and peeked inside. There was a small, black, curled-up thing in there. That was me.

Cecily's excited voice came from the bedroom. "Mom, is this pretty room gonna be mine from now on? And all those dresses in the closet... can I wear them?"

Carrie glanced subconsciously at the kitchen, her brows furrowing slightly. But it was only for a moment before she turned back, giving Cecily the same gentle smile she used to give me. "Of course, sweetie. From now on, everything in this house is yours. Just tell me what you want."

Cecily's face lit up with a winner's grin, but she quickly switched to a worried look. "What about Ava? Won't she get mad?"

Carrie's smile froze, replaced by disgust in an instant. She snorted, "What right does she have to get mad? She's been in there forever and is still throwing a tantrum. Cecily, are you hungry? I've got some delicious stuff for you."

She pulled Cecily over to the table, chatting and laughing. From start to finish, nobody bothered to go into the kitchen and open that oven for a look.

The table was loaded with steaming bread and all sorts of fancy pastries. But my eyes were drawn straight to a strawberry cake in the corner.

Strawberry cake was my favorite. Carrie used to buy them for me all the time.

A tiny spark of hope flickered in me. If the cake was for me, it might mean she wasn't mad anymore.

Cecily took a bite of the bread, then spotted the cake on the table.

Chapter 2

...

Cecily shook Carrie's arm, whining, "Mom, I want that strawberry cake."

Carrie froze, her tone stiff and laced with some kind of inner struggle. "This cake is..."

She choked off, feeling a lump in her throat. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she forced a tired smile. "Sure, sweetie. I'll open the box for you."

Cecily let out a triumphant cheer. Floating in the air, I felt a sharp, sour pain stab through my heart, which had long stopped beating.

The agony was even worse than the flames burning me in the oven. Carrie used to say it was my greed that brought in that homewrecker, but now she had bought a cake for Cecily.

The girl munched on the cake happily, then noticed Carrie's gaze fixed on the kitchen door. She blinked innocently, saying, "Should we get Ava to come and eat? She must be starving."

Those words popped Carrie's forced calm like a needle. She snapped her gaze away, her voice turning sharp. "Don't worry about her. If she's hungry, she'll come out on her own. She isn't a baby anymore."

In a fit of frustration, she turned to the kitchen and shouted, "Stop playing dead in there! Just like your scumbag dad, always putting on an act! If you're so tough, stay in there forever! Don't expect me to beg you to come out! You and your dad should drop dead!"

She didn't know I was already dead.

Carrie had a mental breakdown, shaking hard after her outburst. She lost her balance and fell backward, hitting the floor and passing out.

I rushed over in terror, trying to catch her, but my hands went right through her body. I could only watch helplessly as she lay there unconscious.

I was such a bad kid. I made her suffer when I was alive, and even in death, I was making her sad.

Carrie's collapse startled Cecily. She froze for a moment, then frantically grabbed the phone and dialed 911. The paramedics arrived quickly and loaded the unconscious Carrie onto a stretcher.

The house went quiet, and my gaze drifted back to the table. Half of that sliced cake was still sitting there on the plate. The bright, sweet strawberries now looked like congealed drops of blood.

I couldn't help but retch. I'd never eat a cake again. "Mom, I'm sorry."

...

My grandma, Marta Compton, heard about Carrie fainting and rushed over to take care of her.

Back home, Carrie passed by the kitchen door countless times but never pushed it open. She wouldn't let anyone else near it either.

Feeling sorry about her paranoid state, Marta advised, "Let the kid out. You can't blame Ava for Stefan's infidelity."

She gently rubbed Carrie's back and said softly, "Ava is still a child. You can't keep her locked up like that."

Carrie stood there rigid as a rock, staring at the kitchen door, her lips pressed tight. I knew she was still mad at me, but I was already dead.

She hated me so much that she wouldn't open the oven door and admit she was wrong.

When Carrie didn't budge, Marta sighed deeply. She reached out and grabbed the kitchen doorknob, speaking softly. "Ava, my sweet girl. Don't be afraid. Come out."

But all that answered her was dead silence.

She frowned and turned the knob. The door cracked open, and a horrible smell burst out from the gap. That was the stench of me being baked at high heat for so long and then rotting in that sealed space.

Marta's expression shifted.

Chapter 3

...

Carrie charged over, her face twisted in annoyance that Marta had opened the door without permission.

"Mom, stay out of it! I'd like to see how long she can..." Carrie's voice stopped abruptly as she smelled it too.

Her eyes locked onto that big oven. A murky, sticky yellow liquid was seeping out from the door seam. That was my rotting body fluids.

I thought she would be scared, shocked, and realize what had happened. But she wasn't.

After a brief stun, her face twisted with raging anger. She pointed at the stain, her body shaking with fury. "Ava Compton! I told you to reflect on your mistakes, and you peed in there to gross me out? How can you be so low?"

"No, it's not like that." I spun around her in desperation, trying uselessly to explain. "I didn't mean to gross you out. I just died."

I wanted to tell her the truth, but she couldn't hear me at all. Looking at her distorted face, I was overwhelmed by grief and despair.

Even my death looked filthy in her eyes.

Carrie turned and stormed off. Marta glanced at the oven and sighed, "Ava, you went too far! How could you upset your mom like that? Come out and apologize to her, and we'll put this behind us."

Seeing no movement from the little figure in the oven, she sighed again and closed the kitchen door.

I stood there, endless grievance soaking my soul like ice water. I'd said sorry so many times already, but Carrie couldn't hear me.

I floated out of the kitchen and saw Carrie charge straight into the bedroom. She opened a locked drawerthe one she said held her most precious things.

She yanked it open, and inside were all the gifts I'd given her for Mother's Day and her birthdays every year. There was a "I Love Mom" card I'd carefully glued with flower petals and a crayon family portrait, where the three stick figures were smiling all crooked but super happy.

And the colorful braided bracelet I'd spent forever weaving... I never thought she had kept them all so carefully.

But now, like she was possessed, she roughly tore the cards and drawings to shreds. Colorful scraps fluttered everywhere on the floor.

I cried, bending down to pick them up and piece them back. "Mom, don't tear them! I made them with all my heart. I'm dead now, and I can't make you any more gifts."

Her face hardened as she grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped the braided bracelet without hesitation. The colorful threads snapped apart, like the bond between us.

I slumped to the floor, listening to her hysterical curses. "She is just like her heartless dad! Neither of them deserves my care. I only locked her in for one night, and she's throwing a fit to spite me. Does she think I'll take her out to play? She can go die for all I care!"

I gently pressed my head against her hand, pretending she was petting my head. "But Mom, I'm already dead. If you knew, you'd be happy, right?"

Carrie stared at the mess on the floor, then her eyes caught the class photo in the corner. I was in a princess dress, standing among the kids. My face beamed with the happiness of being surrounded by love.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed.

In the parents' group chat, the teacher sent a notice: [Next week is Ava Compton's birthday. Her parents can prepare a cake for her to share with the class.]

The message had just gone out, and the chat blew up.

[Ava shared her strawberry cake with my daughter, who had a fall. Such a thoughtful kid.]

[Let's do strawberry cakes again. The kids all love them.]

The words "strawberry cake" stung Carrie. She let out a cold laugh, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

[Everyone, this is Ava's mother. I'm sorry to say that her dad and I are divorced. It's all Ava's fault. For a stupid cake, she pushed her dad to another woman.]

I spun around in a panic. "I didn't. That's not what happened!"

To vent her anger, Carrie kept typing: [She'd throw away her dad just for something to eat. I can't raise a kid like that anymore.]

The group exploded. The parents who'd just been praising me flipped in an instant.

[Throwing away her dad for a cake? That's horrible!]

[So selfish at such a young age. What will she be like when she's older?]

The accusations against me pricked my heart and soul like needles. The dense pain was unbearable.

"That's not true. I didn't trade my dad for cakes," I cried.

Carrie set down her phone and turned gently to hug Cecily. "Cecily, don't worry. From now on, I'll only love you."

I looked at the happy girl in Carrie's arms, my heart shattering into pieces. "Mom, do you really not want me anymore?"

Cecily paused, her panic shifting to a sweet smile. She had been terrified when Carrie rushed to the kitchen earlier, afraid the latter would find my body.

She snuggled in, rubbing contentedly. "Mom, I love you, too."

I hugged myself in grief, imagining I was the one in Carrie's arms. She loved me, and I loved her.

Just then, the doorbell rang urgently.

Chapter 4

...

Carrie opened the door to see two police officers and my dad, Stefan Obrien, whom she hadn't seen in a while.

Stefan rushed up to her, demanding, "What were you saying in the parents' group? And the preschool says Ava hasn't shown up for days. What did you do to her?"

The sight of him reignited all her old and new grudges. She barked, "You have the nerve to call the police? You two heartless scumbags teaming up to humiliate me, huh?"

The lead officer cut her off, his expression serious. "Ms. Compton, we need to ask about your daughter's disappearance. When was the last time you saw her?"

Carrie stormed inside, yelling toward the kitchen, "Ava, are you done throwing your fit? Get out here now! Let your dad and everyone see what a joke I've become. Happy now?"

"Mom, I'm not hiding," I muttered desperately.

The officers exchanged looks and started searching the house. They checked every corner but found nothing. Finally, only the kitchen was left.

Carrie crossed her arms, her tone dripping with disgust. "I told you she's hiding in the kitchen. If she's got the guts, she can stay there forever."

A female officer was about to step into the kitchen when Cecily timidly tugged at her sleeve. "Ava might've gone to a friend's house to play. My mom has been so upset these days. Could you not stimulate her further?"

She subtly shifted to block the path, but the officer was insistent. "Little one, please step aside."

She moved Cecily out of the way and went straight into the kitchen. A moment later, a muffled scream came out. "Captain, there is something in the oven!"

Color drained from Carrie's face, but she yelled in denial, "No way! She made a total mess in there. She must've snuck out ages ago."

Her voice started trembling, her eyes darting around. "Or she would have long..."

The word "died" stuck in her throat. She refused to believe I was dead.

The officer studied her face. "We need to check every possible hiding spot."

The officers moved to handle the oven, and a spark of hope stirred in my dead, silent heart. "Finally, they're getting me out?"

Carrie suddenly rushed over and slammed the oven hard onto the floor. With a loud crash, its door popped open from the impact. The blackened, mangled mass mixed with murky body fluids splattered out from the jolt.

Carrie's face twisted into a victorious smirk. "I told you she wasn't in there. Otherwise, she'd have come out by now."

Even at this point, she stubbornly refused to accept the truth.

Just then, something round rolled slowly to her feet. Stefan and the officers looked down, all freezing in shock.