I was Kidnapped By Gangsters, But My Mother Didn’t Save Me

On the day a thug threw acid on my face, my mom was at my cousin's coming-of-age ceremony.

Ironically, it was also my birthday.

Dying, I sent my mom a desperate voice message for help. She shot back a text: [Stop playing these games for attention. You don't fool me.]

That same night, Mom got called into work to handle a case involving a woman's body.

The body was beyond recognition, and her limbs were mutilated.

For three straight days and nights, Mom pieced together that the victim had suffered unspeakable abuse and died in utter despair.

She cursed the killer's cruelty.

What she didn't realize was that the dead woman was me, the daughter she hated.

***

They found my body three days later in a trash pile at the market.

It reeked so bad that a stray dog sniffing around for food started barking like crazy.

A passing patrol officer, alerted by the noise, discovered the disfigured corpse.

Quickly, the local police formed a special task force led by my mother, Jennifer Cooper.

When my mom arrived at the crime scene, she looked upset. Her team, aware she had taken a personal day, murmured apologies, "Captain Cooper, we know you were off for your daughter's coming-of-age. But this case is big, and you're the best we've got."

Mom's expression softened slightly, but she didn't clarify that she had actually been at her niece Kelly Butler's ceremony, not her daughter's. She treated Kelly as her own.

Despite her extensive experience, Mom appeared pale and gravely serious at the scene.

"Looks like she went through hell before she died," Mom muttered, examining the body's wounds.

Her face twisted in anger as she spat out, "Asshole. So damn cruel."

There I was, silently watching over my own corpse. Even as a spirit, the memories of my final torment brought pain and fear.

Right then, a forensic expert walked over, a grim look on his face as he shared the latest findings with Mom. "She bled out from her liver. And..." he hesitated, "Her fingerprints were destroyed. Identifying her is gonna be tough."

Mom paused, her mind racing back to a similar case from a few months ago.

"There was a case like this out of state recently. Same M.O.," she directed one of her team, "Charlie, dig into that."

Standing there as a spirit, watching my mom work so intently, I couldn't help but think, "Mom has always been the person I looked up to, all my life."

The detectives hadn't found much since this wasn't the primary scene. Eventually, about a thousand feet from the landfill, they stumbled upon a cake smashed on the ground, its frosting spoiled.

"Probably the victim's," one of the cops guessed.

Mom bit her lip, pulled out her phone, hesitated, but finally made the call. All she got was a busy signal.

She hung up quickly, her face clouding over as she muttered, "Where the hell is Yasmin messing around now? Didn't even show up for Kelly's ceremony. She's becoming ruder by the day, completely ignoring me."

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with sadness.

I realized then, "Mom actually forgot that Kelly's ceremony was on my birthday."

On that birthday, Mom had left with Kelly right in front of me, not even bothering to say a word.

They wrapped my body up and shipped it back to the police station.

"It's gonna be tough to ID her. DNA comparison could take days," the forensic expert mentioned.

Mom nodded, stripped off her gloves after a fruitless search, and headed back with the team.

Charlie glanced at my ruined face and said sadly, "Captain Cooper, the victim's family must be heartbroken. We've got to catch the bastard who did it."

Mom kept her face straight. Charlie continued, "But Captain Cooper, with your skills, I bet this case will be closed in no time."

Used to the praise, Mom simply urged Charlie to speed up reviewing files from similar out-of-state cases.

I knew from childhood that my mom was an excellent cop.

Ever since I can remember, she was always buried in cases at the station. Her photo often made the news for her breakthroughs. They called her a whiz.

Most of my childhood, I watched her on TV. In her police uniform, she looked so formidable that I admired her.

Facing reporters, she'd calmly assert, "Our job is to protect the public. Please trust us."

I wondered, "Mom, what will you feel when you discover it's my body?

Will you be sad for me? Probably not."

I still remembered you yelling as you choked me, "I wish it was you who died!"

Now, late at night, Charlie noticed Mom's stress and tried to lighten the mood. "Alright, Captain Cooper. Let us take it from here. You should head home to your daughter. Today's her special day."

Mom sent a message, a smile involuntarily spreading across her face. She casually corrected him, "It's not my daughter's special day. It's my niece's. She's waiting for me to join her for dinner."

With that, she quickly walked away.

Left behind, Charlie awkwardly muttered, "So her niece is the one who sometimes brings meals here.

Why doesn't she ever talk about her daughter?"

I had the same question, but sadly, I died before finding any answers.

It'd been a week since I disappeared.

Yet, Mom acted as if I never even existed. Ironically, it was Kelly who first noticed I was missing.

"Auntie Jennifer, Yasmin hasn't been home in days. You don't think something's happened to her, do you?" Kelly asked timidly, looking especially vulnerable in her white dress.

Mom gave Kelly a warm smile she'd never shown me. "Don't worry about that heartless girl. She even skipped your coming-of-age ceremony. Probably just out messing around.

I'm here for you, just like your mom wanted me to be before she passed."

Kelly's eyes quickly welled up with tears. She hugged Mom and whispered through her sobs, "I knew it, you're the best to me, Auntie Jennifer."

Mom hugged her back, soothing her gently, "You're my favorite, Kelly."

Watching them, my heart ached. I stood there, seeing the motherly love I never received being given to someone else.

Dad had died when I was very young. In middle school, my mom's elder sister, Maria, Kelly's mom, died from a serious illness. On her deathbed, Maria entrusted Kelly to my mom.

After that, Mom brought Kelly home and made me move out of my room so Kelly could have it.

I resisted this new arrangement. I didn't want to move.

Mom's patience ran thin quickly. She slapped me across the face, twice.

The hatred in her eyes stopped me from even covering my burning cheek.

"Yasmin, you think you can defy me now, huh? Do as I say. Don't make me kick you out," warned Mom.

That night, I cried myself to sleep in the dark, damp basement, nearly suffocating from my sobs. The next day, Mom saw my swollen eyes and showed no concern.

That was the moment I knew for sureMom really hated me.

Snapped out of my memories, all I felt was pain.

Kelly handed Mom a certificate, beaming proudly. "Auntie Jennifer, check it out. I won first place in the speech contest. Pretty cool, right?"

Mom's eyes lit up with sheer affection. She examined the certificate and then planted a big kiss on Kelly's cheek. "Sweetie, you're incredible. You really are my good girl."

Kelly paused, her smile then brightening even more. "Auntie Jennifer, I wouldn't be who I am today without you. Can I call you mom?"

Mom seemed surprised but moved, her eyes misting over. "Oh, my dear girl. Of course, you can."

Kelly bit her lip, looking a bit anxious. "But what about Yasmin? She's your real daughter. Wouldn't she be upset?"

Mentioning me never brought a smile to Mom's face. She scoffed, "She never even calls me mom. What kind of daughter is she? She might as well be dead for all I care."

I thought to myself, "Mom, you got your wish."

Watching my mom and Kelly embrace tore me apart.

"Mom, you were the one who pushed me away," I reflected.

I should have seen this day coming.

Since Kelly moved in, she had been playing the role of the good daughter I never could.

She charmed Mom, took her shopping, and even delivered meals to the station when Mom was too busy to make it home.

Kelly fit the role of Mom's daughter far better than I ever did.

The night stretched on, the cold wind echoing my solitude. I floated, adrift.

I wondered, "Does Mom even spare a moment to think how I spent my birthday?"

The station had been all hands on deck for the past couple of days with the Jane Doe case.

Mom had been buried in work, unable to get home. With Kelly away on a study trip, there was no one to drop off meals for her.

Late one night, while Charlie was handing out snacks to the night shift, he joked, "No food delivery from your niece today, huh?

And hey, Captain Cooper, I've never seen your daughter around. Are you keeping her hidden so we don't steal her away?"

Mom stopped reaching for her snack and frowned. "Don't bring that brat up. Just talking about her annoys me."

Charlie, unaware of her irritation, kept talking. "Captain Cooper, heard you lost out on a promotion way back because you were pregnant. Never really got another shot, did you? That's too bad."

He punched his fist into his palm, trying to cheer her up. "Who knows, maybe cracking this case will finally get you that promotion."

Mom glanced at him, annoyed. "Let's just focus on the case, okay? Cut the small talk, or you can kiss any promotion goodbye."

I stood next to Mom, chuckling to myself.

I thought, "Mom, if my death somehow secures the promotion you've always wanted, maybe it's worth it.

At least it would make up for all those years of 'raising' me, though you were far from a model parent."

Maybe because my name came up, Mom pulled out her phone and dialed my number. She hadn't bothered to save it with any special note.

In contrast, Kelly's number was pinned at the top of her contacts, complete with a heart emoji next to her name.

When my phone didn't connect, Mom quickly lost her patience. She shoved her phone back into her bag, cursing under her breath, "Damn it, she's been out for days without a word. What, is she selling herself? But with her sour face, no guy would want her. Such a bitch, always causing me trouble."

I couldn't help a bitter smile, thinking, "Mom, did you really despise me that much? Well, you won't have to see me ever again. That should make you happy."

The other officers had never seen Mom lash out like that, especially about her own daughter. They exchanged uneasy glances, staying silent, with only the sound of flipping papers filling the room.

At 2 AM, the case finally cracked open.

Warren, the medical examiner, looking exhausted, approached Mom with a stack of papers, ready to share the latest findings.

"There are multiple injuries on the victim," he explained, his voice heavy with disgust. "We also found a necklace, seems like the killer took it off the victim and hid it in her body."

Mom seemed to zone out, fixating on the necklace in the photo as if she hadn't heard a thing.

Leaning closer, I recognized it. It was the silver necklace I'd worn since childhood, engraved with my name.

It had been a gift from my dad before he passed away.

Mom clutched the photo tightly, her hands shaking. "Are we sure this necklace belonged to the victim?"

"Absolutely. It was well-hidden. I nearly missed it. And from the pelvic bones, the victim was no more than 20 years old. What a real tragedy," Warren said, visibly angry.

The rest of the team murmured their sympathy for the young victim. Charlie noticed Mom's intense focus on the photo and came over for a closer look.

He soon noticed something. Frowning, he asked, "Is there writing on this?

Y... C... What does that stand for?"

They were my initials, Yasmin Cooper.