A Hopeful Beginning​

Summary

The first time my mother looked at me, her eyes were filled with sorrow.

She wouldn't hold me, wouldn't feed me. She just let me wail until my throat was raw.

I was born with all my memories, so I knew that in my last life, she had loved me more than life itself.

But when I was three, I died in a fall from our balcony. The tragedy shattered her mind, and she lived out the rest of her days in a fog of pain.

Reborn, my mother had chosen a different path. A quick, sharp pain now was better than a long, drawn-out agony later.