I Kept My Favorite to Myself, but You Forced Me to Go Mad!

I lived for twenty-three years.

For twenty-three years, my own mother hated me.

I was the stain on her life that could never be erased.

The rat infesting her house.

I could be the byword for anything disgusting, but never her daughter.

When I died in her place, my greatest wish was simply for her to look at me once. Just once.

But she never did. Even in death, I was nothing but a lonely ghost.