I hate my mom.
I hate her timid face, always trying to please everyone.
I hate how she never stands up for herself. When her university admission letter was torn up, she didn't say a word.
When she was sold to be the cripple's wife, she didn't say a word either.
She was wrong in every way, terrible in every way, but she loved me.
And the person who loved me like that died on the way to see me.
Tips: A short practice piece, first-person, about family love.
Theme: Expressing your own thoughts
