The day that I wanted to die more than any other day. I am starting this today because of that very reason. Today is the reason, that I lost all the reasons to live.

All this while, I was living for the sake of my mom. She who had nothing but chaos consuming her whole life deserved some peace and happiness. For that reason, I am working hard. It was not as fruitful as I wanted it to be, but I worked really hard.

But today, because of one meaningless incident, my mom made something very clear to me.

The incident is so insignificant. Today, in the evening puja, I forgot to put cow's milk as an offering for the god—one mistake.

And after that, when my mom asked me if I read everything correctly, I gave a slight pause. A pause that didn't even last more than two seconds. She didn't like it.

She asked me the reason, but I didn't dare say it out loud. Because I am sure that she wouldn't believe me.

The reason I gave a pause is that my mind didn't register her question. I was sleep deprived for the past three days. So, my mind is not working. I lost her question in a daze and took some time for me to react.

Will she believe me if I said that? The answer is no. She will just say that I am giving out a pathetic excuse.

She did exactly that. She got angry that I forgot to put milk and from that point, she took her anger out on me. She pulled my hair while I was eating.

She scratched my face and cheeks while my mouth was full, making me choke and lose my breath. She beat me up on my back with a steel bottle.

She was constantly lecturing me and when I maintained eye contact, she said that I am looking at her and that I wanted to kill her.

That hurt me more. I died a bit inside to hear that my mom would think less of me.

I was never angry at my mom, no matter what she did to me. I was always angry at myself. I looked for ways to punish myself. In fact, a week before writing this part, I started punishing myself like that. Every day, I bash my head on the wall as much as I can. Until I lose my balance.

Because I am such a burden to my mom, she deserves better than me. Maybe that is why god gave her my brother.

I hurt her so much and the only reason that I have for myself is that I never intended to. Whether she believes it or not, I always wanted to be the best son she deserved. But I always ended up hurting her.

For that reason, I resent myself. I resent god for making my mother suffer through me. I don't know who will read this. If this ever even comes out. But if someone is reading this and if you believe what you are reading, please try to tell my mom, that I tried and tell her that it was never my intention to hurt her.

As I am writing this, all I can think of is how pathetic I am for not having enough guts to kill myself right away.

My mom asked me if I pray to god every day, wishing her she would die. But will she ever believe me if I tell her, that I only pray for my death? What should I do to make her believe? What should I do to make her happy?

The only reason I am living is to make her happy by earning enough to give her whatever she wants. But does that outweigh the sorrow and grief that I am causing her now? Is my life worth living? Wouldn't she be better off, if I die right away?