One Cent a Day: My Mom's Anti‑Degenerate Plan

My mom wants me to report every single detail in my life to her every day. I only get to receive my allowance once I do so. One phone call is equivalent to me receiving one cent.

"My dear daughter, I love you so much, you know. Just let me know whatever you're doing every day. Only then can I relax."

I don't have the heart to let my mom down, so every day I put all of my effort into coming up with something. That way, I can only gather enough money to buy the cheapest food in the cafeteria.

But the food isn't enough to sustain me, leaving me hungry every day. Finally, I break down emotionally.

That is, until I receive an allowance from my dad, who's supposed to be dead for many years…

"Lottie, you only told me you were up after you finished brushing your teeth today. I'm so hurt. As your punishment, I'm only paying you for checking in once."

My phone chimed, showing I had received one cent.

I twisted my lips into a grimace. The cheapest breakfast option at the cafeteria was a bowl of plain oatmeal, and it cost one dollar. With the one cent I just received, I still needed one cent more before I could afford a bowl.

"Mom, I had a fever yesterday and wasn't feeling well. That's why I woke up late today. I was genuinely in a hurry. I promise I won't miss out checking in with you again," I pleaded softly.

Despite her gentle tone, Mom's voice was firm as she replied, "Sweetheart, everyone has to accept the consequences of their mistakes. A mistake is a mistake, and there's no changing that.

"Stop making excuses. You've always been a good girl, so I don't want you to turn into one of those bad kids who only know how to make excuses for their wrongdoings."

My head dropped in dejection as my earlier excitement at being quick enough to avoid being late for class vanished in an instant.

"Got it, Mom. I'm heading off to class now."

"Good girl. Alright, go ahead. Remember to pay attention in class and report to me everything that happens today, okay? Just like usual. What the professor taught, what you did, how you performed—everything."

I answered with an obedient, "Okay."

Upon entering the lecture hall, I moved to stand at the very back like I always did.

This morning's lecture was a public class, so a lot of students I didn't recognize were whispering to each other. "Hey, why is that person always standing at the back?"

One of the students who knew the reason why smirked and replied, "She's a total momma's girl. Every time the professor says something, she'll take a photo and send it to her mom.

"Since her phone is super lousy, the camera's shutter can't be silenced. The incessant clicking is loud and annoying, so the professor said she could only stand at the back to avoid bothering everyone else."

I couldn't help but lower my head to avoid the stares aimed at me. Meanwhile, my hands gripped my badly cracked phone tightly.

Among the people staring at me were my roommates, who used to be on good terms with me.

One day a while back, they noticed that Mom would transfer me some money every day, and they insisted that I treat them to a meal.

However, I genuinely didn't have that much money, so I could only refuse their suggestion, as well as every other meal invitation after that.

This caused them to think I was stingy and difficult to get along with. Eventually, they unanimously decided to distance themselves from me.

What they were unaware of was that every time Mom transferred me money, it was just one cent. Every day, I would have to check in with her close to a thousand times, just to earn a few bucks.

…

Perhaps it was due to the weather being too hot and the lack of air conditioning in the dormitory, but one of my roommates, Wendy Holt, developed a boil on her butt.

Before it was time for lights-out, she called to tearfully complain to her parents. My other roommates kept trying to comfort her, but since I wasn't liked, I didn't bother approaching her.

Instead, I headed to the pantry and filled up her thermos for her, then sat down on my bed and silently watched the commotion coming from her side of the room.

The next morning, her parents came to the campus and brought her to the hospital.

Her mother was incredibly gentle and sweet. When she delivered Wendy back to the room, she even offered to treat us all to a meal.

At the restaurant, Wendy clung to her mother, acting cute and playful. Her mother was all smiles as she kept piling food onto Wendy's plate, all of which were Wendy's favorites. Every now and then, she would utter a loving reminder.

As I chewed on some leafy greens, a luxury I hadn't been able to enjoy in ages, I watched them from the corner of my eye. I felt like some sort of villain, hiding in a dark corner as I spied on their bliss and happiness.