When Adeline’s kids said they wished she didn’t exist, their words cut deeper than any pain she’d ever felt. Angry and thoughtless, they didn’t understand the weight of their words. Adeline decided to take their wish seriously, disappearing from their lives without a trace. It was time they learned what life would be like without her.
People often said being a housewife was easy—staying home, relaxing, living off a husband’s hard work. What a mistake.
For Adeline, being a stay-at-home mom was no easy job; it was a nonstop race with no breaks. Her days blurred with cleaning, cooking, calming tantrums, and juggling endless tasks.
Cedric, her lively but stubborn five-year-old, was at an age where every little thing sparked a fight.
Florence, nearing her pre-teen years, was full of attitude and unpredictable moods.
And her husband, Bartholomew? He thought his paycheck excused him from household chores. It was exhausting.
That evening, as usual, they gathered for dinner. Sharing their day was a routine, often full of surprises.
Adeline looked at Cedric, who was poking at his peas. “Cedric, how was preschool today?” she asked, forcing a cheerful tone.
He shrugged. “It was okay, but Miss Carter might call you tomorrow.”
That caught her off guard. “Why would she call?” Adeline asked, setting down her fork.
“I wanted to pet a dog outside, but Miss Carter said you shouldn’t touch stray dogs because they might have rab—rab—” Cedric frowned, searching for the word.
“Rabies,” Florence cut in, rolling her eyes dramatically.
Cedric nodded. “Yeah, rabies.”
“And why would that make her call me?” Adeline pressed.
Cedric hesitated, then blurted, “I didn’t like what she said, so I bit her.”
Adeline stared, shocked. “You bit your teacher?” Her voice rose without meaning to.
Cedric nodded, unfazed. “She said rabies comes from bites. I wanted to show her.”
“Mom, you raised a wild animal,” Florence muttered, smirking.
“Don’t talk about your brother like that,” Adeline said sharply. She turned to Bartholomew, who was focused on his food. “Bartholomew, do you have anything to say?”
He glanced up briefly. “You’re doing great, love,” he said, giving her hand a quick pat.
Adeline sighed, turning back to Cedric. “We’ve talked about this, Cedric. You can’t bite people. It hurts, and it’s wrong. Use words to express yourself next time.”
Then she faced Florence. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” Florence said, barely looking up.
“That’s it?” Adeline asked.
“Oh, I’m staying at Isadora’s tomorrow, remember?” Florence added casually.
“Yes, I remember,” Adeline said, feeling her energy drain.
The next day started badly and got worse. When Adeline checked Cedric’s room, expecting it to be tidied as she’d asked, it looked like a tornado had hit.
Toys, clothes, and books were scattered everywhere. Her patience wore thin, but there was no time to deal with it.
She had to apologize to Miss Carter for Cedric’s bite, which was humiliating.
Then, as she finally sat down to catch her breath, the phone rang. Florence’s school reported that she had skipped classes. Adeline’s frustration boiled over. By the time the kids got home, she was ready for a serious talk.
“Both of you, stop right there,” Adeline said as Cedric and Florence headed to their rooms. Her tone stopped them cold.
“What now?” Florence asked, sounding annoyed.
“Let’s start with you, Cedric,” Adeline said. “I saw your room. It’s a mess. We agreed if you didn’t keep it clean, I’d take your games. Your console is mine until you show me you can keep it tidy.”
Cedric’s eyes widened. “What? No way! That’s not fair!” he shouted, crossing his arms.
Florence smirked. “Nice one, Cedric,” she said mockingly.
“I wouldn’t laugh, Florence,” Adeline snapped. “Your school called. You skipped class.”
“It was just once!” Florence yelled, her face red with anger.
“You’re grounded for a week,” Adeline said firmly. “No sleepover at Isadora’s.”
“You can’t do this! I’ve been planning that forever!” Florence screamed, fists clenched.
“Then you shouldn’t have skipped class,” Adeline replied calmly.
“I hate you! I wish you didn’t exist!” Florence shouted, storming to her room and slamming the door.
“Yeah! Me too!” Cedric yelled, running to his own room.
Adeline stood there, tears stinging her eyes. Her chest felt heavy, but she swallowed the lump in her throat.
When Bartholomew got home, she told him about the day. He listened quietly, barely responding.
“Well?” she asked, desperate for support.
“Maybe you were too hard on them,” he said, shrugging. “They’re just kids.”
“Did you hear what Florence said to me?” Adeline asked, her voice shaking with frustration.
“She didn’t mean it,” Bartholomew said dismissively.
“I’ve had enough,” Adeline said, her voice cold. “I’ll show them what it’s like without me.”
“What do you mean?” Bartholomew asked, confused.
“You’ll see,” she said, walking away.
That night, with the house quiet, Adeline began her plan. Bartholomew, a heavy sleeper, didn’t stir.
She moved silently, gathering everything that was hers—clothes from the closet, photos from the walls, notebooks from the desk.
Even her favorite morning mug went into a box. She left no trace of herself.
With everything packed, she carried it to the attic. The dusty, cramped space became her hideout, with a mattress, a small lamp, and a blanket. Bartholomew wouldn’t think to look here; he barely noticed the attic existed.
Before settling in, she set up cameras in the kitchen and living room to watch how they coped without her. This was just the start.
The next morning, Adeline watched the camera feed as they stood in the kitchen, looking lost.
“Where’s Mom?” Cedric asked, his voice uneasy.
“I don’t know,” Florence said, scanning the room. “Even her pictures are gone. The ones on the wall, too.”
“Her clothes aren’t in the closet,” Bartholomew added, scratching his head.
Cedric’s eyes grew wide. “Did our wish come true? Did Mom really disappear?”
“Don’t be silly,” Bartholomew said, shaking his head.
“But she’s gone!” Florence insisted. “Her stuff’s not here. There’s no sign of her.”
Bartholomew pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her. Probably some joke.” But Adeline had turned her phone off. He stared at the screen, then pocketed it.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said, irritated. “I’ll drop you at school. We’ll figure this out later.”
Florence hesitated. “Can I still go to Isadora’s sleepover?”
“Yeah, sure. Just get in the car,” Bartholomew said impatiently.
“Yes!” Florence cheered, then grinned. “Maybe it’s better this way. Mom was always on my case.”
“That means I can play video games!” Cedric shouted, jumping.
Adeline’s chest tightened as she watched. They didn’t miss her; they seemed relieved. They were happy she was gone.
That evening, the camera showed Bartholomew and Cedric on the couch, laughing and playing video games.
A pizza box sat open on the coffee table, grease stains spreading.
Adeline noticed Cedric eating a cheesy slice. Her stomach knotted. He was lactose intolerant. Bartholomew, caught up in the game, had clearly forgotten.
The next morning confirmed her fears. Cedric was curled up on the couch, pale and groaning.
Bartholomew fumbled for medicine, muttering to himself. He stayed home from work, trying to comfort Cedric while cleaning up the mess.
By the third day, chaos took over. Dishes piled up, laundry sat untouched, and the kids headed to school with only dry cereal.
That evening, Cedric sat crying on the couch, overwhelmed. Even Florence, usually aloof, looked defeated, her hair a mess as she clutched her empty lunchbox.
“I miss Mom,” Cedric said, looking at Bartholomew. His face was tear-streaked, his lip trembling.
“Me too,” Florence added softly, staring at her hands. “I got my period today and didn’t know what to do. I wanted to call Mom so bad, but I couldn’t. It felt awful.”
Bartholomew sighed, leaning back. “I think this is because of what you said. You told her you wished she didn’t exist. She’s showing you what that feels like.”
“That’s not true!” Florence said, her voice breaking. Tears spilled over. “I was just mad. I didn’t mean it. I’m so stupid for saying that.”
Cedric sniffled. “I want Mom back. I’ll clean my room every day. I won’t bite anyone again. I promise.”
Florence wiped her face. “I’ll stop yelling at her. I’ll listen better. I can’t live without her. I miss her so much,” she sobbed.
Their words broke Adeline’s resolve. She stepped from the shadows, standing in the doorway. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” she said, her voice firm but emotional.
They turned, shocked, then ran into her arms. “Mom! You’re back!” they cried, hugging her tightly.
“It’s so good to see you,” Bartholomew said, walking over. “These past few days showed me what an incredible job you do. I’ll try to make things easier from now on.”
“Thank you,” Adeline said softly.
“No, thank you, for everything,” Bartholomew replied.
“Thank you, Mom! We love you so much!” the kids said, holding on tight.
