"Mom, I was wrong! I know I was wrong! I was just upset!"

"Mom, I'm begging you, please don't tear up my letter! It's my fault! I shouldn't have talked back to you! I'm really, really sorry!"

I don't remember how many times I bowed my head to the floor.

Before she slowly tossed the acceptance letter in front of me.

She spoke like a merciful queen pardoning a criminal: "Fine, now go pack your things."

After kneeling on the tile floor for so long, I struggled to push myself up.

I instinctively looked for a hand to help me.

Only to see that my dad had long since retreated from the conflict.

He was sitting at the dining table like nothing had happened, sipping the hot porridge from the rice cooker, bite by bite.

As punishment for talking back to her this time.

My mom confiscated all the money I'd saved from my summer tutoring job.

And she cut my already tiny allowance by two-thirds.

But worst of all.

She went through my luggage and took out every single hat and scarf.

She demanded that I walk onto my college campus with this patchy, ugly buzz cut.

Hoping, I'm sure, that I would become the laughingstock of the entire university for the next four years.

The freshman check-in area on campus was a sea of people.

Every single person who saw my bald head.

Couldn't help but whisper and stare.

Some people whispered that I must be sick, maybe cancer.

Others figured I had some kind of contagious scalp condition.

A few thought I was just some punk trying to make a statement.

But without exception.

They all kept their distance.

No matter how many years I'd endured it, I could never get used to those looks.

I kept my head down, letting my mom pull me through the crowd.

She was filling out my forms, picking up my bedding.

Loading money onto my meal card, taking care of every little detail for me.

My dad silently followed behind us, carrying my heavy luggage.

And there I was, with my bizarre bald head and empty hands, just letting them bustle around me.

To any outsider.

I looked like their spoiled, precious princess.

Little did they know, this was their standard routine.

They acted like the most devoted parents in public.

Just so that if I ever had a conflict with them later.

Everyone would immediately take their side.

After we finished the registration process.

A senior student led us to the freshman dorms.

Seeing that a few of my roommates were already there unpacking.

My mom's very first words were.

"Hi girls, this is my daughter, Chloe. She'll be in your classes from now on. She's not all there in the head, so I hope you'll look after her."

My new, unfamiliar roommates just stared at each other.

They looked at my bald head, then back at my mom.

They could only manage an awkward but polite nod.

My mom, thinking she'd gotten the response she wanted, beamed.

As she started making my bed, she launched into a long, rambling story of every embarrassing thing I'd ever done.

I bit my lip, unsure how to defend myself.

I could only try to comfort myself.

She's leaving soon.

Just get through today and she'll be gone.

For the next four years, if I just work hard enough.

I'll never have to go back to that house again.

Just get through today, and I'll be free.

But as the sun began to set, and all my roommates had left to get dinner.

My mom and I were still sitting there, staring at each other.

Finally, I worked up the courage to ask, "Mom, what time is your bus? Is Dad still waiting for you at the station?"

"What bus? I'm not going anywhere tonight."

My mom's voice was triumphant, as if she were showing off to her own daughter.

"Didn't you know? I passed the first round for my promotion at work a few days ago. I just have to get through the final interview with corporate. Your school happens to be really close to the interview location, so I'll just leave after my interview next week. It'll give me a chance to see how you're settling in at college, too."