When Sophie’s children said they wished she didn’t exist, their words cut deeper than anything she had ever experienced. Fueled by anger and immaturity, they had no idea how powerful—and painful—their words could be. But Sophie decided to grant them their wish. Without warning, she vanished from their lives. If they truly believed they didn’t need her, then it was time they saw what life without her would really be like.
People often said being a housewife was easy—just lounging at home, living off your husband’s paycheck, no stress. What a laughable misunderstanding.
For Sophie, being a stay-at-home mom wasn’t a job—it was a relentless, never-ending race. Every day bled into the next, packed with endless chores, tantrums, cooking, cleaning, and the invisible emotional labor no one seemed to notice.
Liam, her spirited five-year-old, had entered that difficult stage where even the smallest thing could ignite a meltdown.
Clara, on the edge of adolescence, was full of sarcasm, attitude, and unpredictable outbursts.
And Nathan, her husband? He believed that because he brought home a paycheck, he was exempt from anything that happened under their roof. Sophie was exhausted, emotionally and physically.
That evening, they sat around the dinner table as usual. Dinner was the one time she tried to hold the family together, asking about their day, looking for connection.
Sophie glanced at Liam, who was pushing his peas around with a fork. “Liam, how was preschool today?” she asked with forced cheer.
He shrugged. “It was okay. But Miss Carter might call you tomorrow.”
Sophie blinked. “Why? What happened?”
“I wanted to pet this dog outside. But Miss Carter said not to—said it could have rab… rab…”
“Rabies,” Clara interrupted with an exaggerated eye roll.
“Yeah, rabies,” Liam repeated.
Sophie frowned. “And why would that make her call me?”
Liam hesitated, then said bluntly, “I didn’t like what she said, so I bit her.”
“You bit your teacher?” Sophie gasped.
Liam nodded without remorse. “She said rabies comes from bites. I wanted to show her.”
Clara snorted. “Mom, you’ve raised a wild animal.”
“Don’t talk about your brother like that,” Sophie snapped. She turned to Nathan, who was quietly chewing. “Nathan, anything to say?”
He looked up briefly. “You’re doing great, babe,” he mumbled, patting her hand before returning to his food.
Sophie sighed. “Liam, we’ve talked about this. Biting is wrong. You need to use your words—not your teeth.”
Then she turned to Clara. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” Clara said, not looking up.
“That’s it?”
“Oh, I’m sleeping over at Mia’s tomorrow, remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” Sophie replied, her energy draining.
The next day didn’t start well—and only got worse. Sophie walked into Liam’s room expecting it to be clean like she’d asked. Instead, it looked like a tornado had hit. Toys, books, laundry everywhere. She wanted to scream but had no time.
She had to drive to school and apologize to Miss Carter. It was humiliating.
Later, just as she sat down for the first time that day, the phone rang. Clara’s school. Clara had skipped class.
Sophie’s temper finally broke.
When the kids came home, she was waiting.
“Both of you, stop right there,” she said sternly.
Clara rolled her eyes. “Now what?”
Sophie looked at Liam. “Your room is a disaster. We had a deal—keep it clean, or I take your games. So, the console is mine until you show me you can clean up after yourself.”
“What? No way! That’s not fair!” Liam shouted.
Clara laughed. “Nice one, Liam.”
“I wouldn’t be laughing, Clara,” Sophie snapped. “Your school called. You skipped class.”
“It was one time!” Clara yelled, her face red.
“You’re grounded for a week. No sleepover.”
“You can’t do that! I’ve been planning this for weeks!” Clara screamed.
“Then you shouldn’t have skipped school.”
“I hate you! I wish you didn’t exist!” Clara screamed, slamming her door.
“Yeah! Me too!” Liam yelled and stomped off.
Sophie stood frozen, their words slicing her apart. Tears welled, but she swallowed them down.
When Nathan came home, she told him everything. He barely reacted.
“Well,” she said, hoping for support. “What do you think?”
“Maybe you were too hard on them,” he said with a shrug. “They’re just kids.”
“Did you hear what Clara said?”
“She didn’t mean it.”
“I’ve had enough,” Sophie said coldly. “If they think life is better without me—fine. I’ll show them.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nathan asked.
“You’ll see.”
That night, while the house slept, Sophie got to work. Nathan was a deep sleeper; he wouldn’t notice.
She packed all her belongings—clothes, photo albums, notebooks. Even her favorite mug. She wiped away every trace of herself.
Then, carrying her things to the attic, she turned it into a makeshift shelter. A mattress, a lamp, a blanket. Nathan never paid attention to the attic—it was the perfect hiding spot.
Before settling in, she installed cameras in the kitchen and living room. If they wanted life without her, she’d be watching.
The next morning, Sophie sat watching the live feed as her family stood in confusion.
“Where’s Mom?” Liam asked nervously.
“I don’t know,” Clara said, looking around. “Even her pictures are gone.”
“Her closet’s empty,” Nathan added, frowning.
“Did our wish come true?” Liam whispered. “Did she really disappear?”
“Don’t be silly,” Nathan said, but uncertainty flickered in his voice.
Nathan tried to call her, but Sophie had turned her phone off.
“Get in the car,” he said finally. “We’ll talk later.”
“Can I still go to Mia’s?” Clara asked.
“Sure, whatever,” he replied, annoyed.
“Yes!” Clara grinned. “Maybe it’s better this way. Mom was always nagging me.”
“I can play games all day now!” Liam shouted.
Sophie’s heart sank. They didn’t miss her. They seemed happy she was gone.
That evening, she watched as Nathan and Liam played video games. A pizza box sat open on the table. And then she saw Liam take a bite.
Her stomach clenched—he was lactose intolerant. Nathan hadn’t even noticed.
The next day, Liam was curled on the couch, pale and groaning. Nathan scrambled with medicine and canceled work.
By day three, the house was in chaos. Dirty dishes stacked high, laundry untouched, and the kids left with dry cereal for breakfast.
That night, Liam cried on the couch. Clara looked defeated, clutching her empty lunchbox.
“I miss Mom,” Liam sobbed. “I’ll clean my room every day. I promise.”
“I miss her too,” Clara whispered. “I got my period today. I didn’t know what to do. I needed her. I wanted to call her so bad. I feel awful.”
Nathan sighed. “This is what happens when you say things you don’t mean. You told her you wished she didn’t exist—and now she’s gone.”
Clara burst into tears. “I didn’t mean it! I was just angry!”
“I want her back,” Liam sniffled. “I won’t ever bite anyone again.”
Clara nodded through her sobs. “I’ll stop yelling. I’ll listen. I just want her home.”
Sophie couldn’t take it anymore. She stepped out of the shadows and into the room.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” she said, voice thick with emotion.
Their heads whipped around. They gasped—then ran to her, wrapping their arms around her.
“Mom! You’re back!” they cried.
Nathan approached, eyes wide. “These past few days showed me how much you really do. I’m sorry. I’ll help more—I promise.”
Sophie nodded, tears in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you,” he said.
“Mom, we love you so much!” the kids cried, clinging to her tightly.
And this time, they meant it.