Early the next morning, my mom hurried everyone in the house to get up and prepare for a visit to my grandmother's house.

She deliberately raised her voice and said, "Grandma’s giving Jason a gift today. Lazy trash doesn’t get one."

Listening to her words, I took two steps forward, unable to hide my longing.

In the past, every New Year, my grandmother would give both Jason and me gifts and pocket money.

I always hoped I could freely spend that money to buy something I actually needed.

However, my mom always said that lazy people did not deserve money, so I never had any.

Unfortunately, it was also my only chance to get some pocket money.

If it were before, hearing my mom say that would have made me rush over immediately, admit my mistakes, and beg her to take me along.

I could not do that anymore.

"Erwin still hasn't come out?" my dad asked as he adjusted his clothes.

"No. He probably thinks if he keeps this up, I'll eventually soften."

My mom slipped on her shoes impatiently.

"Does he think being my son makes him special? Someone who doesn't work hard might as well be dead!"

Jason walked to the doorway of my room and looked around.

He covered his nose and pointed at the wet stains on the floor, frowning in disgust.

"Mom, Erwin smells awful. He's lying on the floor and has made your floor so dirty. It's disgusting!"

I floated in midair, watching his performance.

I had been so cold that I could barely crawl back into the bedroom. I had not even had time to clean up the water.

My mom walked over and frowned in irritation.

"Erwin Hunt!"

She sniffed the air, her expression darkening further.

"How can you be this lazy? Didn't you say you were sick? You can't even maintain basic hygiene, and now you're ruining the house, too! You're so lazy, you're practically a pig!"

Suddenly, I remembered something from when I was younger.

To make us finish our tasks, my mom once set a rule: anyone who did not complete them was not allowed to bathe.

I tried my best, but I still could not finish them.

In the scorching summer heat, I smelled so bad that my classmates refused to sit next to me.

My teacher called my mom to take me home so I could wash.

Instead, she dragged me to the school field.

"This lazy piece of trash doesn't deserve a bath. He stinks!"

Everything I had gone through…had been caused by her.

My dad frowned and spoke hesitantly, saying, "Erwin isn't that kind of child. Maybe we should go inside and check. What if something has happened?"

He stood up and began walking toward my bedroom.

I watched him expectantly.

I hoped he would open the door.

If he would just take one close look, he would see my stiff, lifeless body.

I followed closely behind him, silently praying.

Just then, my mom's phone rang.

She glanced at it and immediately grabbed my dad's arm to stop him.

"Why bother with him? Mom's already calling to rush us. Let's go."

Under her urging, he eventually turned around and left with the others.

I stood there in a daze.

He had been just one step away from opening the door.

If he had been just a little more determined, he would have discovered what had happened to me.

Then, I would not have been the lazy child they thought I was.

My parents and Jason spent the entire day at my grandmother's house.

That evening, they returned home carrying bags full of things.

The moment my mom stepped inside and saw the mess still outside my bedroom door, she was furious.

"Erwin! Are you planning to play dead in there and slack off for the rest of your life?"

When I did not respond, she simply found the key and locked my bedroom door from the outside.

"Since you like pretending to be sick and dead, then keep pretending forever! Let's see how you'll survive in there!"

She clapped her hands in satisfaction before turning away to watch television with the rest of the family.

Watching their cheerful expressions, a chill spread through my heart.

To my mom, whether I was alive or dead did not matter.

The only thing she cared about was that her authority could never be questioned.

So, my life meant less than her pride.

The next morning, my mom woke up early.

As soon as she stepped outside, she smelled a foul odor drifting from my room.

In her mind, my illness had been a lie, and my motionless body was just an act, something I was doing to perform for her.

So, she immediately assumed that, in my stubborn refusal to apologize, I had even chosen to relieve myself inside the room.

"Erwin, you filthy pig of a brat! You actually dared to defecate in your room?"

She screamed and rushed into the bathroom, grabbing the iron rod.

She stormed toward my bedroom door.

Like a madwoman, she smashed the door open and charged inside.

Seeing me still lying on the floor, her eyes burned with rage.

"Today, I'll teach you a real lesson! Let's see how long you keep pretending!"

She thought I was challenging her.

With a loud thud, the iron rod came crashing down.

My body made a dull sound like a sandbag.

However, I never struggled.

I never made a sound.

She grew agitated and kicked my head.

There was a sickening crack.

My neck twisted into an unnatural angle.

"Ah!" she screamed.