“You should be grateful for a lifetime that I’m teaching you these good habits! Everything I do is for your own good.”

She sank back into her self-righteous role of the perfect, caring mother.

I was in such pain that I could barely breathe, my arms and legs weak.

Finally, by accident, I knocked over the bucket of water.

It splashed across the floor.

Just then, Jacob ran in, shouting as he came:

“Mom! I want to see the puppy mop the floor!”

He ran too fast and didn’t see the puddle. His foot slipped and he fell flat on the ground, bursting into loud wails.

Mom immediately kicked me hard into the wall.

“You worthless brat! Can’t even mop the floor properly! Were you trying to kill your brother?”

I didn’t even have the strength to cry.

I lay weak on the ground, groaning:

“It wasn’t me…”

Jacob only cried harder.

“It was her! It was her! I saw her do it on purpose!”

Mom’s fury exploded. She snatched up the dripping mop and slammed it against me.

Soaked and heavy, it hit with crushing force, each blow making me wish for death as the only release.

“Lying again! You’re lying again! So young, and already rotten!”

“Are you jealous that your brother is better at everything, so you want to hurt him?”

“How can a child’s mind be this vicious?”

Terrified, I didn’t dare cry. I crawled forward, biting my lip, wiping up the water little by little.

But she had no intention of letting me go.

She cursed while striking harder and harder, until I was barely conscious, gasping for air.

“You jinx, you’re a born bad seed! Nothing will ever fix you!”

In her rage, she lifted the bucket and dumped all the filthy water over me.

My body gave out—cold and burning all at once.

I collapsed, eyelids so heavy I thought I would die right there.

Just then, I heard a voice outside shout:

“Stop!”

When I woke again, Aunt Lisa was sitting by my side.

She was the only person in this world who ever cared for me.

Her eyes were red from crying as she whispered:

“Emily, you’ve suffered so much. There isn’t a single spot on your body without bruises.”

“I begged your mom to let you live with me, but your parents refused…”

“They said if you left, no one would be here to look after Jacob.”

Before she could finish, Dad stormed in.

He grabbed Aunt Lisa’s arm and flung her to the ground.

“This is our family business! Who are you to meddle?”

“You think having some money makes you special?”

“Unless you hand over your whole fortune, you’ll never take my daughter. I’d rather beat her to death first!”

He yanked me out of bed like a rag doll.

“Lazy trash! Still lying here? Get up and make dinner for Jacob!”

“Good for nothing! All you ever do is steal your brother’s chocolate!”

“Jinx! Worthless brat! Ever since you were born, my luck at the casino has never once been good!”

As he cursed, he dragged me toward the kitchen.

Then he turned and shoved Aunt Lisa out the door with a brutal blow.

“Bring me half a billion dollars, or don’t even dream of taking this little brat away!”

Aunt Lisa looked at me, sick and barely standing, still being forced to cook for them. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

She was wealthy, but only comfortably so—she couldn’t possibly hand over that kind of money.

I knew she wanted to help, but she was powerless.

As I cooked, I swayed on my feet.

Dad sat outside, calculating his gambling money, and shouted into the kitchen:

“Hurry up! You trying to starve your old man? How did I end up with such a useless kid?”

Then he bellowed at Mom:

“You useless woman! Why are there still so many rats in this house? What if they bite Jacob?”

The sound of crashes followed.

I didn’t need to look—I knew Dad was hitting Mom again.

Terror gripped me.

I sped up my work, but my hands trembled uncontrollably.

By mistake, I grabbed the wrong container and poured it into the rice jar.

When I looked closer, my heart stopped.

It was the rat poison Mom had warned me about.

Panic nearly broke me.

If they found out I had ruined a whole jar of rice, they’d beat me to death.

In those few seconds, I imagined every possible way I might die.

Just then, Mom’s furious voice came from outside:

“You little brat! What’s taking you so long in there? Want your dad, your mom, and your brother to starve?”

“With laziness like yours, what future could you possibly have?”

I froze, my hands still in the rice.

She stormed in and pressed the hot pan straight onto my hand.

Instantly, blisters erupted, and I screamed in agony.

From outside, Dad shouted impatiently:

“Shut up, jinx! Stop yelling!”

I bit back my cries.

All I could do was watch as Mom, smiling, carried the food to the table.

They ate happily, as if they were the real family.

And me…

I was nothing but a dog left at their feet.

When they were done, Mom sneered at me:

“There are leftovers in the fridge. Why didn’t you eat those?”

“Trying to live in comfort at your age? Spoiled already?”

“Until the leftovers are gone, you’re not getting any of this food. Understand? Wasting is a sin.”

Satisfied, they burped and fed the scraps of meat and fish to the dog.

The cramps in my stomach made it impossible to eat. My hands still bled freely.

Mom forbade me to use medicine.

“Why waste it on a scratch like that?” she said.

The searing pain kept me awake all night.

Over and over, my mind screamed the same thought:

I needed to leave. I needed to live with Aunt Lisa.

If only…

I wasn’t their child.

If only…

I could be hers.

At least with Aunt Lisa, I’d get a hot meal. I’d be allowed to see a doctor.

From the other room, their snores rose—deep and satisfied, as if torturing me was their nightly entertainment.

That night, a dark thought coiled around me like a snake:

If my family no longer existed… maybe Aunt Lisa could finally take me away.

By dawn, that thought consumed me.

When I saw the rice I had washed over and over, the idea reached its peak.

I told myself:

Mom always taught me—save every penny, never waste anything.

Throwing away this whole pot of rice would be such a waste…