My daughter had failed her exams and was facing delayed graduation. School was about to start again, yet she was still addicted to her phone, playing until five in the morning.

In a fit of anger, I confiscated her phone.

I never expected her to suddenly explode in rage, grab a hammer, and smash it down on me.

“Give me back my phone! Give it back! Can’t you just leave me alone? You’re so annoying!”

Each word was punctuated by a blow, until I collapsed, blood splattering everywhere.

When I fainted, she tied up my hands and feet, taped my mouth shut, and sewed me into Jason Miller’s punching bag.

My limbs went numb, pain throbbed in the back of my head, while she hummed a tune and went on playing her game as if nothing had happened.

After six long hours, I finally heard Jason come home.

“Mom, I’m starving… Mom? Where are you?”

Jason came in with his backpack, just back from his tutoring class, and instinctively looked for me.

On the couch, Emily Miller was staring intently at her phone, fingers flying across the screen.

Hearing her brother’s call, she didn’t even look up, clicking her tongue impatiently.

“If you’re hungry, make instant noodles yourself! Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a team fight? Stop yelling, you’re so annoying!”

Jason pouted, dropped his backpack, and searched the small apartment. He realized I was nowhere to be found.

He boiled water skillfully and pulled out two cups of ramen.

“Sis, want me to make one for you too?”

“Mm.”

Emily gave a soft hum without raising her head.

Soon, the smell of ramen filled the air.

Only then did Emily pause her game, wolfing down the noodles while still glancing at her phone, afraid she’d miss something.

When she finished, she shoved the empty container onto the coffee table and went straight back to her room.

Jason ate slowly, then his eyes fell on the old punching bag in the corner—the one he always used to practice.

He stood, stretched his wrists and ankles, and walked over. Like greeting an old friend, he slapped the bag twice.

The sound thundered in my ears like an explosion.

My heart leapt to my throat.

No! He’s going to practice!

I tried desperately to move, to make some noise, but my body was numb and unresponsive.

Thud!

The first punch slammed into my abdomen.

Agonizing pain darkened my vision, nearly suffocating me. I instinctively tried to curl up, but I couldn’t move.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

A flurry of blows rained down on my chest, ribs, and shoulders…

Each strike brought searing pain; I felt as though my organs were shattering inside me.

I tried to open my mouth to scream, to beg for mercy, but the tape sealed it shut.

Pain and suffocation blurred my consciousness.

Finally, one especially heavy blow landed on my head.

The world went black.

I passed out.

Jason, drenched in sweat, was toweling off his forehead.

Suddenly, Emily cracked her door open.

She stepped out, froze when she saw him standing by the bag.

“You’ve been training… didn’t it feel… off somehow?”

Jason stopped mid-motion and turned back.

“Off? Not at all. I actually felt great today.”

Emily stared at the punching bag, which stood perfectly still, showing nothing unusual.

Her tense shoulders relaxed, and she let out a long sigh of relief.

“Nothing, then… Guess she really stormed out of the house in anger.”

“Huh? What’d you say, sis?”

Jason didn’t catch it.

“Nothing!”

Emily shook her head, her voice once again full of irritation.

“Go wash those stinky clothes of yours, they reek!”

Jason felt indignant, about to retort—

Bzzz, bzzz…

Suddenly, my phone rang loudly in the bedroom.

Jason glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already after two in the afternoon.

“Weird… Mom went out without her phone? It’s way past lunch and she’s still not back…”

He walked to Emily’s door, hesitated, then knocked.

“Sis? Sis! What do you think happened to Mom? Could something really have happened?”

From inside came Emily’s sharp, impatient shout.

“Shut up already! What could possibly happen?”

Seconds later, she yanked open the door, her face twisted with frustration at being interrupted.

“She probably got pissed this morning seeing me play on my phone. She stormed out to play the runaway act, that’s all! Who’s she trying to scare?”

“Forget her. Once she calms down, she’ll crawl back tonight.”

Before Jason could reply, she slammed the door shut again.

Left in the hallway, Jason opened his mouth, then said nothing.

I don’t know how much time passed before I woke again, ripped out of darkness by searing, unbearable pain.

Each breath tugged at broken ribs, my organs felt displaced and crushed.

No—I couldn’t die like this.

I licked furiously at the tape. The beating had loosened it, and at last, I could open my mouth!

Saved! I could finally call for help!

I tried to shout “Help!” with all my strength.

But the next instant, my heart sank to ice.

My teeth… were almost all gone.

During Jason’s punches, they must have been knocked out or shattered and swallowed.

Agonizing pain shot from my jaw straight to my skull. My body convulsed.

I tried to make a sound, even the faintest hiss of breath, but with my throat and mouth so damaged, only the weakest wheeze escaped.

Tears streamed down my face.

I couldn’t die like this—silently, unnoticed!

I summoned every last ounce of strength, straining my shoulders and knees to knock against the inside of the bag.

Once, twice…

Jason was sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the bag give the slightest shiver.

He froze, frowning, staring hard at it.

“Huh?”

He rubbed his eyes, checked the closed windows. No wind.

“Sis… the punching bag just… moved by itself?”

Emily’s door flew open again. She stormed out, glaring impatiently at the still bag.

By then, I had already drained the last of my strength and could no longer move.

“Moved? You blind? Which punching bag moves on its own?”

Emily shoved Jason’s head hard.

“You’re just bored out of your mind! Stop with the spooky crap. Do your own thing! If you interrupt my game again, I’ll beat you too!”

She slammed the door again.

Jason hunched his shoulders, rubbing his sore head, then squinted at the bag a few more seconds. It didn’t budge again.

“Guess I imagined it…”

Finally, he gave up and went back to his room to do homework.

By evening, David Miller came home.

He tossed his briefcase on the shoe rack, glanced at the quiet kitchen, and called out in his usual gruff tone.

“Why’s it so quiet? Didn’t your mom make dinner?”

Jason stepped out, worry flickering on his face.

“Dad, I think Mom ran away from home. She didn’t even take her phone—it’s been ringing nonstop in her room.”

“Ran away from home?”

David let out a laugh, shaking his head, utterly unconcerned.

“That temper of hers—always blowing up over nothing! Probably sulking again. Whatever. I’m starving. Got anything to eat?”

He walked straight to the fridge, found only leftovers.

In the end, he dug out a few beers and a vacuum pack of chicken wings from the pantry and sat down to eat.

The smell of food drew Emily out of her room. She sat at the table in silence, grabbing a wing.

Jason joined too.

David’s face darkened, watching his kids eat a pitiful dinner of cheap wings.

“Your mom’s getting worse! Sulking is one thing, but not cooking for her kids? What kind of mother does that? When she gets back, I’m gonna have words with her!”

His voice dripped with blame and resentment, chilling me further inside the bag.

I spun like a top every day for this family—cooking, cleaning, worrying about their health and comfort.

My devotion, invisible.

One missed meal, and I was suddenly the villain.

If he hadn’t ignored his family all these years, raised his daughter with nothing but harshness, how would Emily have become this cold and extreme?

They sat just a few feet from me, eating, complaining—without sparing the punching bag a single glance.

Soon, the wings and beers were gone.

David burped, glanced at the night outside.

“Fine, I’ll take a walk, look for your mom. What a nuisance.”

“Oh, and turn off the AC in the living room! No one’s home—it’s a waste of electricity!”

My heart clenched in terror.

The bag was airtight, a tiny sweltering cell. I had been breathing only thanks to faint trickles of cool air seeping in through the zipper.

If the AC was shut off, in this hot summer night, the heat would suffocate me.

Please—don’t turn it off! Please!

I screamed inside, praying someone would sense the danger.

At that moment, my phone rang again in the bedroom.

David clicked his tongue irritably, walked in, and picked it up.

“Margaret? Laura’s not around? It’s nothing, I just found this health supplement, good for the heart… Not too expensive, just two thousand dollars. I figured Laura and Daniel could split it, a thousand each.”

His face darkened immediately—her mother again, leeching money.

She had given their father’s entire inheritance to Daniel, yet every time she needed cash, it was Laura who had to pay.

David’s voice turned icy.

“Two thousand? You’ve got some nerve… I don’t have the money! Talk to her when she gets back. That’s it!”

He slammed the call down and tossed my phone back onto the bed like trash, muttering curses.

“Bloodsuckers, the lot of them! Do they think I’m an ATM?”

He abandoned the idea of going out to search, slamming the front door shut as though to vent all his anger on it.