“Why is it so quiet? Your mom didn’t cook?”

Percy stepped out of his room, worry flickering across his face.

“Dad, I think Mom ran away from home. She didn’t even take her phone; it’s been ringing in the room this whole time.”

“Ran away from home?”

Chase scoffed, as though the words were too absurd to take seriously. He sneered and shook his head, disdain etched across his features.

“With that fiery temper, she explodes at the smallest thing! Must be another petty quarrel over nothing. Forget it, don’t waste your time with her! I’m starving, what’s there to eat?”

Saying that, he headed straight for the fridge, pulled it open and found nothing but a few cold leftovers.

Finally, he searched the cupboard, dragged out a few cans of beer and a vacuum-packed bag of marinated chicken feet and began to eat and drink by himself.

The smell of food drifted through the air, pulling my daughter from her room. She came quietly to the table, sat down and wordlessly picked up a chicken foot to gnaw on.

Percy came over to sit with them.

Chase’s expression darkened as he looked at the two children treating that low-quality marinated snack as dinner.

“Your mom is getting more and more unreasonable! Fine, let her throw a tantrum if she wants, but not cooking for her own kids? What kind of mother does that? Is there such a mother in this world? When she comes back, I need to talk to her!”

His voice carried only blame and complaints and my heart turned even colder.

Day after day, I spun like a top around this household, cooking, scrubbing, cleaning, worrying over each of their needs and health.

And yet, none of it was ever seen.

Just one missed meal and suddenly I became a sinner beyond forgiveness.

If not for his years of neglecting the family, for his indifference toward our daughter’s education, always meeting problems with violence, how could she have turned so cold, so extreme?

They ate and complained just a few steps away, but no one gave even a passing glance to the punching bag standing silently in the corner.

Soon, the chicken feet and beer were gone.

Chase let out a satisfied burp, then glanced at the darkness outside the window.

“Alright, I’ll head out for a while, see if I can find your mom. Such a nuisance she is!”

“Oh, and turn off the AC in the living room! She’s not even home, leaving it on is just a waste of electricity!”

My heart clenched violently.

The inside of the punching bag was sealed tight, like a suffocating, steaming cage.

Until now, I had been breathing only through the faint trickle of cool air seeping in from the zipper at the top.

If the air conditioning were turned off, on such a sweltering summer night, the heat inside would climb quickly. I would suffocate, roasted alive.

Help! Don’t turn off the AC! I beg you!

I screamed silently in my heart, praying someone would notice something was wrong.

Just then, my phone in the bedroom began to ring insistently again.

Chase clicked his tongue in annoyance, turned into the bedroom and picked it up.

“Chase, is Stella not there? It’s nothing urgent. I just saw a health supplement that they say is good for the heart. It’s not too expensive, only twenty thousand dollars. I thought Stella and Nathan could each pay ten thousand.”

Chase’s expression darkened at once. My mom was again trying to bleed us dry.

She had given all of my father’s inheritance to my younger brother Nathan. Yet, whenever money was needed, it was always me she expected to cover half.

Chase gave a bitter laugh.

“Twenty thousand? You’re bold. I don’t have that kind of money. Wait for her to come back and ask her yourself. That’s enough, I’m hanging up.”

He ended the call roughly, threw my phone back onto the bed like it was worthless and cursed under his breath.

“A family of leeches, the lot of them! Never-ending! Do they really think I’m a money-printing machine?”

He gave up completely on the idea of going out, stomped toward the front door and slammed it shut with all his strength, venting his fury on it.

He stalked back and forth in the living room, irritation rolling off him, when suddenly his eyes landed on the punching bag.

He hammered it with a flurry of punches, each blow far heavier than his son’s, making the bag tremble violently.

The violent shock surged through the canvas and slammed into my body.

A faint sound of bone breaking echoed in my ears and pain tore through every nerve.

My body no longer had the strength to cry out; my vision blurred, my mind drifting away.

I seemed to see my mother again, gently placing meat into Nathan’s bowl. But when her eyes flicked toward me, there was only impatience.

“You’re the older sister, you must be sensible. That tuition-free school is good enough. Graduate quickly and start supporting the family.”

“Do you hear me? Don’t even think about going to a university in another province. If you dare, I’ll break your legs…”

The admission letter from that prestigious university was clenched tightly in my hand before slipping silently into the trash.

After I graduated, I sent my entire first salary of $3,500 home, keeping only $500 for myself.

“You live in the dorm and the cafeteria is free. What do you need so much money for? Two hundred a month is enough…”

I lived so tightly that even when my shoes split, I didn’t dare buy new ones. When colleagues asked me to go shopping, I only smiled and said, “Next time,” then stayed behind to work overtime.

When my roommates split the bill for dinner, I found an excuse, “I already have plans tonight,” and wandered around a free park for two hours before heading back to the dorm.

At last, I endured until Nathan graduated and I was on the verge of getting married. I thought leaving my old family would be freedom.

But Chase was a man who only cared for work; everything else he ignored.

The baby’s cries, endless chores and the strain of work, like ropes, wound tighter and tighter around me.

I endured for years, until my daughter went off to university and my son moved up to high school.

But as her graduation approached, she failed class after class. Watching her sink deeper into mobile games, I grew restless with worry, yet she only angered me more.

Bella stood proud, full of her own reasoning.

“Everyone in class just leeches off their parents. No one studies, no one works; they just enjoy life. If you can’t give me what I want, why did you bring me into this world?”

“Why must you control me? You’re unhappy, so you want me to live the same way? Why should I do chores? Why can’t I fail classes? Why must I hand over money once I graduate?”

“Responsibility! You repeat it every day, don’t you ever get tired? If you’ve hit menopause, then go get treated!”

Her words struck me again and again, cutting deeper each time, until the last of my hope was gone.

No matter what, it was always me who stood at fault.

My giving was treated as nothing, while her demands were treated as law.

This life of mine, such a failure, far too much of a failure.

Silent tears slipped down, bitter and salty.

Maybe it would be far better to die like this.

At least I would no longer see my daughter’s cold stare, no longer hear my husband’s self-righteous scolding, no longer count that pitiful salary, no longer endure my mother’s endless demands, no longer imagine that even after my children married, I would still be burdened with grandchildren, treated like a nanny and despised.

I was tired. Exhausted.

The last spark of will to live was smothered by this endless weariness and despair.

I let my eyes drift shut, slowly, slowly.

The sounds of the world outside faded further and further away, then came a crash.

From beyond the room came the sound of my husband, raging, throwing something, likely a trash can or a chair overturned in anger.

His roar was heard.

"It’s already midnight and you’re still not back! Where the hell have you been? Always such a nuisance!"

In the living room, both Bella and Percy flinched at the sudden outburst. They exchanged a startled glance, neither daring to make a sound.

For a moment, silence weighed heavily in the air before Percy’s timid voice broke it, trembling with tears.

"Dad, Mom never stays out this late... Could something have really happened to her?"

Bella’s eyes flicked instinctively toward the sandbag in the corner. Her heart skipped and a cold shiver ran through her. She quickly turned away, forcing her tone to remain steady.

"What... what could have happened? Don’t let it trick you! She must have gone to a friend’s house to complain!"

After his furious shouting, Chase slammed the door shut and stormed off to bed.

Percy rubbed his hands nervously, then lowered his head and slipped quietly back into his room.

Bella lingered in the empty living room, the game in her hands, suddenly losing all its charm. A sudden shudder ran through her and she hurried back to her room, locking the door tight.

The world finally sank into complete silence.

I didn’t know how much time had passed.

A faint light suddenly slipped in from above.

The zipper of the sandbag was slowly undone from the outside.