I floated in front of Dad, waving frantically, trying to get his attention.

Just as his hand rested on the doorknob, the shrill sound of a phone ringing cut through the air. Dad's boss was calling.

When he answered the call, he went pale instantly. "What? The server crashed? Okay, okay! I'll be there right away!"

He hung up before grabbing his coat in a rush. "Honey, something urgent came up at work. I've got to go. I might not be back for a few days!"

"Hey, but what about Irene—"

Mom hadn't finished her sentence when Dad had already slammed the door and left.

I froze as well. He was so close. If only the call had come a second later, I would already have been found. Maybe then, I wouldn't have had to keep rotting like this.

That afternoon, Mom took Daniel out shopping, leaving my body at home. By evening, they came back with a bunch of premium seafood and gifts.

As soon as they stepped inside, they noticed that the smell had gotten even stronger.

Pinching her nose, Mom gagged a little. "Irene, are you trying to turn this house into a dump?"

She wouldn't even open my door to yell at me, as if one more glance toward my room would ruin her eyes. She grabbed a roll of wide tape, crouched down, and aggressively sealed the bottom of my door.

"If you like the stench so much, then you can stay in there and breathe it all you want! Just keep it away from us!"

After putting down the last strip of tape, she dusted off her hands in satisfaction. "That's better."

Then she went to the kitchen to cook the seafood.

I stared at the sealed door, feeling the last bit of hope in me get smothered with that strip of tape.

So to her, whether I lived or died mattered less than a seafood boil. She'd rather seal me in than check if I was dead inside.

Mom finally got what she wanted. I wouldn't bother her ever again.

On the third morning, though the winter sunlight filled the living room, it couldn't drive away the chill in the house.

The heating was cranked up to 79 degrees Fahrenheit, so it was fairly warm inside.

And because of the heat, the tape could no longer contain the thick, nauseating stench of decay.

Mom was trimming the fresh flowers she'd bought, but no matter how strong the fragrance was, it couldn't mask the odor.

With a snap, she cut the stem of a rose so hard that a thorn pierced her finger.

She finally couldn't take it anymore. In her mind, I was simply trying to gross her out and defy her by not showering, by relieving myself in my room, and by hiding dead rats in there.

"Irene, you really don't know when to stop!"

She stormed into the kitchen, grabbed a rolling pin, and stalked toward my room in a rage. "I'm going to beat you to death today, you filthy brat! Clearly, the shocks aren't enough! You need to feel real pain!"

I floated in front of her, staring at her twisted face as I desperately tried to block her path. "Don't go in, Mom! You can't! I'm hideous! I'm already rotting! It'll shock you!"

Even if she didn't love me, I still didn't want her to see me like that.

But after storming straight through me, she ripped the tape off the door, the sound harsh and grating.

She shoved the spare key into the lock and turned it before kicking the door open with a bang.

A thick, almost tangible stench of decay hit her in the face, as if she had just opened Pandora's box.

She staggered back from the smell, gagging. "Ugh! Irene, what on earth are you doing?"

She looked up to find me still in the same position from three days ago, slumped over my desk with my back to her, motionless.

She took it as me being defiant in silence, like I was being straight-up arrogant. "Hey, I'm talking to you! Can't you hear me? Are you still pretending to be dead?"

Enraged, she stormed over, raising the rolling pin high.

However, she didn't use it to hit me right away. She wanted to yank me up first to see my "stubborn" face. "Get up!"

She grabbed the back of my collar, her fingers brushing my skin as she did.

The next second, she froze.