Our Lives for Mom's First Love

On the eve of the SAT, the authorities notify me that I need to claim the body of my father, who has died tragically in prison.

My mother comes to me and says she wants my father to take the blame for her first love, Joe Anderson, for a second time.

"Where's your dad? Joe accidentally caused a patient's death during surgery. Ask Andrew to go to prison for him again. Consider these two prison terms as compensation for that slap he gave Joe last time.

"After this, I'll return to the family and stay with you and your father."

I don't even look up as I mumble absentmindedly, "Dad is dead."

Mom lets out a scornful laugh and locks me inside a sauna room. Clenching her jaw, she presses the button on the remote control in her hand, turning the temperature up rapidly.

Then, she sends an angry message to my dad to threaten him.

She writes, "Andrew Miller, how dare you teach our son to lie to me? I'd like to see what kind of stunt you're trying to pull! If you don't want Chester to get hurt, show yourself right now!"

My skin turns bright red due to the burst capillaries. I pound desperately on the door, trying to explain and beg for help.

But Mom is busy comforting the frightened Joe and pays no attention to me at all.

As my body becomes severely dehydrated, I let out a bitter laugh.

I sneer inwardly, "Mom, Dad and I are making it up to your first love with our lives. Is that enough?"

Every time my hands slammed against the iron door, another layer of skin would get torn away. Blood kept beading from my fingers, and my throat burned like it was on fire.

Still, I forced myself to hold on to that last bit of strength, repeatedly begging for Mom to hear me. "Dad really died in prison! You tortured him to death—are you going to do the same to me, too?"

My tears wouldn't stop falling. The extreme dehydration had left my throat so dry that it felt like it was bleeding whenever I spoke.

Mom ignored my pleading and nodded angrily.

She stared at Dad's chat window, gritting her teeth as she shouted, "Very well, Andrew! Look at what you've turned our son into! It's one thing that you made him lie and convince me you were dead, but how could you make him say things cursing himself?"

Her phone was tossed aside. My cry for help only fueled her anger. She turned toward the sauna room and yelled impatiently, "Enough with the act! The heating system inside is broken! You can't even adjust the temperature!

"You learned all these tricks from your father, didn't you? I'm only doing this to force him to show himself!"

Mom was consumed by rage. She screamed until her face turned purple.

At that moment, Joe Anderson timidly stepped forward. He gently patted Mom's back, soothing her.

"Forget it, Winona. Don't let Andrew go to prison for me. After what happened last time, he must still hate me. I don't want to come between you two."

Mom immediately calmed down. She turned around and patted his back, comforting him. "Hey, it's not your fault. Andrew was just being suspicious and thinking the worst about our relationship.

"You two are different. He's already served time once. There's nothing worse he can't handle. And besides, I already made arrangements for him inside. He's actually living pretty comfortably in there."

Almost every inch of my skin was marred with burns. Breathing began to feel like a challenge.

When I heard what Mom said, I laughed until tears rolled down my face. Was the so-called arrangement she made meant to have Dad beaten to death?

When I went to collect his body, it was covered in fresh wounds and old scars, all mixed with dried blood. Several of his bones had been broken and pulled out.

Even when he passed, he died with his eyes wide open. Now, he had to suffer Mom's insults after death.

The thought of Dad made my choked sobs grow louder.

Mom clicked her tongue impatiently. "I must've been too nice to them. Andrew refuses to show up just because he's throwing a tantrum, while Chester actively goes against me. The sauna room is just dark. There's no reason for him to cry like that."

I couldn't believe her words. Did she just say she had been "too nice" to us?

Was that why she made Dad take the blame and go to prison for her first love? Was that why she left me alone in that barren villa and ignored me for three long years?

It was like she had completely forgotten she had a son. She never sent me any money and never made herself reachable. I had to earn all my tuition and living expenses by working as a food delivery guy every night after class.

Every day, I counted the days, forcing myself to keep going. I kept telling myself that everything would get better once Dad was out of the slammer and once I got into college.

Yet, after all that waiting, all I got was Dad's miserable passing and Mom choosing her first love yet again, even if it meant sacrificing my life.