Chapter 4

Lucas jerked his head up, his bloodshot eyes fixed on me.

He swung his arm violently.

"Get away from me!"

He shoved me to the ground. The back of my head hit the corner of the coffee table. It hurt so much.

The candy flew out of my hand, rolled into the corner, and landed in the puddle of my urine.

Dirty.

My candy was dirty.

When Derek came home, this was what he saw.

A silent son, and me, trembling behind the sofa.

He quietly cleaned up the mess on the floor, wiped away those shameful traces.

Then he sat down next to Lucas, his voice exhausted.

"Lucas, you can't treat your mother like this."

"She... she can't control herself."

Those words were like lighting a fuse.

Lucas shot to his feet, roaring with bloodshot eyes.

"Can't control herself? How much longer do I have to put up with this!"

"Do you have any idea what my life has been like? Since I was little, everyone laughed at me for being the crazy woman's son!"

"I applied for jobs, made it to the final round of interviews, and they cut me just because they found out about my mom!"

"Now even the only woman I love is leaving me! All because of her! Because of her!"

He pointed at me, his finger trembling with rage.

Slap!

A loud slap.

Derek's hand was shaking. His lips were shaking too.

"Get out!"

"You ungrateful bastard! That's the mother who saved your life!"

Lucas clutched his face, staring at his father in disbelief.

He let out a cold laugh, turned, and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The tremendous bang made me scream. I desperately crawled under the table, my mouth only able to repeat:

"No fighting... no fighting..."

That night, I didn't sleep.

I hugged my stuffed doll and sat in the darkness of the living room, waiting for Lucas to come home.

Late at night, the door opened.

Lucas stumbled in, reeking of alcohol.

He swayed to the sofa and collapsed onto it.

I hurried over, wanting to cover him with a blanket like Derek would.

He suddenly started to retch. Without thinking, I instinctively held out my hands.

Warm, sour-smelling vomit landed right in my palms.

I was afraid of dirtying the carpet. Lucas would be angry.

The sticky sensation made me uncomfortable, but I held it in and used my other sleeve to wipe his mouth.

Maybe my movements woke him.

Lucas opened his bleary eyes and saw me, saw my filthy hands.

The alcohol and all his grievances rushed to his head.

He suddenly broke down, crying like a child.

He grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard.

"Mom! You weren't like this before! You weren't!"

"You were a university professor! You were the most elegant, most brilliant woman! How did you become like this!"

He shook me until I was dizzy, but I couldn't understand his pain.

I only knew my baby was crying.

I smiled foolishly and clumsily tried to wipe his tears with my somewhat cleaner sleeve.

"Baby... don't cry..."

My voice, my smiling face, completely shattered his last bit of sanity.

Lucas's eyes went hollow. He shoved me away.

He mumbled to himself: "Megan doesn't want me anymore... It's all because of you... It's all your fault..."

He stared into my eyes, each word like a knife stabbing into my heart.

"If I'd known saving me would turn you into this, it would've been better to just let you die."

"If you were dead, I'd be free."

"Dad would be free too."

"Everyone would be free."

I froze.

My brain was like mush, but I understood.

Even though my mind was that of a three-year-old, I understood the words "dead" and "free."

So if I died, my baby would be free.

So if I died, my baby wouldn't cry anymore.