Part 2A Son’s Demands

He didn’t explain the posts online or even ask about his father’s injury. All he did was blame me for not giving him money.

As I looked at the young man before me who felt like a stranger, my heart turned cold.

“Do you still have a conscience?”

I was furious and lifted a hand to slap him.

Yet, my son said with a smirk, “Isn’t this what you two should do as parents? Is that all you’ve got? The fact that so many people support me shows that I’m right.”

With that, he turned to leave. I was so overwhelmed with fury I couldn’t speak, and I blacked out.

Within a short week, two in my family got hospitalized. Running back and forth between my home and the hospital had drained me of my energy.

Even my parents tried comforting me, telling me that my son was just a kid and that there was no need for me to take it too seriously.

What’s more, the cyber bullying from the previous incident had stopped as well.

I suppressed the anger boiling in me and held my tongue from raking up the past with my son. Instead, I focused on taking care of my husband till he was discharged from the hospital.

To my chagrin, we came home from the hospital only to find my house turned upside down.

It was as though a burglar had ransacked the house.

I was frightened by the scene before me and was about to call the police when a neighbor stopped me.

“Why are you calling the police? Your son was the one behind this. He said he needed to sell things at the flea market for money. Don’t you know about it?”

My neighbor looked at me in surprise. He had long heard about my situation at home and looked uncertain whether to pity me or not.

When I heard that my son was the one who did this, I couldn’t help but curse him in my heart.

He was mad!

He didn’t even bother visiting his father who was hospitalized for so many days. To make things worse, he was now trying to sell our belongings.

I felt faint with anger. Rummaging through the mess in the house, I realized that all of my jewelry and even my camera were gone.

Anxiety set deeper and deeper in my heart when I realized that the memento my grandmother left me before she died, a pearl necklace, was gone too.

I searched the entire house but couldn’t find it anywhere.

I immediately grabbed my bag and ran to the flea market near my house.

“Shawn Lane!” I yelled in a fit of rage.

My son jumped up in fright when he heard my voice, but rolled his eyes at the next moment.

He appeared to still be mad at me.

That fool!

I saw him handing my pearl necklace to a woman in front of him as he accepted 500 dollars from her.

“Stop! Give it back to me!”

I rushed forward and snatched my necklace back. The lady jumped back in fright, but shoved me right after recovering from her initial shock.

“Are you crazy? I bought this with my own money!”

My son turned to look away, looking guilty.

The lady refused to back down. She could clearly tell the value of the necklace and that getting it at 500 dollars was a huge steal. She would never let such a good deal go just like this.

“What’s yours is mine! So what if I sell it?” My son started yelling back at me, insisting on selling the necklace.

The lady sensed that something was wrong and called her husband over.

The man aggressively snatched the necklace from me, scolding me for being dishonest and refusing to let me take the necklace back since it was already sold to his wife.

My son stood idly and watched. He had no intention of stepping in to help me. I refused to let go of the necklace and ended up getting dragged a few feet away by the man.

Everyone around me could hear my cries, to which my son turned a blind eye. Eventually, I had no choice but to let go and watch them take my necklace away.

I looked at the scratches on my elbows and knees, and felt a heartache from deep within.