Part 2The Wicked Father

Frank still couldn't open the door.

There were too many keys, and he had never been a patient man. He preferred the simplest, most brutal methods.

A thunderous pounding on the door began, accompanied by a stream of vile curses.

"You little bastard, think you're so smart after a few years of school? Mocking your old man for being uneducated? You wouldn't even exist if I hadn't given you life and provided for you..."

Is that so?

In my past life, after Grandma died and I was brought back home, I learned they had adopted an older brother two years my senior.

Frank gave Mia $200 a week for living expenses. His only requirement was that each meal have a mix of meat and vegetables, with different types of meat each time. She could spend any leftover money as she pleased.

But Mia often ran out of money before the week was up and had to ask Frank for more. This angered him greatly. To punish her, he would often withhold the allowance even after a week had passed, making her kneel at the front door before throwing money in her face.

A month later at the dinner table, Frank finally noticed me - but only because I reached for the meat dish in front of Jason.

"Eat, eat, eat. All you two do is ask for money as soon as you open your eyes. Like mother, like son."

Mia felt wronged and vented her anger by scolding me, echoing Frank's words. She didn't expect this would earn her Frank's approval for the first time.

I could sense Mom's excitement even with my head bowed. Her voice trembled slightly with disbelief. Greatly encouraged, she berated me using words I had never heard before, completely disregarding my reddening eyes.

It's okay. There's no rule that mothers have to love their children. It's enough that I love her.

My embarrassment delighted Jason. Jason laughed, and Frank laughed along with him.

That was the first time Frank praised Mia, the first time he acknowledged her.

Mia had finally found her place in this family.

To prevent me from becoming as useless as Mia in the future, Frank decided to start training 6-year-old me to earn money and support the family.

When the neighbor's kid became a child model, I tried too. Despite being dressed up like a prince, I was politely told I wasn't cute or clever enough.

When a friend's child won an essay contest, I entered too. After chewing through three pencils, all I got was a certificate saying "Keep trying!"

Frank beat Mia viciously. "The child you gave birth to is just like you - ugly and stupid."

In the end, I could only collect bottles and trash, spending my days begging on the streets with homeless people. I would return home filthy, digging crumpled dollar bills out of my shoes to proudly place in the collection box.

I had to pay for my meals - the family didn't support freeloaders, except for Jason.

Jason threw a tantrum at the dinner table. "It's so embarrassing! My classmates all make fun of me."

Because I had run into him on the street and tried to give him his favorite candy...

"Bring me the axe," came Frank's enraged voice from outside.

He was going to chop down the door. And after the door, who would be next?