The Fridge That Rot, The Promise That Rotted Too Chapter 07

The Fridge That Rot, The Promise That Rotted Too Chapter 07

“She didn’t dare go out,” Dad said, his voice hoarse.

He’d seen the scratch marks on the wall behind the door.

“We told her not to leave. We told her there were wolves outside. She believed us. She was in that much pain, and she still didn’t dare open the door.”

I drifted behind the door, looking at those shallow, desperate marks.

They had been left by me when the pain was too much to bear. My hand had already touched the door handle. But I’d let go.

Mom had said if I went outside, I’d be taken away and never see her again.

I didn’t want to never see her again.

Mom knelt on the floor, her forehead pressed against the cold tiles.

“Pearl… I’m so sorry…”

Dad didn’t move to comfort her. He sat in the corner, staring at the security camera app on his phone.

He opened the playback list, his finger hovering there, unable to press it.

He was afraid of what he would see. But he knew he had to watch it.

He owed Pearl at least that much-to witness with his own eyes how she had died.

His trembling finger finally opened the local SD card playback.

After the power went out, the camera had kept recording on its internal battery for four more days, all in black-and-white night vision.

“I want to see! I want to see what my daughter went through before she died!”

Serena shrank into the corner, covering her ears, too afraid to look.

The video began to play.

Day one: the lights suddenly went out.

The screen turned ghostly black and white.

On the screen, I fell off the stool, panicked, stumbling blindly in the dark.

I pressed the call button on my watch, crying, “Mom, it’s dark! The house is dark!”

The camera clearly picked up the voices on the other end.

“She’s doing it on purpose… she’s always like this, isn’t she?” That was Serena’s voice, full of suspicion.

“If you keep being this difficult, no strawberry cake for you!” That was Mom’s threat,

On the screen, I immediately covered my mouth, tears glistening in the dim light.

“Pearl is good. Pearl won’t make trouble. Mom, please don’t leave Pearl.”

Dad’s hands shook so hard the phone nearly fell. He stared at the screen, tears splashing onto it.

The video skipped to day three.

I was rolling on the floor with hunger, clutching my stomach as I crawled painfully toward the fridge.

I opened the door and gagged from the smell.

I grabbed a handful of moldy food and shoved it into my mouth, then spat it out, then shoved it back

“Pearl is hungry… Pearl eats, and then Mom will come home.”

I ate and cried at the same time, my voice so weak it was heartbreaking.

Then came the call to Dad.

“Dad, Pearl is hungry.”

“The microwave doesn’t work. The fridge smells bad…”

On the other end, Mom’s voice was sharp and piercing: “Are you trying to ruin your sister’s graduation trip?!”

“If you dare leave this house, I’ll never take you back!”

On the screen, I had already reached for the door handle-then pulled my hand back as if electrocuted.

I curled up in the corner, hopeless, like a stray dog abandoned by the world.

“Stop… don’t watch anymore…”

Mom lunged for the phone, but Dad shoved her away hard.

“Get away! You don’t have the right to look away!”

Dad’s eyes were bloodshot, like an enraged lion.

The video moved to day four-the last day of my life.

I lay in my own vomit, my body twitching from time to time.

I used the last of my strength to dial the phone.

“Mom… it hurts… bugs in my tummy…”

The camera captured the sound of waves, clinking glasses, and the sentence that pierced my

“If you call again, I’ll send you to a foster home and never look after you again!”

The busy tone of the disconnected call echoed through the empty house.

On the screen, I slowly reached for Mom’s coat and held it tightly to my chest.

I smiled weakly at the air.

“Mom, Pearl won’t call anymore. Pearl will be good.”

“Please don’t leave Pearl…”

Then my hand dropped completely. It never moved again.

The video ended.

soul.

The living room was dead silent, broken only by Dad’s ragged breathing and Mom’s choked sobs.