The Fridge That Rot, The Promise That Rotted Too Chapter 08

The Fridge That Rot, The Promise That Rotted Too Chapter 08

Smack!

Dad suddenly raised his hand and slapped himself hard across the face.

“I’m a beast! I killed my own daughter!”

He slapped himself again and again, until blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

“Why didn’t I go back to check on her? If I had just asked one more question, she wouldn’t be

dead!”

The police rushed over to restrain him.

Mom sat collapsed on the floor, staring at the tiny, stiff figure on the screen. Then she began beating her own chest like a woman possessed.

“It was me… I killed her… I killed my own daughter with my own hands!”

“Why did I say those things? Why did I use a foster home to scare her?!”

She scrambled toward the kitchen on all fours and threw her arms around the already decomposing

body.

“Pearl, Mom was wrong! Mom won’t send you to a foster home! Mom will take you to eat strawberry cake!”

She grabbed the smashed cake on the floor and desperately tried to push it into my closed mouth.

“Eat it! Your favorite strawberry cake-eat it!”

Cream mixed with dust and vomit smeared across my face.

The police forcibly pulled Mom away from my body and zipped me into a body bag.

The moment the zipper closed, I felt my last connection to this world severed.

Serena had been shrinking in the corner the entire time. Not until the police carried the body bag past her did she seem to snap back to herself.

She lunged forward, grabbing a corner of the bag and clinging to it desperately.

“Pearl… don’t go… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Her voice was hoarse, tears and snot smeared across her face.

“I was wrong. I insisted on that graduation trip… I shouldn’t have thought you were a burden!”

“Come back, okay? I won’t go to college. I’ll stay home and be with you every day!”

She screamed and tried to unzip the bag.

The police pulled her away, but she flung herself forward again, her knees slamming against the tile floor, her whole body collapsing to the ground.

Dad walked over. He didn’t help Serena up.

He stood there, staring at his own hands for a long time. Then those hands curled into fists and slammed against his thighs.

“It was me.” His voice was dry. “She called for help three times, and I never believed her once.”

Serena looked up at him, her lips trembling, as if she wanted to speak.

Dad didn’t look at her. He turned to face the wall, pressed his forehead against it, his shoulders

shaking.

Serena slid down the wall to the floor, covered her face, and wailed.

“I’m sorry, Pearl… I really don’t know how this happened…”,

The funeral was small and cold.

No relatives. No friends.

The funeral home’s tiny chapel held only a few lonely wreaths.

My portrait was a photo of me laughing happily.

In the photo, I wore a pretty red dress, smiling like a carefree little princess.

Dad stood before the portrait, hunched over as if he’d aged ten years in a single night.

He kept wiping dust from the frame with a handkerchief, his movements gentle, as if he were touching my face.

“Pearl, Daddy bought you a new dress. Blue. Your favorite color.”

He mumbled to himself, tears dripping onto the altar.

Mom knelt in front of the cremation furnace, desperately gripping the iron door, refusing to let the staff push me inside.

You can’t burn her! My Pearl is afraid of pain!”

“She’s always been terrified of fire-she was terrified during the gas leak! Don’t burn her!”

Her voice had gone hoarse from crying, sounding like broken bellows.

The staff looked at Dad helplessly.

Dad walked over, pried Mom’s hands off the door, and dragged her aside.

“Let her go in peace. Don’t torture her anymore.”

The furnace door closed, and the fire roared to life.

Mom stared at the rising flames and let out one last heart-wrenching scream before her eyes rolled

back and she fainted.

I hovered in the air, watching the blazing fire, but I felt no warmth.

“Goodbye, Dad, Mom, Serena.”

I said it softly, though I knew they couldn’t hear me.