After My Death, My Biased Parents Fell Apart

From childhood, I faced unfair treatment. My dad and mom kept my little brother Isaac Simpson close but left me in the countryside.

When they finally brought me to live with them, they distanced themselves to spare Isaac's feelings.

Isaac accused me of rudeness and claimed I hired thugs to attack him. My parents believed him without question.

They sent me to a strict boarding school.

With their silent approval and Isaac's encouragement, the school's teachers subjected me to cruel discipline.

In the end, as they wished, I became obedient.

I also died.

1

I watched as they dumped my body in the remote mountains, the city's most isolated spot.

Surprisingly, my consciousness lingered.

Three days had passed since my death.

I wandered aimlessly and found myself back at the Simpson house.

By chance, everyone was home.

They had taken Isaac to the beach for his birthday, leaving me behind.

They chatted excitedly about the cruise's sights, scenes I never saw in my lifetime.

I stood silently beside them, listening as my big sister Elin Simpson complained. "Is Lachlan still not back? I'm starving. I thought we'd eat as soon as we got home."

My mom frowned and called my name. No one answered. "He's not here again? Didn't his school break up two days ago? I don't know who he takes after. Our whole family is polite, except for this useless country boy.

"He's probably out with those troublemakers," my dad said casually from the sofa. "Maybe he's sulking because Elin didn't pick him up when he called last time."

My mom banged the souvenirs around, clearly annoyed. "Haven't we done enough for him? We brought him from the countryside, but what does he do? Isaac is so young, his little brother. Lachlan should care for him. Isaac tries to get along, but Lachlan brought his thug friends to hurt him and then lied, saying Isaac did it himself. I wish I never had this son."

I trembled, staring at my mom.

Elin stepped in to calm things. "Let's deal with Lachlan when he's back. If he doesn't shape up, he can stay at that boarding school a few more months."

My mom, still angry, spoke harshly. "I hope that school gives me back a polite, obedient son. With his attitude, I'm ashamed to take him anywhere."

I saw my mom's deep disappointment. I lowered my eyes, recalling my time in the countryside.

I fell gravely ill once, and the county hospital couldn't help.

Fearing I'd disturb my parents' work, I endured without calling them.

Later, they heard about my condition and promised to bring me to the city for treatment.

I waited eagerly, even as snow fell, but they never came.

Miraculously, I survived.

When I finally joined them in the city, I learned they planned to fetch me but Isaac wanted to see snow. Unable to refuse him, they took him north.

They enjoyed themselves and forgot their sick son waiting in the countryside.

If they didn't care about me, why did they have me?

2

Dinner time arrived. The table held seafood from the beach, its aroma filling the air.

My mom lovingly peeled shrimp for Isaac. Even my dad smiled and asked if it tasted good.

Elin glanced at her watch, her tone sharp. "Lachlan's staying out all night again. So undisciplined. Isaac would never do this."

My mom raised an eyebrow, her voice bitter. "When doesn't he do this? We told him to behave after moving here, but he won't listen. He brought all his bad habits from the countryside."

Elin sighed. "If we'd brought him here sooner, he might not have picked up these habits."

My mom dismissed the idea. "He was already spoiled in the countryside. Bringing him earlier wouldn't have helped. It might have meant more trouble for Isaac. Now we can only hope that school fixes him."

My dad coughed, sounding impatient. "Why talk about him? It might rub off on Isaac. Let's eat."

I couldn't listen anymore. I drifted, lost, to the storage room.

Since Isaac disliked me, this room, farthest from his, became mine.

I saw the unfamiliar setup. Nothing belonged to me. Then I remembered my mom had turned it into Isaac's dressing room.

My mom had said with disgust. "Your dad and I think we've treated you fairly. Isaac is your little brother. His health is poor. Even if you don't care for him, did you have to get people to hurt him? I know living here isn't ideal, but Isaac hasn't adjusted to having a brother. Can't you give him some space? After what you did to Isaac, I'm so disappointed. If anything happens to him, you'll regret it."

She ordered workers to clear the storage room and transform it into a space for Isaac's clothes and shoes.

No one believed me. No one listened to my denials. I didn't even know any thugs.

Seeing walls lined with Isaac's designer clothes and shoes, I realized this house no longer had a place for me.

The world felt vast, yet I had nowhere to go.

3

I drifted to the kitchen.

It was spacious. Happy crouched in a corner, holding a bowl and eating.

Happy was an abandoned baby I rescued.

His family left him in the mountains because of his intellectual disability. I found him while gathering herbs.

I named him Happy, hoping someone like me could find joy every day.

During my endless wait for my parents in the countryside, Happy was my only companion. We kept each other warm, passing the long, lonely days.

He understood Christmas and would wait by the river in freezing weather to catch fish.

I once said fish at Christmas brought good luck for the year.

When my parents brought me to the city, I took Happy along.

Isaac found him bothersome and never let him eat at the table. Happy ate leftovers in the kitchen with a small bowl, sleeping there or in the outdoor gazebo.

Though simple, he was gentle. Even when hungry, he never stole food. Still, Isaac disliked him.

Influenced by Isaac, others treated Happy poorly too.

After Happy finished eating, I often came to talk, though he didn't fully understand. He sensed my mood and would clumsily pat my back with his small hands.

I crouched beside him, watching him stare at the door, waiting for me.

But I could never speak to him again.

It had been days since he saw me. Happy must have missed me.

He sat in the kitchen corner, sobbing quietly at first, then louder, until the Simpsons noticed.

Hearing the noise, Happy stumbled to the kitchen door. Seeing Elin, he mumbled. "Lachlan... Lachlan..."

My dad frowned and scolded Happy to be quiet. "I'll lock him in that outside room soon."

After my dad left, Elin grabbed Happy's clothes to drag him away.

Isaac raised a smile. "Elin, you're tired from the trip. Let me handle this. Go wash up and get some rest."

Elin eventually left.

I watched her figure disappear. Isaac put on gloves and dragged Happy to the outside room with disgust.

A loud thud echoed as Isaac threw Happy to the ground.

Happy clutched his head, wincing in pain, but still looked at Isaac with innocent, confused eyes. "Brother..."

"I'm not the brother of a little beggar like you." Isaac grabbed Happy's unkept hair. The pain made Happy flail, but he avoided touching Isaac.

Isaac sneered and slapped Happy's face.

Happy cried out. Isaac quickly stuffed a rag in Happy's mouth, muffling his cries.

Then, like tossing trash, he threw Happy to the ground, forcing him into a corner.

Isaac crouched before Happy, his face twisted in a cruel grin, slapping him repeatedly. "You're a little beggar, and Lachlan's a big beggar. You two match perfectly. Lachlan's a nobody. Him, my brother? He made my classmates mock me. That loser should've died in the countryside. Disgusting."

Happy's cheeks swelled red, the rag in his mouth stained with blood.

Isaac smiled at the battered Happy curled in the corner, then kicked his back hard before leaving.

I reached out, trembling, to touch Happy's head, but my hand passed through.

4

Isaac sent Happy away.

He had crawled under Elin's skirt, startling her.

But Isaac had stolen the stuffed toy I gave Happy and cruelly tossed it at Elin's feet.

In the countryside, I handmade that toy for Happy, and he treasured it. Isaac, in a prank, flicked it to Elin's feet.

Happy, not understanding, didn't know better. He ran fast, lunging to retrieve the toy, startling Elin into a scream.

Isaac grabbed Happy by the neck and threw him aside.

I instinctively tried to cushion Happy's fall, but he passed through me, hitting the ground hard.

Still bruised from Isaac's earlier beating, Happy grimaced in pain.

Elin pulled out her phone, angrily dialing my number, but it was off.

Isaac laughed, his tone mocking yet feigning regret. "Who knows if Happy learned this from Lachlan? So young, already peeking under girls' skirts. He's simple-minded, yet does this. Imagine what Lachlan's usually like."

Elin stepped back in disgust, keeping her distance from Happy.

Happy stood confused, not understanding their words.

"Lachlan's ridiculous, bringing a simpleton like this home," Elin said, frowning.

A glint flashed in Isaac's eyes. "Why don't we send Happy away? With his behavior, he might sneak into your room one day."

Elin hesitated.

He persuaded her, "Plenty of people can't have kids. They'd treat Happy well. Better than staying with Lachlan and learning bad habits."

Elin finally agreed with Isaac.

After Elin left, Isaac kicked Happy to the ground, his eyes full of amusement. "Don't worry, little simpleton. I'll find you a nice place. A beggar belongs in a beggar's den."

My only connection to the Simpsons was severed by Isaac.

5

Ten days after my death, the Simpsons still hadn't looked for me.

They assumed I ran away to avoid punishment.

Even my mom grew more disgusted with me. "I'd rather not have this son! He's an embarrassment!"

Then my mom received a video from the school's dean.

I crawled on all fours in a humiliating pose, the camera following me for a few steps. Then I gave a fawning smile to the camera, stuck out my tongue, and barked loudly like a dog.

My family couldn't see how my clothes hung loosely on me, too thin to fill even the smallest size.

They didn't see the electric prod always in the frame.

They only saw the Simpson's eldest son rubbing against someone's leg like a dog.

"Turn it off!" my dad roared, his face red with anger, telling my mom to stop the shameful video.

My mom closed the video and played the dean's voice message.

That voice haunted me day and night at the boarding school, always paired with terrifying punishments.

They whipped me with chili-soaked straps or shocked me with the prod until I convulsed.

They just laughed, saying this rich boy was less free than their dogs.

"Mrs. Simpson, Lachlan's behavior is truly disappointing. To avoid punishment, he stoops to this. Shameful! I suggest extending his 'education' to make him obedient and polite."

My dad smashed a fruit bowl to the ground, furious. "He disgusts me! What sin did I commit to have such a shameless son?"

My thoughts drifted to those dark days.

Everyone controlled my fate, treating me like a dog for their amusement, free to beat and mock.

Because the Simpsons never cared about me.

Until I fought back.

They broke my limbs, shattered my spine, and kicked me against the wall.

Blood filled my vision, probably from my cracked skull.

I vaguely thought so.

When they saw they'd killed me, they fled.

Shaking, I pulled out my phone and called Elin.

"I'm coming to get you." Even her half-hearted words gave me hope, and I waited for her to save me.

But my blood ran dry, and like that snowy day, she lied to me, just like my parents.

6

After watching the humiliating video, my mom frantically called my phone, but no one answered.

My dad, enraged, nearly smashed his phone and ordered Elin and my mom not to open the door for me when I returned. "I don't have a son like him! He takes our kindness for granted. Send him back to the countryside! Let him ruin his own life!"

My mom, annoyed, added. "Get someone to throw out his trash later. I can't stand looking at it."

I stood before her, sadly watching them.

Why did they think forcing me to that place was for my good? Couldn't they see my scars or my skeletal frame?

Did they only see Isaac?

Suddenly, my dad's phone rang. Seeing it was the police, his expression shifted.

My mom said irritably. "Lachlan must've caused trouble outside! Now he wants us. He's nothing like Isaac."

My dad snorted and answered.

"Hello, are you Lachlan's family? This is..."

My dad cut them off, impatient. "We're not. You've got the wrong people. I don't have a shameful son like Lachlan! If he's in trouble, let him rot in there and reform. Don't call us again. We're done with him. Tell him when he's out, don't come back to the Simpsons. Go back to the countryside and be a thug forever! Oh, and make sure he knows not to cling to us. The Simpsons have done more than enough for him!"

Before my dad hung up, the caller quickly spoke. "This is the police. A few days ago, we received a report of a male body found in the mountains. It's been identified as Lachlan Simpson."