Counting Down to the Day I'm Not Needed

Harold's POVThe first time I heard my parents discuss my death was on a Wednesday night.The study door wasn't shut properly, and I overheard the conversation inside as I was walking past with my pill bottle.My mom, Miranda Ruffo, sounded very calm, as if she were discussing a financial investment. "The insurance company confirmed it. Harry's life insurance pays out 750,000 dollars. If he dies, we're the beneficiaries."My dad, Shaun Irwin, flipped through some documents. "750,000 dollars? We only paid 12,000 dollars in premiums when we bought the policy. That's a pretty good return."Mom nodded. "And if he dies from an illness, there's no waiting period. The payout will be immediate. I've already had our lawyer confirm it.""Then let's skip the surgery," Dad said, putting down his pen. "The surgery costs 450,000 dollars, and there's only a 60 percent success rate. We'd be better off saving the money, waiting for the insurance payout, then walking away with a clean 750,000 doll

Harold's POVI started searching online."Can a minor write a will?""How can I keep my parents from collecting my life insurance payout?""If the beneficiary of a life insurance policy commits a crime, can they still collect the money?"The search results gave me one key piece of information—if the beneficiary intentionally caused the death of the insured, the insurance company would deny the claim.I stared at those words on the screen for a long time. Then, I started keeping a journal. It wasn't a regular journal, but evidence.I also planned to use my old tablet to make audio and video recordings. Every time they discussed my insurance policy, every time they cut my medication, and every time they updated the countdown on the whiteboard, I would document it all.…Three days later, the number on the whiteboard dropped to 44.Sure enough, Mom cut my dosage. I used to take three pills a day, but now, she was only giving me two."Mom, I'm missing a pill."Mom was peeling f

Harold's POVThe number on the whiteboard dropped to 31.My condition was getting worse every day. What used to be occasional chest tightness turned into me gasping for air after just a few steps.There was no heartache in Mom's eyes when she saw my pale face. There was only cold calculation."Only one month left," she said to Dad in the kitchen. "Everything on the insurance company's end is set. When the time comes, we'll just say his condition worsened, and he passed away from natural causes.""What about his medication?""It's already been reduced to just one pill a day. In another few days, I'll stop it completely.""Okay. Just make sure nobody else notices anything."I stood outside the kitchen door, the voice recorder quietly running in my pocket."Evidence_015_PlanToStopMedication".…That afternoon, I collapsed at school.When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My attending physician was Dr. Brynn Mariano, a woman in her forties.She looked through my medical chart

Harold's POVWhen Ben Flack arrived, he wasn't wearing a formal suit. He merely had on a plain jacket and a pair of glasses, looking more like a college professor than a prosecutor.He sat beside my hospital bed and listened as I told him everything from beginning to end. Then, he listened to the audio recordings.The first audio played. "The surgery costs 450,000 dollars, and there's only a 60 percent success rate. We'd be better off saving the money, waiting for the insurance payout, then walking away with a clean 750,000 dollars."Then the second. "It's already been reduced to just one pill a day. In another few days, I'll stop it completely."And the third. "Only one month left. When the time comes, we'll just say his condition worsened, and he passed away from natural causes."Ben took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. In his 15 years as a prosecutor, he'd handled homicides, corruption, and organized crime. But this was the first time he'd heard parents calmly plotting th

Harold's POV"You can't do this! I want to make a phone call! I want my lawyer!" Dad screamed at the top of his lungs as he thrashed around.Mom collapsed into a chair, trembling all over. "N-No… It wasn't my idea… He was the one who made me cut down on the medication… I was just following his orders…""Miranda Ruffo, you're coming with us too," Ben said coldly. "An accomplice is still guilty."As the officers grabbed her by the arms, Mom continued to scream, "I'm his mother! How could I possibly hurt him? I was doing it for his own good!"Out in the hallway, I sat in my wheelchair. Dr. Mariano pushed me forward as we watched the scene unfold from a distance.Mom caught sight of me. The fear in her eyes instantly turned to rage."It was you, wasn't it, Harold Irwin? You recorded us! You ungrateful little brat! We raised you for 12 years, and this is how you repay us?"I looked at her and said calmly, "Mom, you may have raised me for 12 years, but you only waited 47 days for me