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Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die
Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die
Author: White Forest's King

Chapter 1

Author: White Forest's King
My phone dropped onto the icy ground, the screen shattering into pieces. However, I just ignored the blood I'd just coughed up and frantically plunged into the snow to retrieve the phone.

The only thought in my mind was that replacing the screen would cost me another 200 dollars I couldn't afford.

My fingers were all cut up from the broken glass shards on the screen as I shakily pressed the power button to turn it back on. The screen flashed green twice before going completely black.

In that moment, instant panic completely overwhelmed me, even more than the cold.

I was in deep trouble. The only way Mom and Dad could contact me was gone. And if they realized that they couldn't contact me, they would think that I ran away with my wages. They would then be extremely disappointed in me.

I couldn't let that happen. I had to find a way to call them.

I stumbled forward in the snow, heading toward the old pay phone at the corner of the street where there was still a yellow street light next to it. After stumbling into the booth, I dug out a single coin from the depths of my pocket.

It was a dollar coin. It was also my very last dollar.

I inserted the coin into the payphone, and it made a loud, clear clinking sound. Then, I shakily keyed in the phone number that I could memorize in my sleep.

The call connected.

I thought I heard the sound of people playing poker, accompanied by festive Christmas music playing softly in the background.

"All-in!"

"Call!"

"Yes, I won this time! Pay up!"

I could hear Mom's voice coming through the line so loudly that her voice became distorted in my ears.

"By the way, Sandra, why hasn't your daughter transferred the money to you yet? Doesn't she know what time it is already?" someone teased Mom.

Mom just huffed in disdain and said, "She's probably trying to see if she can keep the pitiful amount of money all for herself. Here, I'll bet you 500 bucks that she'll call me before midnight and cry about how hard she's having it on her own."

The following laughter felt like a slap right to my face.

I opened my mouth, but the words I wanted to say, "Mom, please save me," just died in my throat and turned into a mouthful of bloody froth.

So, my life or death was nothing more than just a bet at their poker table.

I silently put the phone back in its cradle.

It snowed even harder afterward. The nearby bench was covered in a thick layer of snow. I hastily dusted the snow off and lay down on the bench in a curled-up position.

My consciousness began to fade, and a strange heat rose within me. It was getting unusually warm for some reason.

I thought I saw Dad, standing up with his back straight as he smiled and waved at me while wearing a sharp suit. However, in my daze, I watched as the falling snowflakes transformed into burning IOU slips before my eyes, the ashes flying in the wind.

That was wonderful.

If the debt was all paid up, would that mean that I no longer had to work myself to the bone like a lifeless robot anymore?

When I regained my consciousness, I realized that the bone-chilling cold was already gone. Instead, I heard the sound of a crackling fire as the heat lapped toward me.

I looked down and saw that I was standing on a very soft and cozy woollen carpet. There was a giant chandelier on the ceiling with real crystals on it, a leather couch in the center of the room, and a small fire gently licking at the coal in the fireplace nearby.

Where was I?

"Ugh, disgusting. The snow made my leather shoes all wet."

A familiar voice suddenly appeared, and I looked up abruptly in surprise.

It was Dad. He was standing in the entryway, kicking off his soaked leather shoes to the housekeeper, whom I later learned was called Jasmine Marsh.

Mom was wearing a luxurious fur mink coat as she admired her reflection in the mirror with a brilliant diamond necklace around her neck.

"Alright, stop complaining. I got real lucky tonight and won a couple hundred thousand dollars earlier. That's more than enough to pay for ten pairs of your shoes."

I couldn't stop myself from smiling bitterly.

Was this what they meant every time they told me that they couldn't even afford to cook that day?

Just then, I heard the sound of claws against the polished marble floor. A tiny Pomeranian in designer pet clothing suddenly rushed out and ran straight toward the storeroom in the basement before tugging at something with all its strength.

The item was a gray scarf that had been clumsily knit with rough, scratchy string. I had made that scarf myself last winter, using the cheapest string on sale I could find, spending two weeks on it.

The pomeranian brought the gray scarf to Dad's feet and wagged its tail like it was asking to be petted and praised.

Dad looked down, and disgust immediately appeared on his face.

He hooked up the scarf with his toes like it was a dirty rag and tossed it straight into the fireplace, where the fire immediately ate it up with a loud crackle.

The cheap nylon thread burst into sparks and let out an acrid smell.

"Dirty trash like that should never appear at home again," he said, clapping his hands together.

Mom glanced at the ashes in the fireplace and hesitated.

"Greg, don't you think that we're being a little too harsh on Carol? It's Christmas Eve tonight, after all, and she just called earlier to say that she ran out of money…"

I felt my heart skip a beat. Was Mom softening up to me?

However, Dad interrupted her at once.

"Harsh? You're only going to spoil the kid if you keep caving like this! You don't know anything at all!"

He then went to the wine cabinet and poured himself a glass of red wine, swirling it slowly in his glass.

"How can we cultivate her resilience and toughness unless we push her to the brink?"

He took a sip of the red liquid, and a self-righteous look flashed in his eyes. "With how much she stands to inherit from us, how do you think she's going to manage things or help the family out in the future if she's nothing but a spoiled and pampered lady?"

Mom sighed and picked up her own glass.

"I'm just worried that she won't be able to hold out. After all, we've lied to her for years about the 5,000,000-dollar debt and forcing her to work three jobs a day. I can see that her health has been deteriorating."

"She's going to have to endure it all, whether she likes it or not! That's her fate!"

Dad set down his glass. His tone carried a hint of concern and disappointment. "Spare the rod and spoil the child. She will never be destined for greatness unless she suffers the trials and tribulations of life. We're only doing this for her own good.

"Look at her over the past few years! Can't you see how much more obedient and resilient she'd become after we lied to her about the debt?

"If she knew that she actually came from an extremely wealthy family, would she have worked as hard as she was right now? She would only turn out to be a useless piece of trash relying on us for survival and squandering all our money away later!

"She just needs to endure this for a couple more years like this until she's fully trained, obedient, and hardworking, before we finally tell her the truth."

Dad then broke into a condescending smile and said, "Then, we'll buy her a nice car and give her a welcome-back gift of a few hundred thousand dollars. She'll immediately think of us as the best parents in the world. She'll never forget our love and forever only sing praises of us to others too!"

He clinked glasses with Mom. The crisp sound of the glasses clinking echoed throughout the living room.

"Here, to our family's future success. Cheers!"

I crouched in front of the fireplace, staring at the cheap nylon scarf that had already been reduced to ashes.

The fire was already beginning to die down, leaving behind just a pile of black ash in its place.

Soon, it was midnight, and fireworks exploded in the sky outside the window, the multicolored lights penetrating through my transparent body as people on the streets cheered and wished each other a "Merry Christmas" and "Happy Holidays".

I just continued crouching in my corner, facing Mom and Dad who were still making plans about the future, and said lightly, "Merry Christmas."

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  • Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die   Chapter 8

    It didn't rain on the day of my burial. There was no bleak rain or gloomy clouds like in the movies.On the contrary, the sun was out, and the weather was ridiculously good. The sunlight was almost blinding, and the sky was so blue and cloudless that it looked like a flawless crystal.I wasn't buried in some desolate back of the hill. Instead, Dad had used all of his connections to get me buried at the prettiest spot in the city's most expensive private cemetery.The burial wasn't bleak or desolate. However, a long row of black Rolls-Royces and Bentleys blocked every inch of the way up the hill.Countless well-dressed political figures, business elites, and media reporters wielding their cameras surrounded my tombstone. It literally made my burial look as grand as an actual luxury product launch.Mom wore a custom-made black dress for mourning and a pair of large sunglasses to conceal her swollen red eyes. Dad stood upright, but his hair seemed to have gone gray almost instantan

  • Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die   Chapter 7

    They were made from an old sweater that I no longer wore. I had painstakingly sewn each layer together, and the stitches were crooked and uneven, making the fabric look ugly and bulky like two old rags.Dad was shocked.He slowly unfolded the bundle of fabric and realized that it was a pair of knee pads. I had stuffed them with layers and layers of cotton, and the pads felt soft and slightly prickly to the skin.A sweat-soaked note slipped out from inside the knee pads. My handwriting on it was small and neat."Dad, I made these knee pads for you with an old sweater. I've also added three layers of cotton inside."You told me last time that the coarse asphalt rubbed your knees raw the last time the creditors forced you to kneel on the road for hours. I can't pay off your debt completely, but this is the only thing that I can do for you."The next time they force you to your knees again, you can secretly wear these under your pants so the contact with the road won't hurt so much.

  • Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die   Chapter 6

    It was completely dark by the time Mom and Dad came back out of the police station after giving their statements.They were out on bail for now, thanks to their powerful team of lawyers, but nobody wanted to go home. That bare, empty 3000-square-foot villa of lies was now nothing more than a nightmare with its jaws gaping open.They brought my body to the city's most upscale funeral parlor. I went there along with them.This was the VIP funeral hall that was luxuriously decorated like a palace. The air conditioners were turned on full blast, and the air was filled with the expensive scent of lilies and chrysanthemums, masking the smell of decay.My body lay in the casket that was supposedly carved from a single piece of crystal.The tattered old coat I'd been wearing had been removed and replaced with a white haute couture gown adorned with crystals and rhinestones. The dress cost six figures, and Mom had had it directly delivered to me straight from the boutique.Mom then brough

  • Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die   Chapter 5

    "I think you would want her body to be intact, right?" Dr. Gordon asked.His words were like a sledgehammer against Dad's chest, completely shattering his fantasy of trying to rewrite my fate with money.Dad's arms fell limply to his side, the checks fluttering into the mud and getting crushed deep into the sludge by someone's foot.As it turned out, there were things that money couldn't buy after all, even if he owned an entire financial empire. For instance, there was no way to undo regret or get my life back.Soon, the sounds of police sirens filled the air. Several police officers then approached the scene, taking in the bizarre sight. There was a man in tattered clothing trying to slip checks into a private hospital's paramedic's clothes, a horribly frozen corpse in a curled-up position, and my ledger notes scattered on the ground—notes in which I asked Mom and Dad to sell my organs for money.The officers quickly secured the scene and began checking everybody's identificat

  • Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die   Chapter 4

    The air was deathly silent.Dad shakily reached out and touched my neck, but there was no warmth and no pulse there. He suddenly recoiled like he was electrocuted, jerking his hand back and collapsing onto the muddy ground.Mom picked up the red down jacket and rushed over, falling to her knees as she grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back up."Carol! Carolyn Swanson! Get up! Don't sleep on the ground anymore. It's too cold!"See this new coat? I bought it for you! Put it on!"She tried to stuff my arms into the coat, forcefully bending my elbows.There was a sudden loud crack that sounded like a dead tree branch being broken off, and Mom immediately froze, staring at my arm that had now been horribly twisted into a bizarre angle.She screamed."Carol! My daughter, my poor, poor daughter!"She pulled the red coat around my body like she'd gone mad. "Carol, don't scare me! Carolyn Swanson, stop scaring us! We won't test you anymore! We're rich! We never had a debt! The 5,000,00

  • Crushed by Debt, Forbidden to Die   Chapter 3

    The snowstorm finally stopped on Christmas morning. Sunlight fell on the roof of the villa, making everything appear blinding white.Jasmine brought out a steaming hot breakfast of warm soup and caviar on toast, setting it on the dining table.Mom barely ate half her toast when she set it down and said, "That should be enough, Greg. It's Christmas today. Let's not push Carol too hard."Dad finished the last of his soup and nodded. "We ignored her all night. It's now time."After a short pause like he was weighing his options, he said, "We'll give her a way out."Then, they began putting on their "disguise" again. Mom changed into a worn-out jacket and deliberately left her hair unbrushed to look more haggard. Meanwhile, Dad changed into a work jacket with worn-out cuffs and mud-caked canvas shoes.They stood in front of the mirror in the entryway for a few seconds, repeatedly practising their frowning and sighing."Let's go.""Let's go see that brat."The heater in the villa

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