Dad, I'm Letting You Go

Mom's harsh insults rang in my ears. "You bastard, I've treated you so well, yet you dared to run away."

She held a whip with an indifferent expression and struck Dad repeatedly as he hung from the tree.

Dad's body was covered in wounds, blood dripping onto the ground. He didn't even have the strength to scream.

Grandma stood nearby with a frown, her voice thick with contempt. "I told you long ago that this man couldn't be trusted. Using him to get pregnant was one thing, but when I told you to chain him so he wouldn't run away, you actually felt sorry for him!

"If that little brat hadn't tipped me off this time, he would have gotten away! If he escaped and brought others back here, everything we're doing would be exposed."

Dad struggled to lift his head. When he looked at me, his eyes held no trace of their former affection, only pure hatred. He cursed at me in a hoarse voice, "You little brat, I should have choked you to death back then!"

Mom grabbed a thick wooden stick and threatened to break Dad's legs so he could never run again.

I stopped chewing my bread, lifted my mud-streaked face, and shot Mom an innocent yet cruel smile from afar. "Mom, if Dad's legs are broken, there will be no one to serve you anymore."

My words swayed Mom. She cursed under her breath, threw the stick aside, and secured a metal chain around Dad's neck. "I'll break your legs after I find a new boy toy!"

After Mom left to manage the compound, I tiptoed over and helped Dad down from the tree. Then I brought some leftovers to him. "Dad, eat."

Dad turned his head away in disgust and slapped me with all his strength. He spat on my face and screamed hoarsely, "Get away from me, you brat! You're not my son!"

I froze, staring at Dad as he hurled his harshest curses at me, my chest tightening with pain.

Just then, Mom returned. When she heard the commotion, she kicked Dad off the bed. "You bastard! I've been far too easy on you!"

Her face twisted with rage as she punched and kicked Dad. By the time she was done, Dad was covered in bruises and barely recognizable.

She said, "I used to let you sleep on the bed out of pity, but from now on, you'll sleep on the floor."

Mom dragged Dad into the side room and chained him to a corner. She glanced back at me and said impatiently, "You little jerk, if that bastard dares to hit you again, tell me or your grandma right away."

After seeing me nod obediently, she swayed off toward the bedroom. She muttered, "When he grows up, I can sell him for around ten thousand dollars. I can't let him die."

At night, after Mom and Grandma fell asleep, I slipped into the side room to check on Dad. He lay on the floor, burning with fever and twitching occasionally.

Grandma had locked away all the medicine in the house. She said that neither Dad nor I had any right to use it.

All I could do was wipe Dad's body with cool water again and again. Once I finished, I sat beside him with my knees pulled to my chest, staring blankly ahead.

This was my first day back after being reborn.

In my past life, on this very same day, Dad had made full preparations to escape the compound with me in tow. But Grandma had brainwashed me from a young age to believe that family must stay together, so I had seen Dad's attempt to run as nothing but betrayal.