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Chapter 3

Author: Count to Three
I did not want to stay there anymore.

As I left the mansion, my older brother, Jaxon, came home. He was dressed head to toe in designer clothes. His skin was fair and flawless.

Then I caught my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window. That was a face roughened by years of hardship, skin cracked and weathered.

I was wearing a pair of faded jeans washed nearly white, cheap rubber shoes with the soles coming apart, and two empty sleeves where my arms used to be.

Yet we were both our parents’ sons.

“Why has not Landon come back?”

“He will come back once he figures things out.”

Mom took Jaxon by the arm and scolded him for racing cars and running wild outside. Then came the endless questions. Was he hurt? Was he hungry? Was he tired?

Every word felt like a thousand knives twisting in my chest.

I had never heard any of those words meant for me. What I heard most often was,

“Landon, our family is poor. You have to work hard. You have to make something of yourself. You need to make your parents proud. We cannot let other people look down on us.”

It was always the same thing.

I never dared complain and say I was tired. I made myself the obedient one. I never gave them a reason to worry.

Still, did that mean I did not deserve their concern?

“Now that Landon is coming back, you guys are not going to play favorites and let him drive all my cars, are you?”

Jaxon pouted unhappily.

Mom laughed and tapped him on the forehead with her fingernail.

“Landon is sensible. He would never fight you over anything. Once he inherits the company, he will take care of you just like Mom and Dad do. Stop overthinking everything.”

I let out a bitter laugh. Then I turned and walked away from the mansion.

The next day, Jaxon came to pick me up.

I thought that once he opened the door, they would cremate my body. Perhaps then I could finally be free. From that moment on, I would never have to suffer again.

However, he did not even try to open the door. He simply leaned against it and lit a cigarette.

His voice dripped with sarcasm, “We are handing you a fortune worth billions, and you are still unhappy? You will not even open the damn door. If you really have the guts to reject it, then come out and tell Mom and Dad to give the company to me.”

I lay silently on my hard mattress. Not far away, my body had already begun to decompose. Yellow fluid seeped from the corpse and slowly trickled beneath the door.

Jaxon stepped in it, and in a fit of rage, he slammed his foot into the door.

“Landon! Get your ass out here! You did this on purpose, did you not? What the hell is this filthy, stinking yellow liquid? It got all over my shoes. Do you have any idea how much these cost? They are limited edition. They cost five million dollars. You could not even make five million in ten years, and you still dare to ruin my shoes?”

The kick knocked a wooden beam loose from the doorframe. It came crashing down onto Jaxon’s head.

His vision went black. He reached up to cover the wound, but the moment he saw the blood, his face turned pale.

I watched as he called Mom and Dad.

Half an hour later, they arrived.

“Mom, Dad, I only told Landon to come outside, and he attacked me with that piece of wood!”

Mom immediately pulled Jaxon into her arms, clearly distressed over his injury, then angrily pounded on the door.

“Landon, Jaxon had no idea about this trial. He knew nothing about what we were doing. Why would you hurt him? If you are angry, take it out on us. Come out now and apologize to your brother.”

There was still no response from inside.

Dad’s expression darkened.

“Landon, if you keep acting like this, then everything your mother and I have done for you all these years, all the effort we put into raising you, all the hopes we had for you, will have been for nothing.

“You are being selfish and petty. When you inherit the company, you will have the responsibilities of countless people resting on your shoulders. Are you going to throw tantrums like this every time something does not go your way?”

He ran out of patience and started instructing his assistant to break the lock.

I quietly closed my eyes. Slowly, the noise outside faded again.

The smell of my rotting body began to spread. Jaxon started retching violently.

Mom was worried about him and decided to take him to the hospital first.

Not one of them recognized where the strange smell was coming from.

Dad even assumed it was another one of my childish attempts at rebellion.

“These tricks might work in the business world, but you do not use them against your own family. When we get back from the hospital, you had better stop this nonsense. Our patience has limits. No matter what happens, we are still your parents. We are still your family. We are doing all of this for your own good.”

I waited another two days in that tiny rental apartment.

Finally, the door opened.

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  • I Died Afraid My Broken Arm Burdened Them   Chapter 5

    It was as though someone had pressed the mute button on the entire world.The disgust and fury on Mom’s face vanished in an instant. She simply stood there, staring at me without moving.After a long moment, her lips parted. “What… is that?”Cyrus’s face went pale. He hurriedly tried to shield me from her view.“Nothing. I did not steal anything. I am sorry. I… I need to go.”Mom grabbed his wrist. With all her strength, she shoved him aside, then dropped to her knees and tremblingly tore open the bag.My face was grotesque, and my lips had turned black. The stench of death clung to every inch of my body.Yet she did not pull away. She reached out hesitantly, almost fearfully, and touched my face.The cold, unmistakably real sensation made her collapse backward. A scream tore from her throat.Dad turned around. The moment he saw me, he froze for a moment. All the color drained from his face.“Landon?”Then he immediately shook his head.“No. That is impossible. Landon is st

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  • I Died Afraid My Broken Arm Burdened Them   Chapter 3

    I did not want to stay there anymore.As I left the mansion, my older brother, Jaxon, came home. He was dressed head to toe in designer clothes. His skin was fair and flawless.Then I caught my reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window. That was a face roughened by years of hardship, skin cracked and weathered.I was wearing a pair of faded jeans washed nearly white, cheap rubber shoes with the soles coming apart, and two empty sleeves where my arms used to be.Yet we were both our parents’ sons.“Why has not Landon come back?”“He will come back once he figures things out.”Mom took Jaxon by the arm and scolded him for racing cars and running wild outside. Then came the endless questions. Was he hurt? Was he hungry? Was he tired?Every word felt like a thousand knives twisting in my chest.I had never heard any of those words meant for me. What I heard most often was,“Landon, our family is poor. You have to work hard. You have to make something of yourself. You need to make

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