Mom, I'll Never Eat Ice Cream Again

The freezer at minus 22 degrees Fahrenheit left me shivering uncontrollably. It was so cold!

No matter how much I shouted, Mom and Dad refused to let me out.

With no other choice, I could only rub my hands desperately and jump around in the cramped space just to barely hang on. But eventually, I ran out of strength to keep jumping.

After my little brother, Owen Rivera, froze solid, Mom broke down on the spot. She screamed in anguish and finally remembered me, the one she blamed for everything.

"Are you dead or what? Why did you have to faint? Were you faking it? What good does killing my son do you?"

I shook my head frantically, trying to explain, but Mom wouldn't believe me. I turned to Dad for help, but he slapped me across the face.

Then, as if that wasn't enough, he threw me straight into the freezer.

"Your brother was cold and scared in there. Now you can experience what that feels like."

"Mom, Dad, I really didn't mean to. How could I want to hurt Owen? I loved him too!" I insisted.

I pounded on the door while pleading, but no one paid attention to me. I felt like my entire body was freezing solid.

Just as I reached my breaking point, my body suddenly floated upward. All the pain I felt vanished.

I thought I'd gained some kind of superpower that made me immune to the cold. But the next second, I saw my own corpse. It was a small figure with blood smeared across her features.

Frozen solid, I still maintained the posture of knocking on the door. In the last second of my life, I was still calling out to Mom and Dad for help.

But no one answered me. And just like that, I'd frozen to death.

Even after I died, I still worried about my parents. My soul immediately drifted toward them.

Mom was piling snacks in my brother's room, murmuring as she worked. "Owen, you said you wanted me to buy you snacks for your whole life. So why did you leave me?"

As I watched Mom cry, my heart twisted painfully. Owen was Mom's entire world. To conceive him, she'd taken countless injections to prevent miscarriage. The day he was born, Mom proudly showed him off to everyone in town, bragging that she finally had a son.

Dad was devastated by Owen's death too. His eyes were bloodshot as he smoked. But he was the head of the household, so no matter how grief-stricken he felt, he still remembered to comfort Mom.

"Honey, don't be like this. Our son is gone, but those of us who remain still need to keep living."

With that, he stood up and went to the kitchen to cook Mom some soup.

But Mom didn't eat. She just cried and said, "Right now, aside from that heartless Ivy, who could possibly have an appetite?"

She stared at the bowl of soup, then suddenly seemed to remember something and said viciously, "Don't you think Ivy did this on purpose? The more I think about it, the more something feels off.

"She fainted, she didn't die. So why couldn't she hear Owen calling for help?

"No, I need to go out there and interrogate her."

Dad gripped her firmly. "I'm not particularly fond of Ivy either, but she's still a child. She couldn't be that malicious, could she?"

"Don't underestimate her. That girl is sneaky. She definitely killed Owen. I never should have brought her here from the countryside.

"No—I never should have given birth to her at all."

Hearing such venomous curses, my soul suddenly ached sharply.

Was this really what they thought of me? That I was such a terrible child?

When they brought me back from Grandma's house, they clearly promised Grandma they'd treat me well.