Chapter 2

"Benjamin Werther!" Dad hissed through gritted teeth. "What is wrong with you? I told you to watch Tommy, and this is what you let him do?"

He stormed over, grabbed me by the collar, and yanked me harshly toward the coffee table.

A sharp pain shot through me as I felt my collar tighten around my neck, and I couldn't help but cry out.

But Dad remained impassive as he looked at me and said, "According to the rules, when Tommy does something wrong, you get double the punishment!"

A thick cane whistled through the air and lashed viciously across my back.

"Ah!" I screamed, my thin shirt offering no protection against the brutal force. A searing pain shot across my back instantly, as if my skin had been split open.

The lashes rained down mercilessly on me. From my arms and my back down to my thighs, no part of me was spared. I writhed on the floor in agony, instinctively covering my head with both hands. Cold sweat poured down my face as my vision blurred.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'll watch Tommy better from now on. Please stop! I'm begging you, please stop hitting me…" I pleaded, desperately hoping he would pat my shoulder approvingly like he used to when I taught Thomas how to eat. But that didn't happen.

My pleas didn't awaken any reason in Dad. Instead, they only sparked excitement in someone else.

Thomas stood off a little to the side. Not only was he not frightened, but he even jumped up excitedly, clapping his hands and giggling.

When Dad heard Thomas' laughter, he paused for a moment. He turned to look at Thomas, his gaze instantly softening.

He even took on a fawning tone and cooed, "It's alright, Tommy. There's nothing to be afraid of. Daddy's just teaching Ben a lesson for not watching you properly. See, he was naughty and made you break something!"

At that moment, the pain in my heart hurt far worse than the wounds on my body.

I looked at Dad's face, the one I knew so well yet barely recognized anymore, and screamed in despair, "Dad! Why won't you listen to reason? Thomas broke it deliberately! He's the naughty one! He just wanted to see me get punished!"

"Shut up!" Dad whipped around, his eyes cold and filled with disgust once more. "Tommy is only three! What does he know about doing things deliberately? Can he even tell right from wrong? You're the mean one!

"You won't teach your brother properly, you won't take responsibility for it, and now you dare to pin the blame on Tommy, who's only three years old? How did I end up with a piece of garbage like you?"

With that, Dad raised his foot and drove his hard-soled slipper straight into my stomach.

The force sent me sliding backward, and I slammed back against the hard wall with a dull thud. My insides felt like they'd been rearranged on impact. I opened my mouth wide, but no sound came out. I could only curl up in pain.

"Benny's flying! He's flying!" Thomas laughed even louder. He even ran over and nudged my face with the toe of his little leather shoe, saying with innocent glee, "Benny! Fly again! I want to see you fly again!"

Through the tears and sweat blurring my vision, I looked at that cherubic little face and felt nothing but cold dread.

He was a demon through and through. From the day he realized that whenever he misbehaved, I would be the one punished, he had become my worst nightmare. He would deliberately smear paint on the walls, tear up my homework, and knock over bowls of scalding soup.

And every time, he would watch me suffer with that same innocent look in his eyes. Then, he would burst into giggles when he heard my screams of agony.

As Dad looked at me lying motionless on the floor, the anger in him didn't seem to subside. But a glance at the clock on the wall told him that it was almost time for Thomas' birthday party.

So, he said coldly as he walked into the store room, "It's Tommy's birthday today. I don't have time to waste on you."

Moments later, he came back carrying a coil of nylon rope, the type usually used for tying up cardboard boxes.