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หน้าหลัก / Emotional Realism / The Winter That Buried Our Youth / Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

ผู้เขียน: Windborne Snow
"Julian hasn't moved for three hours! Even the toughest man would freeze solid after staying still in this freezing weather for three hours. Something's definitely happened to him!" Mom cried.

Dad snatched the phone back without even looking at it. "Bullshit! He's resting to conserve his energy. What the hell do you know about wilderness survival?

"This is called tactical adjustment. You think everyone's like you, complaining about being tired after taking two steps?"

Mom shook her head, her voice trembling beyond control. "No, Julian told me if he ever stopped in the snow for more than half an hour, it'd mean he couldn't go any further. He made me promise to come for him. That was our agreement."

Dad cut her off impatiently. "Agreement? That's an excuse for the weak! I knew it—that punk's been contacting you behind my back. Fine, so you're working together now to trick me into going up there to get him? Not a chance!"

Mom fell to her knees, clutching Dad's legs. "Trevor, this is a life we're talking about! I'm begging you. I'll do anything you want— just go check on him or call search and rescue. Please, I'm begging you!"

Dad kicked Mom hard in the chest, sending her sprawling to the floor.

"Get off me! Stop making a fool of yourself here! It's Christmas Eve, for god's sake. Everyone's supposed to be happy, and you have to come and ruin it! Search and rescue? Are you trying to humiliate me even more?

"If I call them, how's that gonna look? The whole world will know I couldn't even toughen up my own son!"

Floating in mid-air, I watched Dad kick Mom down, the blood from her hands staining the carpet red.

I wanted to rush over and hug her, to tell her, "Mom, stop begging. It's useless. Dad never cared about my life. He only cared about his pride and his authority."

I reached out to wipe the tears from Mom's face, but my hand passed right through her cheek. That feeling of powerlessness was more agonizing than death itself.

I was sorry to Mom. It was all my fault for being so useless. I never should've listened to Dad. I shouldn't have agreed to come to this godforsaken place just for some pathetic allowance or for him to actually look at me like I mattered.

I should've listened to Mom and escaped from Dad long ago, even if it meant working odd jobs or begging on the streets.

But it was all too late now.

"The police! I'm going to call the police!"

Mom picked herself up off the floor, trembling as she fumbled in her soaked pocket for her phone. Her fingers shook uncontrollably from the cold and fear, and it took her several tries just to unlock it.

"Don't you dare!" Dad strode over in two steps, snatching the phone from Mom's hand. He then hurled it viciously against the corner of the wall.

The phone's screen shattered into pieces, and the battery even popped out.

Dad jabbed his finger at Mom's face and yelled, "Why are you calling the police? Since when do the police have the right to interfere with a father disciplining his son?

"This is a family matter! Are you trying to embarrass me in front of all my relatives? Or are you trying to send me to jail? How can you be so vile?"

Screaming and crying, Mom lunged toward the corner, desperately trying to piece her phone back together. But the scattered components were already beyond saving.

"You're the vile one! That's your own son we're talking about!"

Uncle Arnold frowned and put down his fork. "Trevor, maybe you should give Julian a call. Three hours without moving really is a bit—"

Dad shot him a displeased glare. "Arnold, don't tell me you're falling for that sentimental nonsense too? Julian's just lazy and waiting for me to go get him.

"If I cave now, all the hardship from before will have been for nothing. This is called psychological warfare, understand?"

Just then, a crisp notification sound suddenly came from Dad's phone on the table. It was the sound of the GPS location updating.

Everyone's eyes instantly locked onto the phone.

Dad picked it up and glanced at the screen. A grin immediately spread across his face, the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes crinkling deeply.

"He moved! He moved!" He held the phone up high, laughing. "See that? He climbed up more than 100 yards!"
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  • The Winter That Buried Our Youth   Chapter 10

    Dad, who once prided himself on being the toughest guy and could run three miles, was now forever reduced to a man in a wheelchair.In the courtroom, he sat in his wheelchair, his empty pant legs fluttering with the breeze from the air conditioning.Mom stood across from him as the plaintiff. She had lost a lot of weight, but her gaze was resolute."The defendant, Mr. Trevor Bowen, is hereby sentenced to seven years in prison for negligent homicide."The judge's gavel came down.Instead of reacting, Dad just looked down at his severed legs. Suddenly, he raised his head and flashed an eerie smile."I win," he murmured into the empty air, his eyes unfocused. "I lasted one hour longer than him. I'm the tough guy. I'm the toughest dad of all."The courtroom erupted in murmurs. Everyone stared at him like he was some kind of monster.Only Mom understood that he had completely lost his mind.He was living in his own delusion, trapped in a nightmare from which he would never wake.B

  • The Winter That Buried Our Youth   Chapter 9

    Dad's company also sent a termination notice, citing serious violations of social ethics that had caused a terrible impact on the company.The career he was so proud of was gone, as was his so-called family honor.He sat alone at home.The walls were covered with my awards from childhood—"Student of the Month", "Class President", "First Prize in Math Competition". Every single one was beaten out of me with his belt."If you don't get first place, you don't eat!""Stop crying! Real men don't cry!""If you can't handle a little hardship now, how will you ever get ahead in life?"Dad stared at those awards and started drinking heavily, polishing off one bottle after another. When he got drunk, he started to hear things.He kept thinking he heard me crying out, "Dad, I'm cold. Dad, I can't climb any further. Dad, don't leave me behind.""Ugh! Stop talking! Stop it!" Dad covered his ears and stumbled wildly around the room, knocking over a vase and overturning chairs.He cranked t

  • The Winter That Buried Our Youth   Chapter 8

    It was a sheet torn from a notebook, its edges jagged and uneven. There was blood on it, along with stains from melted snow. The handwriting was shaky and crooked, the kind left by fingers stiffened in extreme cold.Dad reached out and took it with trembling hands.What did he think it'd be? An accusation toward him? A curse? Or a cry for help?He unfolded the paper.I floated over to look as well.It was what I'd written to him in my final moments of clarity, just before I died.The note had only one line, "Dad, I'm sorry for disgracing you. I can't climb any higher."Dad stood dumbstruck. He stared at that line of text, his eyes bulging as if they might pop out."He's sorry. He says he's sorry to me."At last, tears flowed from the eyes of this stone-hearted man. But they weren't for me. Instead, they were for himself. That apology, as humble as it was, had completely destroyed his pathetic pride.He thought I'd hate him or curse him. That way, he'd have an excuse to call m

  • The Winter That Buried Our Youth   Chapter 7

    Unable to hold back anymore, Uncle Dennis slammed the glass in his hand onto the floor."Enough! Trevor, that's a human life we're talking about! How can you say things like that? Julian's weak, so you sent him to his death? That's murder!""I did not commit murder!" Dad shrieked hysterically. "I did it for his own good! I wanted to make him strong, to be able to make it in this world! Is that so wrong? Huh? Was I wrong?"He spun around the private room, pointing at everyone. "What do you people know? You're all just jealous! Jealous that I have the guts to raise my son this way!"Now that something's gone wrong, you're all coming down on me? Well, let me tell you—as long as Julian's still breathing, I haven't lost! I can still whip him into shape!"I floated in mid-air, watching this man who had completely lost his mind. It wasn't that he didn't believe it—it was that he didn't dare to.The moment he admitted that I was dead and that he was the one who killed me, his precious to

  • The Winter That Buried Our Youth   Chapter 6

    "Julian's fingers broke just to hold onto that torn piece of paper of yours. Are you even human? That's your son! You made him wear a single layer up a snowy mountain? You're worse than an animal!" Dwayne shouted.In that instant, everyone in the room froze.Uncle Arnold's cigarette fell from his fingers onto his pants, burning a hole in them. Yet, he didn't even feel it.Mom let out a sharp gasp and fell backward, chair and all, onto the floor.Dad kept the phone to his ear. "What did you say, you liar? Scammers these days are getting way too sophisticated. Are you trying to trick me out of my money or blackmail me? Well, let me tell you—my son is perfectly fine. In fact, he's in special training and—"The line went dead with a beep.Immediately after, a multimedia message came through.Dad's fingers trembled as he tried to open it, but he kept missing the button.Finally, Uncle Arnold reached over with a shaky hand and tapped it for him.The image was taken under the harsh l

  • The Winter That Buried Our Youth   Chapter 5

    I was praying that the wolf would eat faster.At least then my so-called father wouldn't have the chance to give his sickening little lecture over my dead body.Time ticked by, minute after minute. The clock on the wall pointed to 11:15 pm.The atmosphere in the private room had grown somewhat strange.Aside from that one momentary shift, the red dot never moved again. It just stayed there, 440 yards from Camp One.Dad was feeling the effects of the alcohol now. He glanced at the time and slapped the phone down on the table."Ten more minutes." He looked around at everyone, his gaze hazy yet fervent. "I bet this brat walks through that door right at midnight. He's definitely been there all along, just hiding outside waiting to surprise me."This brat's been this way his whole life. He wants to curry favor with me, but doesn't have the guts to just come out and say it. I'll wager a bottle of vintage wine that the moment he steps through the door, he'll get on his knees."Then, h

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