
The Day Mom Burned My Future
Chapter 2
At that, Aunt Tiffany's mind went blank.
"What are you even saying, Jason? That's your own son! He worked hard for the three years he's in high school, all just for that admission letter!" The veins on the back of her hand pulsed as she spoke, clearly furious.
But Dad was unmoved. "But Shannon's upset. I can't stand seeing her lose her temper. I don't care about anything else as long as she's happy. Frank's our child, so why shouldn't he do what we say?"
Then, he handed the lighter to Mom, even turning to grab the envelope that held the admission letter.
I was used to Dad's antics since I was still a child.
Back when I was in high school, Mom was addicted to gambling. But he never stopped her, nor did he divorce her.
Whenever Mom played cards, Dad would pay for it. It went to the point where we didn't even have money to buy bread, but we'd have a card table in the house.
He'd do anything to keep her happy.
As for me, it was considered kind enough for them to keep me alive.
Back then, my monthly living expenses were barely 200 dollars. I was so hungry I could eat grass.
Aunt Tiffany was the one who secretly gave me money every month, just enough to help me survive three years of high school.
Seeing Dad was even worse than Mom, Aunt Tiffany slammed the table in rage.
She yelled, "Do you know what's going on right now, Jason? Your son is one step away from university! Can you please use your brain for once? And you too, Shannon! Isn't it comfortable enough staying home to play cards and scroll on your phone every day? Must you be so unreasonable now?"
Although Mom was still indignant, she only dared to pout to garner sympathy from Dad. Aunt Emily stopped fanning the flames as well.
That was because Aunt Tiffany's hand, pressed hard against the edge of a beer bottle cap, had started bleeding unknowingly.
My nose stung. At that moment, I grew more certain that she was the only person who cared for me.
Just as things were about to settle down, Dad spoke up again.
"No, this won't do. Just look at how miserable Shannon is now. It kills me to see her like that. A good husband is supposed to treasure the woman he loves. He upset my sweetheart, so there have to be consequences," he said.
"I've told you before, Frank. Your mom runs this house. Go get the admission letter yourself!" Dad looked at me coldly, with no emotion in his voice.
This time, I did not argue nor make a fuss. I merely let out a quiet laugh. "Think about this carefully, Dad. Does having Mom smile for a moment really matter more than my entire future?"
Dad turned around, marched straight into my room, and grabbed the envelope from the desk. Before anyone could react, he snatched the bottle of liquor off the table and poured it all over the envelope until it was completely soaked.
He then handed it to Mom. "Come on, Shannon. Don't listen to them. I got your back this time!"
I stood there, frozen.
Seeing the look of determination on Dad's face made me realize that he only loved Mom but not me.
"This is insane! Put that envelope down, Jason!" Aunt Tiffany kicked the chair aside and lunged forward, grabbing at his arm.
Amidst the struggle, Dad yelled, "Hurry up, Shannon! Don't worry about your older sister. She doesn't get a say in our family business!"
Mom, already upset, only grew even more agitated at his words. She grabbed a bottle and smashed it against the back of Aunt Tiffany's head.
"This is my family's business, Tiffany! Stay out of it!" she yelled.
Glass shattered across the floor. Aunt Tiffany cried out while clutching the back of her head, blood dripping down the floor.
Everyone rushed forward to check on her. But Mom quietly grabbed the lighter and lit the envelope on fire.
The moment the flame touched the alcohol-soaked envelope, it surged and devoured the paper in seconds.
In the flickering light, Mom's face was flushed as she giggled. "See that? What I say goes in this house. Both of them listen to me. Frank better get into Horvard next time and make me proud!"
Then, she fell backward and passed out cold.
While still clutching her head, Aunt Tiffany staggered toward the burning scraps and tried to smother the flame with her bare hands.
I grabbed her wrists, trying to stop her. "Don't, Aunt Tiffany. Just forget it!"
Aunt Tiffany's eyes grew red. "Forget it? How can I? You only get one shot at those three years of high school!"
She let out a broken cry before passing out.
I called an ambulance to get Aunt Tiffany to the hospital, but Dad tried to stop me.
He said, "It's nothing serious. Your mom's hands are red!"
I ignored him and turned away. After retrieving the well-hidden admission letter, I got into the ambulance.
Before we left, I looked back at the ashes scattering into the wind and scoffed. "This time, we might not be the ones getting the short end of the stick."