Chapter 2

The old house had thin walls.

Even with my parents keeping their voices low next door, if I pressed my ear to the wall I could catch some of it.

"...why do I feel like our daughter's changed?"

That was my father.

"You know your own daughter. She's a good, obedient girl. Come dinner, I'll cry a few times, and she'll fall right back in line."

"Then your gambling debts, the household expenses, our son's tuition — all of it's taken care of."

Cold, quiet calculation.

The instructor had been right after all.

They weren't worthy.

They weren't worthy of a single cent of mine, of borrowing an ounce of my light.

Dinner, same as always, two bland vegetable dishes.

My parents ate, exchanging glances now and then. I acted like I didn't notice and ate in earnest.

Starting today, I had to prepare to hit the books again. It took a lot out of you. I needed to eat more.

Halfway through the meal my mother set down her chopsticks.

"Sybie, sweetheart, you're part of this family. When the family's in trouble..."

Here we go again.

Really ruins the appetite.

The instructor had said:

"Guilt-tripping like this, most of the time it's the parents doing it. Remember, their lives are bad because they're incompetent, not because of you."

I filled my stomach fast and set down the empty bowl and chopsticks.

"Have you got nothing left to say?"

"You've been saying this since I was little. If the family has no money, isn't that because the two of you have no ability? Since you have no ability, then don't open your mouths. Talk less, do more. That's what you should be doing."

"Also, I'm going to repeat my senior year."

"No!"

My father was worked up.

"College takes four years, and you won't necessarily earn much once you're out! Sweetheart, listen to your dad. Go to that trade school, and you'll have a job the minute you finish. Your dad's counting on you to start earning and pay off the debt sooner!"

My mother chimed in right after.

"That's right. Your cousin already said, the moment you graduate she'll get you a spot at their plant. Four thousand a month."

"It's not that Mom doesn't want you in college. We just don't have the means for it!"

She looked at me with red eyes, and on the side gave my little brother a pinch.

He started wailing.

"Sissy, I'm hungry, Sissy."

He wrapped himself around my leg. I peeled him off and threw him back at my mother.

Then I flipped the table.

The old folding table had no weight to it.

One light shove and it went over.

The second principle:

No matter who lays a hand on you, you carve your revenge into their blood and bone.

My brother was so frightened he broke into loud sobs. My parents stared at me like I was a lunatic.

It didn't move me.

I glared at my brother, out of patience.

"If you're hungry, go find your mom. If you want to blame someone, blame her. A gambling-addict husband, a woman earning two thousand a month — how did they dare have a second child?"

"You're in grade school now, you can understand words. Remember this: your misfortune was brought on by your mom and dad. Don't come to me. I don't owe you anything."

Full now, it was time to study.

I went back to my room and dug out my review materials.

The crying and shouting outside didn't stop. I fished out a pair of dollar earplugs and pushed them in, shutting out most of the noise.

I should have done this long ago.

The moment my father picked up his gambling habit and set his sights on my savings, I should have done this.

The moment my mother used blood ties to beg me to go earn money, I should have done this.

I hadn't done anything wrong.

At home, I was good to my parents and looked after my little brother. At school, I respected my teachers and helped my classmates.

I was just too soft-hearted.

I thought taking care of the family was all my responsibility.

But how old was I back then? Those were just responsibilities other people didn't want to carry, dumped onto me.

The family's hardship wasn't of my making. If anything, I was the one who kept this crumbling household from falling apart.

Everything I gave, they took as their due.

To clip the wings that would carry me out of here, my parents locked me in the house on the last day of my SATs.

They thought that would make me resign myself to it, meekly go to some junior college, and then earn money for them.

My heart ached so much.

I hated them, but I hated myself more.

Hated that I really had almost let them talk me around.

What could I do?

They were my own parents, my closest kin. It wasn't as if they'd never been good to me. If I listened to them, everyone was happy.

But I understood it clearly: if I really did what they wanted, I would rot here for good.

So I went to the correction center.

I became the first person to walk in voluntarily since the day it was founded.