Chapter 1

All because I picked the chunks of pure pork fat out of my plate during a family dinner.

The second we got home, Mom’s eyes turned bloodshot, and she blew up in my face.

"How did I raise such an ungrateful, wasteful brat?"

"When I was your age, I had to dig for wild greens just to survive!"

Yelling wasn't enough. She grabbed the broom and beat me with it, over and over.

She didn't stop until I was covered in bruises and blood, sobbing for mercy.

"Mom... please... I'll eat the fat."

Only then did she smile. Satisfied, she dragged out three massive mixing bowls piled high with cold, greasy pork fat and ordered me to finish every bite.

She sat there and watched me swallow it for twenty-four hours straight.

Later, when she saw me cramming the lard into my mouth like a madwoman, she was the one who panicked.

Staring at the three mountain-high bowls of greasy, congealed fat, I sank into pure despair.

I wanted to beg for mercy. But when my gaze met Mom's vicious glare, my throat tightened as if a hand were choking me. Not a sound came out.

"Eat! Why aren't you eating? Or are you telling me you refuse?"

Her shrill voice pierced the air behind me.

I shuddered.

Like a robot, I forced a piece of the slimy, glistening lard into my mouth.

Smack! A sharp pain exploded at the back of my head.

"Wipe that miserable look off your face! Anyone looking at you would think I'm abusing you!"

Terrified, I began shoving giant mouthfuls into my mouth.

Tears mixed with grease—salty, bitter, and nauseating.

Mom smirked, pulling out her phone to film me stuffing my face, then uploaded the clip straight to the family SnapChat group.

"Look at her. Kept whining she hated pork fat. Now she's devouring it like a pig."

A voice memo from Grandma played through the speaker:

"Exactly! Acting all high and mighty just like her deadbeat father. Good-for-nothing snob."

A loud buzz rang in my ears. Mom wasn't furious because I wasted food. She hated that I didn't eat fat because Dad didn't eat fat either.

When I was three, Dad couldn't take Mom's suffocating, psychotic control anymore. He walked out of the marriage with nothing just to escape her.

Mom refused to sign the divorce papers, so Dad took her straight to court.

Ever since, Mom’s hatred had settled squarely on me.

Thinking about Dad made her glare even more venomous.

Panicked, I shoved the fat into my mouth even faster.

To suppress the gag reflex tearing through my throat, I pinched my inner thigh with all my might.

Three massive bowls. It took me a full day and night to swallow it all.

Mom didn't take her eyes off me for a single second. She even followed me into the bathroom to make sure I wasn't sticking my fingers down my throat.

Finally, under her bloodshot gaze, I swallowed the last nauseating bite.

The flesh on my inner thighs was completely purple and black from pinching.

Seeing the satisfied smirk return to her face, I let out a trembling, ragged breath.

But the very next second, my stomach churned violently. The cold, heavy grease revolted inside my gut.

I scrambled toward the bathroom to throw up.

Mom lunged after me, clamping her rough hand over my mouth.

"Don't you dare! If you puke a single drop, I swear to God you're eating it all over again!"