Mom broke free from Dad and Grandma, ran toward me and pushed me hard.
I was caught off guard and fell to the floor. Behind me was my bag, the one with the box cutter I always carried.
The sharp blade cut into my lower back. I couldn’t move.
Still not satisfied, Mom kicked me again and again. Each kick drove the blade deeper.
I wanted to beg Mom to stop, but the heavy feeling of being unable to breathe kept me from saying a word.
Maybe seeing my face grow paler stopped me from saying a word.
Dad suddenly shouted, "Enough! Enough!"
Mom stopped and looked at him in shock.
"You're protecting her? You're really protecting her? Fine! Then I’ll die! I’ll make space for you two!”
The next moment, before anyone could move, Mom ran out of my room and rushed toward the balcony railing at the end of the hallway.
A loud bang rang out and the world fell silent as everyone froze in shock.
Grandma was the first to move, crying out in pain, "My precious daughter!"
She was the first to run out of the room, with Dad and Grandpa right behind her.
No one even looked at me, still lying on the floor. I just listened to the screams and frantic voices from downstairs.
"Wife, wife!"
"Daughter, daughter!"