“I’ve been running this butcher shop in the neighborhood for years. Everyone knows everyone around here. I’m only telling you this because you look like a good kid. Trust me, follow what I said and you will find the source of the smell.”
Despite my doubts, I believed him … mostly.
I ended up buying two pounds and four ounces of meat and took it home.
The stench truly tormented me. I could smell it everywhere I went, but it was especially unbearable at home. The smell was so intense, it kept me up at night.
I had to take sleeping pills just to fall asleep and I could not help but increase the dose every night.
No one in my family cared about my plight, saying I was being overly sensitive and fragile.
My younger brother even cruelly mocked me, "Have you been reading too many CEO romance novels and developed a psychological disorder? Are you imagining yourself as the fragile, sensitive female lead?"
My parents laughed at me when they heard him, brushing off my condition as imaginary nonsense. There was not a shred of concern for my condition in their heart.