After I Died, They All Felt Sorry For Me

My mock exam results came back, and I scored among the top.

For most families, that would be a reason to celebrate. But not mine. My mother, Ashley Miller, locked me in the basement.

"With scores like these, why are you doing in school? Skip meals for now. Just stay down there," she said coldly.

Dad, Vincent Miller, who was working out of town, rushed back overnight. As soon as he entered the basement, he lashed out with his belt, beating me mercilessly.

"I'm working myself to the bone out there, and this is what you give me? I'd be better off keeping a dog than paying for your upkeep.