My mom was having an affair. The necklace that man gave her? She claimed I’d stolen money to buy it, just to please her. Their late-night dates? She said I was sleepwalking, and she was out looking for me. To make Dad believe her, she beat me black and blue every single time. I became her perfect alibi. Until that man’s wife showed up at our door, pointing at me, calling me a bastard, a love child of a whore. My mom, to absolve herself, grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the wall, screaming that she’d beat this disgusting daughter to death with her own hands. “Iris, come here and let Daddy see.” Dad’s voice was like warm winter sunshine, yet I felt as cold as if I’d fallen into an ice cave. He held a delicate dragonfly brooch, its tiny diamonds glinting blindingly under the light. I didn’t dare go closer, my fingers, clutching the hem of my shirt, turned white from the strain. “Arthur, don’t scare the child.” Mom, Eleanor, walked over and gently pulled me into her arms. I smelled a strange men’s cologne on her. “This child, she’s just getting more and more troublesome.” She sighed, her voice laced with feigned exasperation. “I just found out today that two thousand dollars I put in my drawer is missing.” “I asked her about it, but she wouldn’t say. Then, this afternoon, she showed me this, parading it like a trophy.” “She said it was a Mother’s Day gift for me. Arthur, tell me, how did this child learn to steal money?” Dad’s face instantly darkened. “Iris, is what your mom says true?” I shook my head desperately, tears welling up in my eyes. “No, Dad, I didn’t…” That brooch was given to Mom yesterday by a man I didn’t know. I saw Mom put it into her bag with my own eyes, her face beaming with happiness. “Still lying!” Mom’s hand gripping my shoulder suddenly tightened, with enough force to crush my bones. She pushed me in front of Dad, her face contorted in a show of profound sorrow. “Arthur, look, we’ve spoiled her too much, turning her into a host of bad habits!” “Stealing money, lying, and now daring to argue back in front of us!” “Today, I *have* to teach her a good lesson, otherwise, there’ll be no stopping her!” Dad looked at me, his gaze shifting from warm to deeply disappointed. He tiredly waved his hand. “You deal with it, just don’t seriously injure her.” Having received permission, the gentleness on Mom’s face vanished instantly. She dragged me by my arm into my small room. The moment the door closed, slaps rained down on me. “You little bitch, dare to mess with my business?” “I’ll teach you to talk too much! I’ll teach you to pry!” Every slap was full-force, my cheeks burned with pain, and I soon tasted the metallic sweetness of blood in my mouth. I didn’t dare cry out, only bit my lip raw. Because I knew, the louder I cried, the more excited she got hitting me. She needed my cries to prove to Dad, who was outside the door, how “devoted and responsible” she was as a mother. I don’t know how long it was, but Dad finally knocked on the door from outside. “That’s enough, she’s learned her lesson. The child is still young.” Mom stopped, she opened the door, her voice tearful. “Arthur, my heart aches. My daughter turned out like this, it’s my failure as a mother.” Dad walked in, hugging Mom, who was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe. “It’s not your fault, I’m usually too busy and neglected her discipline.” They were like a loving couple, comforting each other in my room. And I, like discarded trash, curled up in the corner, cold all over. Mom lifted her head from Dad’s embrace, looking at me with swollen, red eyes, her gaze poisoned with malice. “Iris, go apologize to your dad, and promise you’ll never steal money again.”
In the middle of the night, I was woken by a sudden chill. Mom was pulling back my covers, trying to drag me out of my warm bed. “Hurry up, don’t drag your feet.” Her voice was very low, but it held an undeniable command. I asked groggily: “Mom, where are we going?” “No questions, just do what I tell you!” She roughly shoved a thin jacket on me, and dragged me out of the house. The hallway was pitch black in the dead of night; cold wind seeped in through the window cracks, and I shivered uncontrollably. Mom took me to the small garden downstairs, and pressed me onto a cold stone bench. “You stay right here, don’t go anywhere, understand?” Her tone was irritable, and she kept checking her phone. The light from her phone screen illuminated her face; I saw she was texting someone, a sweet smile playing on her lips. “Mom, I’m cold.” I whispered. “Suck it up!” She snapped impatiently, “If you dare wander off, you’ll regret it when I get back!” After saying that, she grabbed her bag and hurried towards the curb at the edge of the complex. A black sedan was already waiting there; the door opened, and I saw the profile of the man from earlier today. Mom got into the car, and it quickly disappeared into the night. Leaving me alone, in the empty garden, surrounded by endless darkness and cold. I don’t know how long I sat there, my hands and feet were numb with cold. Just as I was about to fall asleep, Dad’s anxious shouts came from not far away. “Iris! Iris!” I jolted awake. It was Dad! Just as I was about to respond, Mom’s figure suddenly rushed out from the other side. She clapped a hand over my mouth, whispering a vicious warning into my ear: “Shut up! If you dare make a sound, I’ll beat you to death!” She pulled me behind a large tree, holding me tightly. Dad was shining a flashlight, anxiously searching the garden. “This child, why is she sleepwalking again…” His voice was full of worry. It wasn’t until Dad’s figure disappeared into the stairwell that Mom finally let go of me. She pulled me, walking quickly towards home. “Later, if your dad asks, just say you were sleepwalking, and you ran downstairs and fell asleep. Understand?” I nodded, my teeth chattering from the cold. Back home, Dad was pacing anxiously. Seeing us, he lunged forward. “Where have you been? Iris, are you okay?” Mom immediately switched to a tearful facade, as if about to cry. “I woke up in the middle of the night to find the child gone, I was so scared I nearly went crazy!” “It took me ages to find her downstairs; this child, she’d fallen asleep leaning on a stone bench, her body ice cold.” She said, pushing me in front of Dad. “Arthur, quickly look, what should we do? Her sleepwalking is getting worse and worse.” Dad touched my icy hand, and, heartbroken, picked me up. “It’s okay, Dad’s here.” I buried my face in his warm embrace, savoring this fleeting sense of safety. But Mom’s next words plunged me back into hell. “No, this behavior *has* to be stopped!” She looked at me, her gaze icy cold, “I think she just needs a good thrashing, teach her a lesson, see if she still dares to wander off in the middle of the night!” Dad frowned. “She didn’t do it on purpose…” “It’s because you indulge her like this that she’s getting worse!” Mom screamed, “She scared us so badly today, what if she actually got lost one day!” “I’m going to beat some sense into her today!” She snatched me from my dad’s arms and threw me to the ground. Then, she grabbed the feather duster from the corner and lashed at me, striking wildly.
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