After Dad Died, Mom Sentenced Me to Death

After Dad died, I no longer had a home.

When I was being brutally abused, Mom hung up on my desperate call for help.

"Stop pretending. Even if you die, I won't forgive you."

My sister mocked me too.

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have lost Dad."

On the eighth day after my death,

my mother, a snow sculptor, was working in her studio on a giant snow sculpture.

Her ice shovel plunged into the snow, and a bloodied severed limb fell out.

She didn't recognize me.