I Chose Death to Please My Parents

My name is Jacob Brewer, and I'm the oldest child in my family. Both my parents are top graduates from elite colleges. My younger sister, Willow Brewer, is in third grade and gets perfect scores in every subject. My little brother, Ivan Brewer, has only just learned to talk, yet he can already recite the periodic table from memory. And then there's me, forever scraping by with barely passing grades. So when Willow cashes in her perfect grades for a family trip to Serova over the Christmas holiday, I volunteer to stay home. "I'll stay behind and take care of Grandma since she's paralyzed." Mom hesitates, but Dad simply turns to me and says coldly, "Fine by me. Being a good son might be the only thing you've got going for you anyway." I force the bitterness down and nod resolutely. I know this is already the highest praise they can give me. Being a good son is the only thing that gives me a place in this family. But I never expected that, right after my parents leave, Grandma dies unexpectedly while she's in my care. Then, moments later, I hear my parents' car crash through the phone. As I stare at Grandma's lifeless body on the bed and listen to the crash through the phone, I decide the useless me might as well go with them. Only later do I learn that the crash was nothing but a recording Dad had prepared for me, just to test whether my devotion to my family is genuine. And in the end, I give him my answer with my life. Chapter 1 Mom gave Dad a pointed look. Seemingly uncomfortable, she asked, "What kind of nonsense are you saying in front of Jacob?" She kept her voice low, but her annoyance was evident. Dad abruptly dropped the suitcase he was carrying and raised his voice. "What's wrong with what I said? Am I wrong? We've raised him for 18 years. "What else does he actually have going for him besides playing the dutiful son? His grades have never been anything to brag about. He's always just done enough to squeak by. We were never like that. "We even had to buy his way into high school! With his grades, he won't even get into a no-name college. He'll have no choice but to go to some crappy trade school!" The suitcase fell heavily onto the floor with a loud thud. Mom glanced at me, who was frozen stiff off to the side, and snapped, "That's enough! Don't talk about him like that!" Dad's eyes were bloodshot as he glared at her. "Lori, are you seriously picking a fight with me over this ingrate?" He turned to me, his face twisted with anger. "Jacob, be honest. Aren't your younger brother and sister better than you? For a family like ours, isn't it embarrassing for us to have a kid who can't even get into college?" Suddenly, all the anger was directed at me. Panicking, I turned to him, and all I could do was apologize. "I'm sorry, Dad. I know I've let you down." But somehow, that only made him angrier. "Enough, Jacob Brewer! Every time I say anything to you, all you ever do is apologize and play the victim. What else are you good at besides acting like you're devoted to the family? "For all I know, even that so-called devotion is just an act to make people feel sorry for you!" With that, Dad spun around and slammed his bedroom door shut. Loud crashing and banging came from inside. Mom glanced at me and sighed. "Jacob, your dad's just stressed about your grades. He doesn't mean what he says. Don't take it to heart…" I swallowed my bitterness and gave a small nod. "It's okay, Mom. You should go check on Dad." She soon went inside to calm Dad down. As I stared at the closed door, my chest ached terribly. I'd always known I wasn't as smart as my younger brother and sister. I'd watched Mom's face fall with disappointment every time she saw my grades. So I always tried my best to make up for it in other ways, hoping I could at least make them a little happier. That was why I helped care for my little brother, Ivan Brewer. I did everything—from feeding and changing him to putting him to bed and playing with him. On weekends, I'd even take my little sister, Willow Brewer, to and from her extracurriculars. Even when Grandma became paralyzed three years ago, the moment her caregiver left for the day and I got home from school, taking care of her was my responsibility as well. I did all of this hoping Mom and Dad would think that I was at least a good son, even if I wasn't a great student. But just now, Dad even accused me of faking it. That must be how he saw me. To him, being stupid was a disgrace, and no matter what I did, it was simply just an act. I turned around and quietly slipped into Grandma's room. To my surprise, she was awake, staring at me with her cloudy eyes. I sat down beside her bed, taking her hand. "Grandma, am I really that horrible?" She moved her hand to gently touch my palm. She seemed to be writing something, so I focused on the movement. She was writing a word with a lot of loops. She was writing the word "good". Tears spilled over before I could stop them, and I choked up. "You're the only one who thinks I'm good… Only you do…" Grandma made a soft, unintelligible sound, her own eyes growing misty. Wiping away my tears, I forced a smile. "It's okay, Grandma. I'll take good care of you. It's the only thing I'm actually good at, anyway." Chapter 2 Early the next morning, Mom and Dad got ready to head out with Ivan and Willow. Mom trailed behind Dad, practically walking on eggshells. He still seemed upset about what had happened the day before. They were all decked out in matching outfits they'd bought for Christmas, making them look like a picture-perfect, happy family. And then there was me, still wearing last year's black padded jacket, sticking out like a sore thumb. Dad glanced at me before pulling out 200 dollars from his bag to hand to me. "Here. This is for you. I stocked the fridge with enough food to last until we are back. If you don't feel like cooking, just buy yourself something to eat. "Make sure your grandma takes her medicine on time, and change her diaper when she needs it. Don't let the house stink up. I don't want to come home and have to clean up after you." As I took the money, I suddenly remembered them mentioning last night that this trip to Serova would cost at least 20,000 dollars. Nevertheless, I kept my mouth shut. I held the money tight in my hand and simply nodded hard. "Thanks, Dad. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything." At least Dad still cared about me. He was worried I'd go hungry. What he said yesterday must've just been said in the heat of the moment. It was my fault for falling short. Mom patted me on the shoulder and said guiltily, "Take good care of Grandma while we're gone. We'll bring you back a souvenir." As I looked up, I forced a smile. "Okay, thanks, Mom. Have fun." How nice. I was getting a gift. I was already looking forward to it. The car started pulling away. I stood there, watching Dad through the window. He turned toward the backseat, saying something to Ivan and Willow. Then he wore a warm, fatherly smile. I used to get that smile too. Before I turned seven, he used to look at me like that. When did he stop? It probably started the day I brought home my first-grade test paper. I'd gotten a 59. Dad stared at the numbers with a deep frown, while Mom's eyes widened in disbelief. After that, Mom and Dad took it upon themselves to help me with everything. They signed me up for one tutoring class after another. And I studied hard too. I wanted to make them proud, but I could never seem to get much higher than a passing grade. Then, for my sixth-grade finals, I studied my butt off. And when I got a 70 for the first time, I practically ran home to tell Mom and Dad. I could still remember how Dad stared at me for a long time that day, his eyes filled with disappointment. Mom looked at me and just sighed. And after that day, Dad never smiled at me again. I waited until the car had completely disappeared before slowly turning back inside. Once inside, I headed straight to Grandma's room. A foul smell hit me immediately. The air was thick with the stench of feces. Recalling Dad's parting warning not to let the house smell, I rushed over to clean Grandma up. Then I wiped her down, changed her diaper, gave her her medicine, and massaged her stiff limbs. I had it all down to a science. From the very day she was paralyzed, as long as I was home, this was my job. Her caregiver had once praised me, saying, "Jacob, you're more meticulous than a lot of professionals." I was so happy that I ran to tell my parents. Dad was in the middle of helping Willow with an advanced math problem when I went to him. Without even looking up, he remarked, "Yeah. That's about the only thing you're good for." The smile froze on my face, and I quietly backed out of the room. From that day on, I knew that being the "dutiful son" was the only thing keeping me relevant in this family. So whenever Mom and Dad were stressing about who would take care of Grandma, I was the first to volunteer. If I couldn't even do this right, I really would be good for nothing. After getting Grandma cleaned up, I went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. I had already put away the money Dad gave me since I wasn't planning on spending it. That way, when he got back, he'd see I wasn't just dutiful, but really sensible and frugal, too. The thought made me smile. I had some mushroom soup simmering on low heat for Grandma. She could only handle a liquid diet right now. Just as it was almost done, my phone buzzed. It was a photo from Dad. Willow and Ivan were building a sandcastle, and there was a brilliant blue sea and a golden beach in the background. Mom and Dad had sunglasses on, both smiling happily. A message was attached to the photo. "We made it. Having a great time. Make sure you take good care of Grandma." I just stared at the photo for a long time. Serova… The ocean… I really wanted to go too. I shook the thought off and tried to hype myself up. "Come on, Jacob. You might not be on the trip with everyone else, but at least you can hold down the fort here and give Mom and Dad complete peace of mind." After a long pause, I replied, "Okay." With a bowl of soup in one hand and my phone in the other, I walked into Grandma's room. "Grandma! Grandma, Dad sent us a picture! They're already in Serova. The ocean looks super blue. Here, I'll show you." I held the photo up in front of Grandma as I called out to her. But she just kept her eyes closed, completely motionless. Chapter 3 I gently shook Grandma by the shoulder, but there was still no response. When I saw how lifeless she looked, my hands began to tremble. I slowly placed a finger under her nose to check if she was still breathing. The bowl slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor, splattering soup everywhere. There was no breath, not even the slightest hint of one. "Grandma… Grandma, wake up… Please don't scare me..." I desperately shook Grandma, my voice full of panic and helplessness. There was only one thought running through my head—Grandma was dead. I had let the person I was supposed to care for die! Mom and Dad trusted me with her, and I screwed up the one thing I was supposed to do. I'd gotten Grandma killed. What would Mom and Dad think of me now? They'd be even more disappointed in me. "No… This can't be happening…" I was babbling incoherently, my whole body shaking uncontrollably. What should I do? What was I supposed to do? Right, I needed to call them! I had to call Mom and Dad right now! I shakily rummaged through the mess on the floor for my phone. The screen was covered in soup, so I quickly wiped it with my sleeve. With trembling fingers, I finally found Dad's number. I tapped the call button, and the phone began to ring. I screamed internally, "Come on! Pick up, Dad! Please pick up!" Finally, it connected. "Hello?" Dad sounded cheerful, with upbeat music playing in the background. "Dad…" As soon as I tried to speak, my voice got stuck in my throat. "What's wrong? Make it quick. I'm driving." "It's Grandma, she…" Suddenly, a piercing screech of tires blasted through the speaker. Then came the sound of a violent crash, followed by shattering glass and screams. The call suddenly disconnected. "Dad? Mom?" I yelled into the phone, but there was nothing but a busy tone. Panicking, I called again, but the call wouldn't go through. I tried to call Willow's smartwatch too, but no one answered. No matter how much I called, nothing went through. A cold chill washed over me. I stared at Grandma lying on the bed. I'd let Grandma die. And did Mom and Dad just get into a car crash because of my phone call? What about Willow and Ivan? I couldn't even bear to think about it. I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hysterically. Before long, I could smell something burning. The mushroom soup was still bubbling away on the stove. Did I forget to turn off the stove? I numbly made my way to the kitchen. Sure enough, the stove was still on. Gas was silently leaking into the room, filling the air with a faint, unpleasant smell. I reached for the knob, but froze before I could turn it off. Why should I bother? Grandma was dead. Mom, Dad, and everyone else were probably dead too. The whole family was gone. And all that was left was me, the oldest, the dumbest, the most useless one, who had absolutely nothing to offer but being devoted to the family. And I'd completely ruined that one thing, too. I killed Grandma and everyone else. I'd killed them all. I slowly lowered my hand before walking out of the kitchen. When I got to the living room, I sat down on the couch. As the smell of gas grew stronger, my head started spinning. I lay down, closing my eyes. This was for the best. I might as well just go with them… Maybe in another life, I'd be a little smarter. Maybe Mom and Dad would finally pay attention to me. Just as my consciousness started to fade, I thought I heard the doorbell. It rang once, then twice before ringing frantically. And then, everything went silent. Chapter 4 I rose into the air. As I looked down, I saw myself lying on the couch, my face pale and bluish. I thought about Mom, Dad, Ivan, and Willow. And in the blink of an eye, I somehow ended up at the resort hotel they said they were staying at. I remembered they'd booked the room with a balcony overlooking the beach. So I drifted over, passing right through the glass doors. Then I froze. Mom and Dad were sitting there, looking perfectly fine. Willow was watching cartoons, while Ivan was playing with his blocks. They were okay? Overjoyed, I rushed over to hug them, only for my arms to go right through them. I cried out happily, "Dad! Mom!" But they couldn't hear me. That was when I remembered that I was dead. But how? I definitely heard a car crash over the phone. Right then, Dad pulled out his phone and played an audio clip. The sound of tires screeching was exactly the same as what I'd heard over the phone earlier. Dad said coldly, "See? What did I tell you? His whole 'good son' act was just an act! All it took was an audio clip to prove it." Mom sat across from him, looking uneasy. "Let's just wait a little longer. Maybe—" Dad angrily cut her off, "Wait for what? It's been hours since the 'accident.' Has he even bothered to call to check if we're okay after hearing a crash that serious?" Mom sighed. "Maybe he's busy taking care of Christina and just hasn't had time to call." She tried to defend me, but her voice grew softer with every word. It was clear even she herself wasn't sure anymore. Dad suddenly raised his voice, bordering on a roar. "My mom? She's perfectly fine! How much care does she actually need? It's just feeding her, wiping her down, and changing a diaper! How much time could that possibly take? "We got into a serious car accident, yet he couldn't even be bothered to check on us! I can't believe you even picked a fight with me over him yesterday. "I'm telling you—I've seen right through him for ages. He's a lousy student, and he's not exactly likable. Now, even his little good-son act is fake! "We spent 18 years raising him, and he's still less devoted than a dog! A dog would at least bark if something happened to its owner!" I was struck dumb. At that point, what else was there to figure out? So the crash I'd heard over the phone was fake. It had just been a recording. They were never in danger. They were just waiting for me to call and check on them. This whole thing had just been Dad's test of my devotion to the family, and he'd done it to prove that it was all just an act? Ivan, startled by Dad's yelling, burst into tears. Mom quickly went over to hold him and didn't say anything else. Even though I was already dead, I felt ice-cold all over. I drifted over to Dad, screaming through my tears, "That's not true! Dad, I called! I called so many times! I thought you were dead! So I…" My hands slipped right through him, and no one could hear me. Mom knitted her brows, saying, "Alright, that's enough. I'll call him and let him know we're okay." The dial tone felt endlessly long. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears streaming down my face. "Stop calling, Mom. Please stop. No one's going to answer. No one will ever pick up again. I'm already dead. "When I thought I was the only one left in the family, I chose to die. I died because of Dad's stupid test…" The phone rang for a long time before going to voicemail. Mom's face turned ashen, and the hand holding her phone trembled slightly. I knew Mom's last hope for me had died with that unanswered call. Dad lowered his voice, sounding tired. "See? I knew his care for us was totally fake. Who knows how much he resents us deep down for playing favorites and leaving him behind? And this is his way of getting back at us." Mom stayed silent this time. She no longer tried to argue. I fell to my knees, sobbing my heart out. But no one could see me, and no one could hear me. Over the next few days, they carried on with the rest of their vacation. Mom and Dad seemed to have an unspoken agreement to never bring me up again. The day before they were due to return, Mom and Dad happily took my younger siblings to pick out souvenirs. Willow picked up some colorful seashell wind chimes. "Dad, look how pretty this is! Can we get this for Jacob?" I looked at the pretty wind chimes, and for a second, my frozen heart felt a little warmer. But before I could even smile, Dad's face darkened. His voice was ice-cold as he snapped, "Why would we bring him anything? That ungrateful punk doesn't deserve a thing." I looked at Mom, the one who had promised to bring me a gift. She simply turned away and said nothing. As I felt a dull ache in my chest, I gave a bitter smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm dead anyway. It's not like I can use wind chimes now. I don't need it. I don't need wind chimes, and I don't need Mom and Dad's love anymore…" Back in the hotel room, Mom and Dad started packing their bags. I floated in the corner, quietly watching them. I wondered how they'd react when they got home and saw Grandma and me. Would Dad be heartbroken? Would he feel remorseful? Just then, there was a knock at the hotel room door. Two police officers stood in the hallway, their expressions grim. "Are you Mr. Charles Brewer? We've received a report from your local police department. Two bodies have been discovered at your residence. We need you to return immediately to assist with the investigation."