All because my childhood sweetheart wasn't strong enough. My wife, being a real piece of work thanks to her old man's money, forced me to donate my kidney to him. I resisted with everything I had, but then she beat our five-year-old son to a pulp and strung him up over the ocean. She threatened, "If you don't give it up, I'll drop this little bastard to his death!" My son cried with all his might, "Daddy, save me!" Looking at my son's face, red with cold, my heart broke. I was forced onto the operating table. But then I heard my wife coldly order, "No anesthesia. Just take it." "Make sure it's in peak condition for Kenny!" I was pinned to the operating table, the scalpel slashing down. Three hours of torment. I was soaked in sweat, nearly passed out. But even when it was over, my son was still hanging off the cliff. I staggered to confront her, and my wife laid into me, "You have the nerve to ask?" "It's probably because you're such a lousy lay that Kenny doesn't like the new kidney! Looks like I need to teach you a lesson!" Then, my son was thrown into the sea. His cries echoed across the water. Meanwhile, my wife spent a fortune on fireworks, celebrating her childhood sweetheart's recovery. And I knelt by the shore, cradling my son's broken body, consumed by hatred. 1. The town's fireworks display went on for half an hour. I sat in my wheelchair, enduring the pain. I used a shovel to rake my son's ashes out of the cold incinerator. As I carried his urn out of the funeral home, the staff were standing at the entrance, gabbing excitedly. "Did you see that? Sarah, the CEO of Song Corp, threw that shindig for the whole town to celebrate her childhood friend getting better." "That must've cost a fortune, right? Like, a million bucks?" "More than that! She's even got the whole fanciest restaurant in town booked for a week straight. Whatever you want, she's paying for it. Can you imagine how much that's gonna cost?" "If I had a sugar mama like that, I'd die happy." "Yeah, right. Keep dreaming, pal." Listening to the staff's chatter, I didn't notice the wheel getting stuck in a crack, and I pitched forward. To protect my son's urn, I held it tight. The staff saw me and rushed over to help. "Are you okay, sir?" In the streetlight, they saw the bandages on my legs. The cuts meant I couldn't even wear pants. The gravel had torn my skin, blood welling up, but I didn't care. As long as my son was here, I could handle anything. The staff member who helped me saw the bandages on my thigh and looked at me with pity. Being a guy, he probably knew what was up. "Need a ride to the hospital? We're just getting off work, we can give you a ride." I waved them off, thanked them, and carried my son's urn away. I had to take my son home. One hand steering the wheelchair, the other clutching the urn. The million-dollar fireworks continued to light up the sky. Everyone I passed was talking about the spectacle. I gritted my teeth as I went up the hill, only to realize I'd strained my wound. Blood poured out. The pain nearly made me faint. I collapsed on the roadside. A Good Samaritan found me and got me to the hospital. And that's where I ran into Sarah and Kenny. "What are you doing here?" Sarah had been whispering something to Kenny, laughing, but she whipped around when she saw me. She looked at me with disgust. "Couldn't even clean yourself up? You're disgusting." "All they did was cut you a little bit. Stop acting so weak, can't even handle a little pain. Always playing the victim!" I was covered in sweat from rushing to the hospital, and I hadn't had time to shower. I smelled like a funeral home, and I was covered in dirt and blood. Sarah and Kenny, on the other hand, were dressed to the nines, a perfect couple. It made me look even more pathetic. The blood meant I couldn't talk to them. I just wanted to get fixed up and take my son home. I sat in the wheelchair, waiting for a doctor to take me away. Sarah's voice rang out behind me. "Hey, Joey! Did you think you could just ignore me?" Sarah grabbed my wheelchair, trying to turn me around. The urn almost fell, and I grabbed it tight. Kenny looked surprised. "That urn looks expensive. You're using Sarah's money to buy a useless urn? Don't you feel ashamed?" "Sarah is rich, but you can't just waste it like that. She works hard at the office. Can't you be more considerate?" My son was only five. He'd never even left the city. The last time he saw the ocean was when he died. I'd gone to hell and back to find his body after the sharks had mangled it. I'd been a terrible father when he was alive, unable to keep him healthy. Couldn't I at least give him a good resting place? Besides, I'd sold my mother's bracelet to buy that urn. What did it have to do with Sarah? Before I could say anything, Sarah kicked my wheelchair from behind. Caught off guard, the urn tumbled from my arms. 2. The urn crashed to the ground, the lid flying off. "No!" The urn landed on its side, the ashes spilling onto the ground. Ignoring the bleeding wound, I knelt down, trembling, and started gathering them. A foot kicked my hand away. "Gross! What are you doing? Get out of here!" I sobbed. "Please, stop it!" Sarah called over the cleaning staff, who started sweeping my son's ashes into a trash bag. I flew at them, blood streaming down my face, but the ashes were already mixed with trash. "Sarah, are you even human? He was our son!" Sarah scoffed. "Joey, don't think everyone's stupid. You just dumped some nasty powder on the floor. Stop cursing the child! You don't deserve to be a father!" The Song family was rich. After the wedding, Sarah said that men with money go bad, so I had to hand over all my money. Every expense had to be approved by the housekeeper. My son was weak, so I wanted to buy him extra food. But Sarah said, "He's just a kid. He can't eat that much. Don't pretend you're buying it for him so you can spend my money!" "I can't stand men who want money!" My son got skinnier and skinnier. The money Sarah gave me was only enough for three simple meals a day. I wanted to work. She fired the staff and gave me 500 dollars a month to do housework. "I'm paying you 500 dollars to do work at home. Stop bothering me." The extra 500 dollars was useless. I had to save my portion for my son, but he was still more frail than other kids. I swallowed my pride for that 500 dollars, but she could spend millions on Kenny. Sarah watched as I picked the ashes out of the trash, her face disgusted. "There's no way that's all that's left of a person! If you're gonna fake it, at least make it look real!" My son had always been smaller than other kids, and the sharks had torn him apart. Before I could say anything, she continued, "Get out of here! Stop embarrassing yourself. You’re just trying to get my attention!" The doctor wheeled in a cart to re-bandage my leg. I couldn't help but ask, "Why are they examining me again? They already took what they wanted, right?" Sarah rolled her eyes, her voice sharp. "How dare you! If it wasn't for you, Kenny wouldn't have gotten a disease. I haven't even charged you for it yet, and you dare to question me?" "Gross! I can't believe you're like this!" The doctor tried to take me away, but I didn't feel any pain. I just stared at Sarah. "Sarah, my son is dead!" The room went silent. After a moment, Sarah laughed. "Joey, stop faking it. I sent rescue teams to the area." "Can't you stop lying? It’s so immature!" "Cursing with your son, you're such a good father." She sneered. "Hope you don't get punished." Weren't these two the ones who deserved to be punished the most! I was numb. I didn't want to say anything more. I knelt on the ground, ignoring the doctor, and tried to gather the ashes. I didn't care if it touched trash. My child couldn't have any less. Suddenly, a leather shoe came down on my hand. 3. "Ah!-" I screamed. The shoe ground into my fingers. I heard Kenny apologize, acting innocent. "Oh, Joey. Sorry. I didn't mean to. I just had surgery, and I'm not too steady." He was six feet away from me. How could he step on my hand if he wasn't steady? He was doing it on purpose! Rage flooded my mind. I grabbed a can that I'd found in the trash and threw it at him. Kenny dodged to the side, and it hit him in the leg. He crouched down, clutching his leg, and told Sarah. "Sarah, I think my wound ripped open?" Before I could react, Sarah kicked me in the chest with her high heels. "Kenny apologized. Why are you causing trouble?" "He just had surgery. How could you hit him with a can!" The can had hit his calf. It hadn't even touched his thigh! I was silent. Sarah glared at me. "Kneel. Apologize to Kenny!" I knew her personality. If I didn't apologize, she wouldn't let me leave the hospital. I didn't want to see them again. I wanted to take my son home. I swallowed my anger, knelt in front of Kenny, and bowed my head. "Sorry. I shouldn't have hit you." Then, I shakily got to the wheelchair, grabbed the urn, and got ready to go home. But Sarah kicked the wheelchair even further away. "Is that how you apologize?" I didn't want to argue anymore, but Kenny was fanning the flames. "Why doesn't Joey like me?" His eyes were red, and he sniffled. Sarah hated seeing him like that. Sarah kicked my elbow, and I instinctively let go of the urn. She snatched it. I couldn't get up. All I could do was look at Sarah with pleading eyes. "Don't!" She sneered. "I know how much you care about this trash. I'll throw it away." "Sarah, please, I'm sorry. I'll apologize to Kenny. Don't throw it away, please!" I crawled over to Kenny and grabbed his leg, begging. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Blood dripped from my forehead into my eyes, but I didn't care. I just wanted Sarah to put it down. "Sarah, please give me the urn. That's my son's ashes." I cried. "He wasn't healthy. He was small for his age. And the sharks tore him apart. Here's the death certificate!" "If you don't believe me, ask the funeral staff. Please give him back." Sarah paused, her arm lowering. She got ready to take my phone to check. "If you're lying, I'll cut out your tongue!" I let out a breath of relief. As soon as she asked, she'd know I wasn't lying, and she'd give me my son's urn. Suddenly, Kenny started screaming. "Sarah! My head is spinning. Maybe it was all the excitement." "Sarah, where are you? I can't see!" Sarah panicked, throwing my phone away and hugging Kenny, yelling for a doctor. I'd never heard her so anxious. I used to be jealous. Now, I was just numb. 4. After taking my son's ashes home to bury, I called the rescue team again. Sarah had said that she'd arranged for a rescue boat nearby, but there hadn't been any boat there. I'd even had to beg for the rescue. They'd found my son's body downstream. With my doubts, I went to the rescue team. "Hello, has anyone contacted you recently?" I was alone, and the wheelchair made it hard to move. The staff was helpful. I showed them my son's death certificate and rescue messages to prove my identity. The staff recognized me. "Were you the one looking for his son the other day?" I nodded. "Yeah, that was me. My wife said she hired you to be on standby, but I didn't see any rescue boats at the ocean. So, I wanted to ask again." An older staff member took me to the office and asked for details. Then, he seemed to remember something, and he got serious. "We did get a mission for standby rescue, but before we got to the location, the client canceled the operation. They didn't ask for the money back, so we assumed they didn't need us." "That was on the same day your son fell into the ocean." Sarah showed me a video of my son hanging over the ocean. To save him, I had to agree. I thought if I agreed, she'd let him go. I didn't know she canceled the rescue! "What are you doing here!" Sarah yelled. I stood up, grabbed her collar, and shouted, "Why did you cancel! Why!" The staff held me back. Sarah waved her hand. She apologized to the staff. "It's okay. He isn't feeling well." "Thank you for calling me. Sorry for the trouble." She always maintained a good image in front of others. The staff sighed, trying to comfort her. "It's okay. It's what we do. Your son was young, and his body wasn't whole. It's normal for the father to not feel well. We were worried, so we looked through his phone and called you." Sarah looked confused. "What 'not whole' body? Whose son died?" The staff looked confused and handed her the death certificate and rescue photos. "Isn't this your son?"
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