The House

I need you

      The silenced that followed his parents words were deafening. I stared at them, my mind reeling, unable to fully comprehend the gravity of what they were saying. My gaze shifted between my father disgusted face and my mother's annoyed face, searching for anything to tell me that this is just a sick joke, that everyone is in on it.

"I-i don't understand," I finally managed to say, my voice came out hoarse and trembling. "You're going to...to stop taking care of me?"

      My father's expression remained unyielding, a mask of stern resolve. My mother's gaze flickered momentarily, but she quickly looked away, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You'll manage," my father said, his tone cold and final. "We've done enough for you. It's time you learn to fend for yourself. I don't know what we have to do to make you understand"

      I felt the air leave my lungs, as if the words had physically knocked the wind out of me. "Understand? How can I possibly understand this? You're my parents. You are supposed to take care of me, no matter what..."

      My father rolled his eyes. "That is exactly the problem, Jin. We've been taking of you for too long, and now its putting our own survival at risks. We can't afford to keep you. You're 10. Time to grow up."

      Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them see me cry. "But... but where am I supposed to go? What am I supposed to do?" My voice cracked with desperation. "I'm not even a teenager that can work. You're standing here and telling me that you're abandoning me. I have no money, no resources, anything to help. How am I-"

"Enough, Jin," my father snapped. "This conversation is over.

      "You'll figure it out," my mother said, her voice lacking any warmth. "You always do." Without another word, they turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, stunned. Days turned into weeks, and they barely acknowledged my existence. They stopped coming home until late at night, and when they did, they ignored me as if I wasn't even there. I would sit at the kitchen table, waiting for them, hoping for some explanation, some change of heart, but none came.

      I looked around the house, the place that was supposed to be my sanctuary. It suddenly felt alien and hostile. The weight of their abandonment settled heavily on my shoulders, and a sense of hopelessness began to creep in.

       Each day, the hunger gnawed at my insides like a relentless beast. I scrounged for scraps, eating whatever I could find, but it was never enough. My stomach ached, and my body grew weaker. I felt the desperation mounting with every pang of hunger, every moment spent alone in that empty house.

      As the days passed, I stopped going to school. The thought of facing my classmates, pretending everything was okay, became too much. I felt too withdrawn...to detached to have energy for school anyway. The way his physical and mental was d declining , he didn't feel like explaining what happened. My teachers eventually stopped calling, and no one from the school ever came to check on me. It was as if I had disappeared from their world entirely. The absence of food, the constant ache in my stomach, left me too weak to even think about leaving the house. Eventually it became too much. I started to wander the streets, looking for any sign of sustenance. The convenience stores became my new haunt. I learned to slip in and out unnoticed, grabbing anything I could—snacks, chips, candy bars—anything that would fill the gnawing void in my belly.

      My first few attempts were clumsy, my hands shaking as I grabbed what I could and ran out the door. The thrill of the chase, the fear of getting caught, mixed with the desperation of hunger. Eventually, I got better at it, learning the routines, the blind spots in the security cameras. I'd slip in, grab a few items, and bolt out before anyone could stop me. The adrenaline rush was addictive, but it was the only way I could eat.