When Love Dies: A Family's Tragic End

“The first thing I felt was the splintering pain in my back, a sharp, ugly ache. My art school interview, my one shot, was missed because a ladder slipped. Instead of concern, my adoptive parents, the Davises, stood over me and my ruined canvases, their faces masks of fury. "Stealing Emily's scholarship spot wasn't enough," my mother shrieked, "now you've sabotaged her art career? We never should have adopted you!" My father grabbed me, hauling me up despite my cry of pain, and dragged me to the attic, slamming the door shut with a deafening metallic click. The familiar dread of claustrophobia seized me. "Please," I gasped, pounding a weak fist against the door, "Please, don't. I can't... I can't breathe." But their footsteps faded, her words echoing: "She's just being dramatic." They left me there, trapped and forgotten, my pleas turning into choked sobs no one would hear. Days later, they discussed plans for Emily during their European vacation, dismissing the growing, sweet stench in the house as my mess. They never thought of me again, not for seven days, not until it was too late.”