The air in the cellar was suffocatingly thick.
The damp and musty smell penetrated my nostrils, and the water droplets on the wall sparkled in the dim light.
Liam huddled in the corner, the burning pain in his back making every breath feel like swallowing a razor blade.
When his adoptive father whipped him with a belt just now, the rough leather belt tore his skin with every blow.
The blood had soaked through the worn T-shirt and stuck sticky to the wound.
"younger sister…"
His voice echoed in the cellar, crying and desperate.
My four-year-old sister is now lying in the trash can at the door of the house. She has a high fever and her thin body is shivering in the garbage.
A congenital heart disease always made her face pale as paper, and now she even had difficulty breathing.
"I want to go find my sister!"
Liam struggled to stand up, his legs shaking from the beating he had just received.
The cellar door was locked, and the heavy iron chain rattled outside the door.
He pushed the door hard, but it didn't budge.
"Let me out!"
His fist hit the heavy wooden door, and his knuckles were instantly broken and bleeding.
"Let me out, you bastards!"
From upstairs came the sound of my adoptive parents talking, mixed with the noisy sound from the TV.
"That kid is still crying down there."
The foster mother's voice was filled with impatience.
"Let him shout. The neighbors can't hear him anyway."
My adoptive father's laughter was eerie and terrifying.
"That sickly guy will definitely not make it tonight, so we don't have to waste medical expenses."
When Liam heard these words, the tears in his eyes dried up instantly.
Instead, there was an anger that had never been felt before.
The anger surged from deep in his chest, burning his blood vessels.
"I hate you!"
His voice was hoarse and filled with hatred that a nine-year-old shouldn't have.
"I hate you guys so much!"
My adoptive mother's high heels made a screeching sound as she stepped on the floor.
"You little bastard dares to threaten us?"
The cellar door was flung open, letting in dim light.
The foster mother stood at the door, holding a wooden stick in her hand.
Her face looked distorted and terrifying under the light, and her eyes were full of viciousness.
"Can you try to scream again?"
Liam looked up, his face a mixture of blood and tears.
The slap his foster mother had just given him was too hard. His left cheek was swollen and blood was oozing from the corner of his mouth.
"Kill me today if you can."
His voice was terribly low, and every word was filled with deep hatred.
"Otherwise, I will avenge my sister one day."
The adoptive mother was stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting the nine-year-old child to say such a thing.
"Even if it costs anything."
Liam stood up slowly. Although his legs were still shaking, his eyes were extremely determined.
"I remember what you look like."
"I remember everything you did to me and my sister."
The night wind blew in from the cellar vent, carrying with it a faint groaning sound from the trash can.
That was his sister calling his name.