Sentenced to Death for a Bag of Gummies

Since when is eating a snack before dinner a capital crime? All because of a bag of gummies, my parents beat the hell out of me, and a judge coldly sentenced me to death. I was absolutely convinced the candy was laced! It wasn't until moments before my execution that I accidentally found out the truth: my family...

——

"Sorry I'm late, sweetie, traffic was a nightmare!" Mom called out, walking into the kitchen with her arms full of groceries.

"What do you want for dinner tonight?"

I froze.

I quickly pushed the fridge door shut and slid my right hand behind my back, hiding the neon sour gummies.

Snacks before dinner were strictly forbidden in our house.

"Whatever you're making is fine." I swallowed the sour sugar fast, trying to clear my throat.

Mom stopped moving. "What are you hiding back there?"

"Nothing."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're ruining your appetite again. Show me."

I pulled the half-empty bag forward.

"It's just sugar. I needed a fix."

When she saw the plastic, the grocery bags slipped from her fingers.

Her palm cracked across my cheek before the tomatoes even stopped moving.

I fell hard against the lower cabinets.

"You little bitch." Her breathing hitched.

The sour sugar dissolved under the sudden, hot wash of blood in my mouth.

What? My brain completely short-circuited.

Did she just hit me? Over a snack?

"Mom! I was starving and —"

She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back.

"I knew there was something wrong with you," she hissed. "I should have scraped you out the day I found out I was pregnant."

She raised her hand again.

"What the hell is going on?" Dad barked.

Having just parked the car, he stepped into the kitchen, carrying the rest of the household supplies.

I scrambled behind his back, clutching his shirt.

"I just ate snacks before dinner, and she’s trying to hit me!"

Dad dropped the supplies and stepped between us, glaring hard at Mom.

"Are you insane? You're going to beat your daughter over a snack?"

Thank God. He was the rational one.

"Look at it." Mom pointed at the floor. "Look at what your daughter brought into our house."

"She's a grown up, you can't just—"

Dad followed her finger.

When he saw the bag of gummies, he froze.

He spun around, locked his fists onto the collar of my hoodie, and hauled me violently off the ground.

"Where the fuck did you get this?" he roared.

"Amazon." The fabric choked me. "It's just candy—"

Before I could explain, his fist drove straight into my stomach.

"Are you trying to kill us?" he roared. "Is that what you want?!"

He threw me to the ground and kicked me hard on my thigh.

I curled into a tight ball on the tiles.

Mom stepped closer, looking down at me with pure disgust.

"You're a curse," she spat. "I wish to God I never had you as a daughter."

Then, Dad grabbed my arms and dragged me upstairs.

"No, please! You can't do this to me!" I pleaded.

"Just tell me what is—"

SLAM.

The bedroom door shut in my face.

I lay crumpled on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

My eyes landed on the nightstand.

The family photo.

Dad tossing me high into the air. Mom looking up at us, laughing.

Hot tears leaked out of my eyes, stinging the cuts on my face.

None of this made any fucking sense.

The next morning, the door only opened wide enough for a plate of cold toast to slide through.

"Reflect," Mom said. "Find out what you did."

Utill night, I heard faint voices outside.

"...we have to deal with it." Mom's voice.

"It's too dangerous to keep her here now." My dad.

"If it goes like last time—"

Last time?

What exactly were they talking about?

I held my breath, flattening myself against the floor.

All I heard was the bedroom door slam.

I scrambled up and twisted the doorknob. Locked tight.

I limped to the window and looked down. A second-story drop. Way too high to jump.

If I tried to make a run for it now, they'd catch me in a second.

My heart hammered against my bruised ribs.

I forced myself to wait.

Once I heard Dad snoring through the walls, I grabbed a bobby pin from my dresser.

My hands shook so badly I dropped it twice.

I forced the metal rod into the keyhole and jerked it hard left.

The lock clicked open, and I crept down the dark stairs, holding my breath.

When I opened the front door, freezing rain was pouring down.

There was no time to grab anything. I bolted straight into the downpour.

I didn't stop running until I reached the next block.

Maya's house.

We had known each other since third grade. I needed her to help me figure out what the hell was going on.

I dragged myself to her bedroom window and weakly tapped the glass.

"Maya," I choked out. "It's me."

No answer.

The rain intensified, plastering my clothes to my bruised ribs, pulling my body down.

My legs violently trembled.

"Please. Wake up. Please."

My knees gave out. I pressed my forehead against the pane, my body sliding downward.

I couldn't hold myself up for another second.

Right as I was about to collapse into the mud—

The blinds snapped up.

Maya pulled the latch and shoved the window open.

Her eyes darted over my swollen face.

"Jesus, Chloe," she gasped, grabbing my arms. "What happened?"