Daddy Doesn't Like Me
Language: en
He says I'm a pathological liar. Just like my mother, always faking illness and playing the victim to beg for sympathy. On my eighteenth birthday, I called him, my voice trembling with desperation: "Please, just show up this once. If you don't, I will die." His voice on the other end was icy and indifferent: "So you've learned to threaten me now? Then go ahead and die." The line went dead. I smiled, my heart entirely hollowed out. The mechanical chime of the System echoed in my mind: [Mission failed. Host termination sequence initiating—] I died on the day of my eighteenth…