The Cruel Son Billy

1

The day my mom died, I put on a white dress, a tradition to show respect.

Suddenly, seven-year-old Billy charged at me. He slashed my dress with a pair of scissors and dumped a whole bucket of cheap red paint all over me.

"Today's my mom's birthday, what do you think you're doing, wearing that color? She hated white more than anything!"

He was definitely his father's son. They had always prioritized the same woman.

My skin broke out in hives almost immediately. The blood and paint mixed t