“When my real mother died from cancer when I was five and my brother was two, we were devastated. Our whole world was crashing in front of our eyes. Everything we knew was taken away. Gone.”

“But luckily my dad recognised the need for a maternal figure in our lives. He made the right call too, because his job was so demanding that he often had to travel out of town. If he hadn’t we might as well be orphans. Or one of those unlucky children drifting from one nanny to the next.”

“That was how Ma Helen came into our lives.”

“She was our second mother. She struggled to bring our little family up on her own, and I commend her for her sacrifice. We weren’t well-off, but we got the occasional ice cream for our birthdays. And it was the only time when we could feast until our bellies were full.”

“She also stressed on good manners. We learned to talk properly, to walk properly, to smile properly. We learned the importance of respecting our elders. If we did all that, we were rewarded with good food. If we didn’t we would be punished.”

“We were also encouraged to study hard and get good grades. But when we got into our teenage years my brother couldn’t stand the pressure and started to rebel. Ma Helen pushed back. And he couldn’t take it anymore.”

A tear rolled down my cheek as I thought of my poor brother.

“In the end he disappeared. We think he ran away.”

“It was a tragedy, what happened to my brother. But I took it in stride. With Ma Helen’s encouragement I studied really hard. Now I am standing in front of you today about to enter the top university in the country and a scholarship for leadership and excellent conduct.”

“Three cheers to my wonderful stepmother, Ma Helen!” I roared at the top of my lungs.

Everyone stamped their feet and cheers ran across the room. I looked across at Ma Helen, hoping I did a good job with my speech, and she nodded in grim approval.

Good job, kiddo.

As everyone else was helping themselves to more wine, I slipped away from the party. Laughter dimmed away the further I ran. My footsteps echoed in the silence.

Finally I reached his room. The door creaked open and dust fluttered into my face.

Everything was dead here. The remains of my brother leaned against the wall, dressed in shabby and moldy clothes. His chains were long rusted The rats which She had released into his room every day—even after he died— had picked him to the bone. Half his skull was chewed away, revealing little bits of half-eaten pink.

Ever since my brother rebelled and failed to warn the authorities, I have been taken here. A warning.

This is what happens if you don’t love me.

Kneeling in front of my brother’s corpse, I couldn’t help but cry in anguish.