“If you fail, your memory might get tampered with again and you’ll have to start all over. You told me yourself that your childhood memories are fuzzy. So, I think whatever’s in that cabinet might be connected to that. They probably used some special method to erase your memories.”
As the truth began to unfold before my eyes, I fully trusted the butcher's words and prepared two pounds and four ounces of meat for them to eat.
They were unaware of anything and after dinner, they indeed began to feel sleepy. By ten o’clock, they were all asleep, leaving me the only one awake and waiting for midnight to arrive.
Perhaps because I was too nervous, I fell asleep. At midnight, I was suddenly awakened by a series of urgent knocks on the door.
When I opened the door, I saw my father, his eyes closed. He was sleepwalking. Using a kitchen knife in his hand, he banged it against the door hard.
I didn’t dare make a sound. I covered my mouth and crouched beside the door. Then I watched as my dad raised the knife and started slashing my bed like a madman!
The bed frame creaked with each blow and cotton stuffing flew everywhere, as my father, who was panting heavily, shouted through his gritted teeth over and over again, “Die! Die! Die!”
Hearing the commotion, my mother came running over. She also appeared to be sleepwalking.
She stopped my father and began searching the bed. Suddenly, she froze and tugged at my father's sleeve.
Both of them turned toward the door at the same time. Even with my eyes closed, I could still feel the icy chill emanating from their bodies, filled with murderous intent, their voices cold enough to send shivers down my spine.
"She ran out through the door!"
