It was late at night. My mother, Brenda Fuller, gripped a scalpel and sliced through my skin and flesh skillfully in the basement.Perhaps it was because she had not used a scalpel for a long time, but her hands shook a little.Each layer of skin or flesh was cleanly separated before being discarded into a garbage bag at the side.My older sister, Layla Larson, sat hunched over in a corner of the room. Her eyes rounded with horror. "Mom, let's just call the police. I'm scared."As I levitated in the air, I cast her a sideways glance.A few days ago, I received a message from Brenda telling me to meet her in the basement.As soon as I entered the basement, I felt something hard hit me at the back of my head. The pain overwhelmed me, and I lost consciousness.When I opened my eyes again, what I saw was my bloodied and mutilated body. My face and body were doused with strong acid and disfigured to the point of being unrecognizable.Layla shuddered involuntarily. She dared not even
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