When I had three ribs broken and was locked in the pigsty, I didn't want to die. When I had my teeth knocked out for rebelling against the old bachelor at the east end of the village, I didn't want to die. Even if my adoptive parents didn't give me food for three days and three nights, I would drink rainwater, eat rats and do whatever it took to survive.
How could Shawn be scared to death by a dead rat? He should have stuffed the dead rat into those people's mouths, suffocating them!
But Sheryl wouldn't listen. She only wanted to kill me to avenge Shawn's death. In desperation, I kicked her in the stomach.
From then on, we had an irreconcilable feud. Years of suffering had instilled in me an extraordinary desire to survive. For me, staying alive was the most important thing in the world. When someone threatens my life, I would fight back without hesitation.
Like when my adoptive parents tried to beat me to death over 300,000 dollar in compensation. I called the police without hesitation and fled. Similarly, when Sheryl pushed me down the stairs, I, without a second thought, put rat poison in her food. Sheryl was sent for gastric lavage.