My Family Tried To Kill Me. Big Mistake.

It was the third year of the Extreme Cold Apocalypse. I barely kept the indoor temperature above freezing, thanks to my stash of anthracite coal.

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, who had fled to my house, dumped all the coal down the drain while I was asleep.

I woke up freezing and confronted her. She just pointed indignantly at the "lucky crystal" she'd brought.

"The spiritual advisor said all these dark, gloomy things in the house were blocking our luck and prosperity. They had to go."

To "attract good fortune" in this apocalypse, she even tore off the insulation panels I'd used to seal the windows.

"Good luck has to come in through the windows! You sealed them all off, do you want us all to starve to death?"

Ethan, my husband, wrapped in my warmest down jacket, stood by, nodding and praising his mother for doing the right thing.

He had stuck all my remaining hand warmers onto his rare collectible action figures, terrified the plastic might become brittle and crack.

"These are limited editions. Our future depends on them appreciating in value. What's a little chill for you?"

At three in the morning, I woke up, shivering.

An icy cold seeped through my heavy sleeping bag, biting into my bones. The digital thermometer on the wall showed a chilling red number: -5C.

Just half an hour ago, when I fell asleep, it had been +8C.

The only heat source, the coal stove in the living room, was out.

I grabbed my jacket and rushed out of the bedroom.

In the living room, Eleanor was using my last iron shovel, laboriously prying open the sewer cover, dumping shovelful after shovelful of black coal into it.

The ton of anthracite coal Id piled in the corner, enough for the three of us to survive the winter, was already more than half gone.

The sewage mixed with coal dust gave off a nauseating stench.

"Stop!" I yelled, my voice hoarse from the cold and fury.

Eleanor jumped, and the shovel clanged to the ground.

Instead of looking guilty, she straightened up, pointed at me, and snapped, "You jinx! What are you doing up in the middle of the night? Trying to scare me to death?"

I looked at the coal, now turned into sludge in the sewer, and my vision blurred with rage.

"That's our coal! Our only way to survive the cold! What are you doing?"

"Of course I know!" Eleanor put her hands on her hips, indignant, and pointed to a brand new golden idol of prosperity she had enshrined in the center of the table. "The mystic said there were too many dark things in the house blocking our luck! Look how gloomy this place is. How is the God of Prosperity supposed to come in?"

That golden idol was the only "luggage" she and Ethan had brought when they fled to my house yesterday.

The bedroom door opened, and Ethan, my husband, walked out, wrapped in my thickest goose down jacket.

He yawned sleepily, saw what was happening, and didn't stop Eleanor. Instead, he frowned at me.

"Sarah, why are you yelling at Mom? She's only trying to help us."

I let out a dry, humorless laugh, pointing at the half-empty coal pile. "Trying to help us? She threw away all the coal! We'll freeze to death tonight, the three of us. Is that 'helping' us?"

Ethan waved his hand impatiently. "It's just a little coal, isn't it? Go find some more. Mom brought the idol so we can turn our lives around. What do you know?"

As he spoke, he carefully walked to the glass display cabinet by the wall, pulled out a few hand warmers from his jacket, and meticulously stuck them to the bases of his precious action figures.

"These are all limited editions. With the temperature outside, the plastic can easily get brittle. What if they crack?" He didn't even look up. "If these appreciate in value, our whole family will rely on them to make a fortune. You're just a woman, what's a little chill to you?"

I looked at his self-righteous face, then at Eleanor, who wore a 'I'm thinking of you' expression. A shiver ran down my spine, though not from the cold.

Just then, Eleanor started a new action.

She walked to the window and began ripping off the multi-layer thermal reflective film I had painstakingly installed three years ago, a task that had taken incredible effort.

"This has to go too!" she said, tearing it. "Windows are where good luck enters! You sealed them off completely! How's the God of Prosperity supposed to come in? Do you want us all to freeze to death?"

"Screech"

A harsh tearing sound echoed, and a large gap appeared in the thermal film.

Instantly, a white stream of icy air surged in through the opening, and the indoor thermometer plummeted.

-6C... -8C... -10C...

Ethan shivered, pulling my down jacket tighter.

But he still nodded. "Mom's right. This really should come off."

I didn't argue with them anymore.

I silently watched the numbers on the thermometer drop from -10C all the way to -15C.

Eleanor and Ethan finally started to feel the cold.

"Oh no, why... why is it so cold?" Eleanor rubbed her arms, her teeth chattering.

Ethan was also shaking with cold. He looked at me, his voice demanding, "Sarah, don't you have other things to warm us up? Get them out now! Do you want to freeze us to death?"

Three years ago, when the Extreme Cold Apocalypse hit, they, mother and son, immediately took all my savings and fled into an official climate-controlled human base.

They abandoned me in this house, which I had personally renovated, leaving me to fend for myself.

For three years, they thought I had died in some forgotten corner, never once checking on me.

But then, three days ago, they appeared at my door, looking haggard and defeated, claiming the base had kicked them out.

I looked at their thin clothes and faces, purple with cold, and actually felt a moment of weakness, relenting and letting them in.

Now it seemed this was the most foolish mistake I had made in three years.

I ignored Ethan's shouts and turned to my tool shed, dragging out a disassembled solid wood table.

I had originally planned to use it to reinforce the fences once spring arrived.

I took out an axe and silently chopped the table legs and tabletop into pieces suitable for the stove.

"Thump!" "Thump!" "Thump!"

Dull thudding sounds of chopping wood echoed in the silent, cold room.

Eleanor and Ethan watched me, their eyes filled with confusion and disdain.

"Sarah, what are you doing? Burning furniture? Are you crazy? That's terrible luck!"

"You've managed to survive this long, so your conditions can't be bad. Are you just trying to provoke us?" Eleanor shrieked.

"Exactly! You must be hiding good stuff; don't think we don't know!" Ethan chimed in. "Quick, get out the good coal! This rotten wood creates so much smoke, it's suffocating! What if it damages my action figures? Can you even afford to replace them?"

I said nothing, just mechanically chopped the wood.

Soon, the stove was re-lit. Orange flames surged, bringing a long-awaited warmth.

But the thick smoke from burning wood quickly spread, filling the entire house with a choking smell.

The thermometer numbers slowly climbed back to -8C, but didn't rise further.

The heat value of burning wood was far inferior to anthracite coal.

Eleanor and Ethan coughed repeatedly, tears streaming from their eyes.

"Cough, cough, cough... Sarah! I order you! Put this fire out immediately! Get out your good stuff!" Ethan yelled at me, covering his mouth and nose.

"Yes! Hurry! If it ruins my God of Prosperity, can you bear the responsibility?" Eleanor echoed.

I stopped chopping wood and slowly lifted my head, my gaze sweeping over their faces, red from lack of oxygen.

Then, I walked to the corner and picked up a 20-liter spare gasoline can.

I unscrewed the cap, and the heavy smell of gasoline instantly overpowered the smoke from the wood.

Eleanor and Ethan's faces changed.

"You... what are you going to do?" Ethan's voice held a trace of fear.

I didn't answer. I just carried the gasoline can, step by step, to his glass display cabinet.

His "limited edition" action figures inside the cabinet looked cold and rigid in the dim firelight.

"Don't... don't touch my action figures!" Ethan's body tensed.

I tilted the gasoline can slightly.

"Splash"

Amber liquid poured onto the top of the glass cabinet, slowly seeping through the cracks.

"Ahhh! My action figures!"

Ethan let out a desperate shriek, lunging at me like a madman to snatch the gasoline can from my hand.

I sidestepped, easily avoiding him.

His emaciated body couldn't even touch a single one of my fingers.

"Sarah! You lunatic! If you touch my action figures, I'll kill you!" His eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted in a grimace.

Eleanor was also dumbfounded, pointing at me, her lips trembling, unable to utter a word.

I watched Ethan coldly, placed the gasoline can on the ground, and then pulled a lighter from my pocket.

"Click."

A small, orange flame danced at my fingertips.

"Both of you, go get all the coal from the sewer. Not a single piece missing," I said, my voice calm.

Ethan's body froze.

Eleanor's eyes widened in disbelief. "You want us to dig in the sewer? That's disgusting! No way!"

"Exactly! Sarah, don't go too far!" Ethan snarled, though his voice lacked conviction. "Do you think I'm afraid of you? Go ahead and light it! These action figures are worth a house! If you dare to burn them, I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life in jail!"

He was talking about pre-apocalypse prices.

In this era, a house was worth less than a single compressed food bar.

I didn't bother with more words.

I simply moved the lighter forward gently.

The flame instantly licked at the gasoline-soaked glass cabinet.

"Whoosh"

Blue flames roared to life, engulfing the entire cabinet in an instant.

Choking black smoke billowed upwards, and the stench of burning plastic was nauseating.

Ethan's pupils contracted violently in the firelight.

"No!"

He let out a desperate wail, collapsing to the ground, watching in despair as his "limited editions" twisted and melted in the fierce flames, turning into puddles of black liquid.

Eleanor also collapsed to the ground in terror, a foul odor emanating from her pants.

She had actually peed herself.

I watched it all until the entire cabinet was reduced to a charred skeleton, then extinguished the flames with a fire extinguisher.

The room was a mess.

The temperature began to drop again.

I turned around, looked at the dazed mother and son, and repeated my words.

"Go, retrieve the coal."

This time, no one argued.

Ethan looked like his soul had been sucked out, his eyes vacant. Eleanor, in extreme fear, trembled uncontrollably.

I walked up to her and shoved the cold iron shovel into her hand.

"Go."

Eleanor flinched, almost dropping the shovel again.

She looked up at me, her eyes full of fear and pleading.

They had personally destroyed our shared path to survival; they would have to personally retrieve it.

Under my stare, Eleanor tremblingly picked up the shovel and a bucket, and with a zombie-like Ethan, walked towards the foul-smelling sewer.

The cold, viscous sewage quickly soaked their pant legs.

Eleanor retched, but seeing me standing not far away, she gritted her teeth and plunged the shovel into the sludge.

The task of retrieving the coal was harder than expected.

The sewer contained not only coal dust but also three years' worth of various household waste and excrement.

Every shovelful Eleanor and Ethan pulled out was like digging up a putrid piece of evidence from hell.

Eleanor threw up several times, eventually even spitting up bile.

Ethan remained silent throughout, mechanically repeating the digging and dumping motions.

Suddenly, Ethan tripped over something in the sewer and let out a terrified scream.

"Ah! Something! Something's biting me!"