I fell to the ground, shaking from my father’s blow. “You idiot! Why do I even bother keeping you around?! Ever since you were born, you’ve been nothing but trouble!”

“I’m sorry, Father,” I mumbled.

“Sorry?! Sorry won’t bring Priscilla back!”

I cringed, waiting for him to strike me again. Instead he pointed and shouted, “Go to your room! The sight of you makes me sick!”

I obediently rose to my feet and fled to my room. Grabbing my raggedy stuffed penguin Pedro, I crawled under the covers, fighting back tears.

I knew that tears were what my father wanted. If I cried, he would be rid of me. According to the law, every man, woman, and child above the age of six was forbidden to cry. If anyone cried, he was taken away and thrown into prison.

My father hated me because I had been the cause of my mother’s death. She had cried during my delivery, for it had been very hard on her. Right after I was born, the Tear Guards stormed in and stole her away.

Father had never forgiven me. He blamed me for it all, and he was right, of course. If I hadn’t been born, Mother would still be here. A single tear ran down my cheek, and I swiped it away. No one would ever see me cry.