The Kindest Parents Locked Me in a Gas Chamber

Harrison burst out of his room, hand clamped over his nose. He kicked the bottle of cough syrup sitting outside the door and sent it flying.

Glass shattered. The dark liquid pooled across the floor.

"It reeks! Did she poop in there and smear it on the walls?"

"Gross, gross, gross!"

He squatted down and dry-heaved twice, then scrambled to the window and gulped in mouthfuls of fresh air.

Sally glanced at the black water seeping through the crack under the door.

"Honey, that smell isn't right."

Terence walked over and leaned in to sniff. His brow furrowed, then smoothed out just as quickly.

"That coal stove burns cheap loose coal. Of course it stinks. The ash probably got soaked in water and started rotting."

He knocked twice on the door.

"Libby, put out the coal stove."

No response.

"Libby?"

Nothing.

Sally lowered her voice. "Maybe we should open the door and check?"

Terence pulled the handle. It didn't budge.

Harrison had locked it from the outside. But yesterday, he'd also sealed the entire doorframe with expanding foam sealant, plugging up even the keyhole.

"We'll need someone to come take it apart."

Terence sighed.

"It's the weekend. Locksmiths are hard to book."

He picked up his phone and scrolled through a few numbers.

"Earliest anyone can come is tonight."

Sally hesitated.

"Then... why don't we go get some fresh air first? The community charity awards ceremony is at two this afternoon. We can take Harry to pick up the trophy."

She walked to the entryway console, peeled off a sticky note, and hunched over the counter to scrawl a crooked line of words.

She stuck it on my door.

"Be good, Libby. Mommy's taking your brother out and will be right back. There's cough syrup and a hand warmer by the door. If you're hungry, come out and eat. Love, Mommy."

Before leaving, Terence took one last look at the door.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a locksmith.

"Hey, eight o'clock tonight. You'll want to bring a power saw. The doorframe's been sealed shut with expanding foam. It'll have to be forced open."

He hung up, took Harrison's hand, and they walked out the front door. Harrison held the little "Boundless Love" commendation banner high, bouncing with every step.

The deadbolt clicked behind them. The apartment fell completely silent.

At six that evening, the family of three came home.

Harrison had a gold badge pinned to his chest. Terence cradled a crystal trophy engraved with the words: Family of the Year — Terence Chavez & Sally Fox.

The key slid into the deadbolt. The moment the door swung open, a wall of stench hit them.

Harrison doubled over on the spot and vomited.

Sally pressed her sleeve over her nose and mouth. "What is that smell?"

Terence strode inside, face twisted. The air purifier in the living room had its indicator light blazing an angry, deep red. A second later it beeped once and shut itself off — the toxic gas concentration had exceeded its limit.

He pounded on my bedroom door twice.

"Libby! What the hell are you doing in there? Look at what you've done to this house!"

He pounded harder.

"Libby, do you even know that your father won the Family of the Year trophy today? You should be proud of this family! Instead you're holed up in that rat's nest throwing a tantrum! I should make you look at this trophy and learn what it means to be a decent human being!"

Still nothing.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

On the other side stood Officer Kevin Lawrence and two uniformed inspectors from the Environmental Health Department.

"Mr. Chavez, I'm real sorry to bother you. From yesterday to now, we've gotten twenty-three complaints from this building alone. Some folks say black water's dripping through their ceiling. Others say toxic fumes are coming through the ventilation ducts. Just a little while ago, old Mrs. Li on the third floor called 911 — said she suspects there's a gas leak in your apartment."