Because I drank a bottle of Coke, my parents tried to kill me. Summer break had just started. I’d just survived the long, sticky drive back to our old house in the mountains. The heat was suffocating, so I made a beeline for the fridge. Luckily, there was one last bottle of Coke inside. I twisted the cap and drained it in one go. The cold fizz was life-saving. That’s when my mom came out of the kitchen. She was all smiles. "Alex! You're finally home! Your dad and I are prepping ribs, we're gonna have a big barbecue..." I was smiling, about to answer. But my mom's face suddenly changed. Her eyes locked onto the empty Coke bottle in my hand. The bright, welcoming expression vanished, replaced by something dark and terrifying. She hissed, "You! Did you drink that Coke!?" 1 I flinched. At that moment, I still hadn't realized how serious this was. I just said, "Yeah... why? Did it... did it taste weird to you?" I thought maybe it was expired. It wasn't. The next second, my mom lunged at me. I had no time to react. She slapped me, hard, across the face. I yelled out, stumbling back, my cheek on fire. My mom's expression was savage, like she wanted to murder me on the spot. My head was spinning. I was too stunned to speak. Thankfully, my dad heard the noise and ran in from the kitchen. I looked at him, my voice cracking. "Dad! Mom... she's crazy... she just hit me for no reason!" My dad started to yell at her, but she just shrieked: "He drank the Coke!" And then I watched it happen all over again. My dad's angry eyes snapped to me. He lunged, too. He kicked me, hard, in the stomach. This time, I didn't stay standing. I crumpled to the floor, the wind knocked out of me. All I could do was groan. Through my blurry vision, I saw them standing over me, their faces twisted in pure disgust. "Quick... lock him in the cellar." 2 I didn't come to until it was dark. My stomach was a knot of pain. I sat up and realized the cellar door was locked from the outside. My phone was gone. I could hear my parents walking around upstairs. I banged on the door, I yelled, but they ignored me. What was happening? No dinner, a brutal beating, and now I was a prisoner. Then, I heard them whispering. "...what are we going to do with him?" "...no choice... even if he's our son..." "...I agree... but let's wait. It'll be less painful if he's asleep..." I froze. My parents, who had doted on me my whole life, were planning to kill me. All because... I drank a bottle of Coke? What was in that bottle? I had to calm down. I had to get out. I suddenly remembered... when I was a kid, I used to play hide-and-seek in this cellar. I always hid behind the old woodpile. Not just because it was a good spot, but because in the corner, behind the pile, there was a hole in the foundation. It was blocked by a few loose bricks. I used to sneak in and out. The woodpile was gone now, replaced by junk. But in that corner... An old, rusty metal cabinet. I scrambled over and shoved it aside. Yes! The loose red bricks were still there. I kicked one, and it shifted. I knelt, pushing and pulling the bricks out one by one. A dark, narrow hole appeared. It took time, and my whole body ached, but I finally managed to squeeze through. I came out in the damp, cool dirt under the porch. I didn't wait. I just ran. This was a rural town. No shops, no payphones. I instinctively ran to the closest house: my grandpa's. But as I stood in front of his door... I hesitated. What if he was like them? Just then, a voice came from the darkness behind me. "So there you are." 3 I jumped out of my skin and spun around. It was my grandpa, leaning on his cane. I relaxed, just a little. It wasn't my dad. "Grandpa, I..." I opened my mouth, but how could I explain it? "My parents are trying to murder me over a soft drink"? Would he believe me? He seemed... normal. He chuckled. "Figured you'd come see your old grandpa, huh? Come on in, come on in..." He fumbled with his keys and started to open the door. He was acting completely normal. But as he pushed the door open and waved me inside... it hit me. I stopped. "Grandpa, why aren't you surprised to see me? Did you know I was coming home for the summer?" He smiled, his eyes glinting. "Of course I knew... It's late, Alex. Get inside." I didn't move. "Who told you I was back? And... where are you just getting back from?" His smile froze. And my blood ran cold. My parents locked me in the cellar at dusk. Of course they would have told my grandpa. I had been so stupid. He wasn't out. He was just coming back... from my house. I still clung to a last thread of hope. But then his face changed. The folksy charm vanished, replaced by a cold fury. He didn't even bother to explain. He just raised his heavy wooden cane and swung it at my head. I was already backing away. I ducked, and I felt the whoosh of the cane as it smashed into the doorframe. He had put all his strength into it. My legs turned to jelly. I just ran. Behind me, I heard him yelling, "Damn it! Get back here, you little bastard!" The night air was cold. My heart was colder. What was in that Coke? 4 I ran until my lungs burned, and hid in a thicket of ferns. I was exhausted, but... I felt fine. My body wasn't changing. I wasn't growing scales or a third eye. It was just a normal Coke. But my family was treating me like I was a monster. I had to find out why. I couldn't run forever. I couldn't trust anyone. Except... maybe one person. My best friend, Josh. I had no money, no phone. I couldn't even leave town without help. I cut through the dark woods to his house. I knew his room was on the ground floor. I crept up to the window. The light was on. I tapped on the glass. A second later, he appeared. I spoke before he could yell. "Josh! Don't freak out! It's me, Alex. I'm in serious trouble." He let out a breath. "Dude! You scared the hell out of me! Why are you at the window? Come to the front door." "Are your parents home?" I asked, my voice low. "No, they're not. They got some weird call and just bolted out of here. Why?" My stomach tightened. It had to be about me. My parents knew Josh was my best friend. They must have found me gone. I was about to explain when Josh's phone rang. 5 He answered it casually. "Hey, Dad? What's up?" I stood frozen, listening. "Alex? Why are you looking for him?" Josh's eyes shot to me, wide with confusion. He pulled the phone away from his ear and hit the speaker button. "No, I haven't seen him. Why?" His dad's voice was tense, urgent. "Because... because he drank a bottle of Coke! Son, I'm serious. If you see him, you call me or your mom immediately. Do you understand me? Don't go near him." Josh looked at me, completely baffled. "Uh... okay. Sure." He hung up. "Dude," he whispered, staring at me. "What the hell is going on? You drank a Coke, and my dad's acting like you started a zombie apocalypse." I finally felt a tiny bit of relief. He was normal. He hadn't heard "he drank a Coke" and immediately turned on me. But his parents weren't. They were part of it. Josh was smart. "My parents could be back any second," he said, climbing out the window. "Let's talk out here." "My dad said your parents have the whole town out looking for you. This is insane. You didn't just drink a Coke, did you? What did you really do?" It sounded crazy even to me. I told him everything that had happened since I got home. He listened, his expression growing more and more disturbed. When I finished, he was silent for a few seconds. "You know," he said slowly, "my grandma used to tell this story... You've probably never heard it, since your family moved away for so long." He told me the legend.
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