Chapter 1

Yan returned home from class, the door creaking slightly as he pushed it open. As he stepped inside, the weight of the day's lessons still heavy on his shoulders, his eyes were immediately drawn to the living room. There, on the couch, sat his mother, exactly where she had been when he left in the morning. The room was a landscape of discarded snack wrappers and half-eaten treats, a sea of crumpled plastic and foil that encircled her like a fortress. Her enormous frame sprawled across the couch, her body nearly filling every inch of the furniture. Her belly, round and distended, jutted outward, resembling a massive balloon that seemed to defy the limits of her clothing. The sheer size of it was both startling and somehow mesmerizing, a surreal contrast to the memories of the woman she once was.

As he entered, her eyes flicked up briefly before returning to the television, where a mindless game show droned on, adding to the surrealness of the moment. The sight before him was jarring, halting him in his tracks as a wave of conflicting emotions washed over him—concern, disbelief, and an unsettling sense of helplessness. The scene was almost too much to process, leaving him to struggle with the reality of the person before him and the fading image of the mother he once knew.

Yan had never imagined that at just 21 years old, he would find himself thrust into the role of the man of the house. It wasn't a position he chose, but rather one that life had slowly and almost imperceptibly forced upon him.

It began a few years back, when his father had unexpectedly passed away. The loss had struck the family like a bolt of lightning, leaving a gaping void in their lives. Yan, who had always been a diligent student with dreams of making something of himself, suddenly found those dreams burdened with the weight of responsibility. His mother, once a vibrant and energetic woman, had been the heart of their home. She kept everything running smoothly and was the emotional anchor for both Yan and his younger sister.

Now, with that anchor gone, his mother had found refuge in comfort food. Her coping strategy, once a source of solace, had turned into an all-consuming habit. As the months passed, Yan started noticing the gradual changes in his mother's physical appearance. She grew larger and larger, her once slim figure swelling like a balloon before his very eyes. At first, he tried to mention it gently, hinting that perhaps she should cut back a bit. But his words fell on deaf ears, and his suggestions were met with irritation and defensiveness. As the kilograms piled on, it became increasingly difficult for his mother to move around. Simple tasks that were once routine now seemed Herculean efforts for her. Climbing the stairs had become a monumental challenge, her breathing labored as her weight strained her already taxed body. Soon, even the short walk to the kitchen started to take its toll, reducing a trip that used to take seconds into a long and arduous journey. The living room became her temporary sanctuary, the place where she spent most of her time, the couch almost a throne in her new realm of immobility. But the hardest thing to watch was the change in her mental state. As her body grew heavier, it seemed like her spirits had grown heavier as well. Yan rarely saw her smile anymore, and the spark that used to light up her eyes had dimmed. Despite his efforts to get her to go out or participate in any kind of activity, she always came up with excuses to stay at home. It was like she had given up completely, resigned to a life confined to her couch and surrounded by the remains of her binge eating.

The situation had gotten dire enough that Yan had reluctantly taken over the household duties. He'd become the cook, cleaner, and even the primary breadwinner, all while trying to finish his studies. His younger sister, who was in high school, tried to help where she could, but she was understandably overwhelmed by the situation as well. It was a burden no 15-year-old should bear, and yet there they were, all struggling under the shadow of their mother's massive size. Yan's younger sister had followed a similar path as their mother, though on a smaller scale. She had gained a substantial amount of weight, her once slim figure slowly rounding out into a mirror image of their mother's plump form. Despite her young age, the extra weight she carried was already having a noticeable effect on her mobility. Climbing stairs was now a struggle for her, and what once would have been a simple jog was now reduced to a labored waddle. In stark contrast to his mother and sister, Yan had managed to maintain his fit and slender physique. Despite his role as the man of the house, he still found time for regular exercise and tried to eat healthy meals when he could. He was acutely aware of the importance of maintaining his own health, both physically and mentally, in the midst of the tumultuous situation at home. His family had often teased him about being overly concerned with his health, calling him 'obsessed' with his diet and exercise routine. While it initially was just a way for him to deal with the stress of caring for his family, it had blossomed into something more. He had developed an interest in nutrition and fitness, finding solace in pushing his body to its limits. The room was filled with the sound of Yan's mother's enormous belly gurgling and groaning as if it was a living, breathing entity. In response to the persistent growls, Yan pushed a plate of steaming hot food in front of her. The meal was a concoction of her favorite fatty foods, each one carefully prepared to satisfy her voracious appetite. His mother practically inhaled the food, gulping down mouthful after mouthful without pausing to savor the taste. Her appetite was endless; it seemed as though she was always hungry, always demanding more. The sheer amount of food that she consumed on a daily basis was astronomical, a testament to her voracity and the extent of her emotional eating.Yan watched her silently, masking the mixture of concern and disgust that churned in his stomach. He had long lost count of the number of times he had seen her do this, the sight and sound of her constant eating had become a strange kind of routine. He knew that this wasn't healthy, that she was spiraling out of control, but he also felt powerless to stop it. Yan tried to suppress the thought, the one that quietly whispered in the back of his mind, the one that told him he actually enjoyed seeing his mother eat like this. It was a guilty pleasure, a sick fascination that he was ashamed of. But he couldn't deny the way it made him feel, how it stirred something within him that he couldn't quite understand. He hated himself for it, for the secret thrill he got every time he put more food in front of her, for the way his heart raced as she swallowed each bite. It was a twisted, perverse thing that he was forced to confront every day, something he could never share with anyone, not even his own family.

Despite his conflicted feelings, Yan continued to feed his mother, his hands moving mechanically to prepare the next plate of food, his mind in turmoil with the war between disgust and fascination. The cycle repeated day after day, a silent dance of unhealthy habits and mixed emotions that continued without an end in sight.