A young boy's father has remarried after losing his wife to cancer. The evil step mother has taken the reigns of household finances. After a bad car accident, the father dies and leaves the boy living with the step mother and her, paedo, mother. One day after school, the boy is walking home reminiscing about his mother. After getting home from school, he goes under his bed and pulls out a large box. He opens it. Inside is a small, modest wedding dress, still bright. He holds the dress, rubbing it against his cheek and smelling it for nostalgia. Suddenly, footsteps, and before he knows it, the grandmother walks in on him. She smacks him for playing with a dress and tells him to take off his clothes. Finally having enough, he decides to stand up for himself and screams a defiant, "NOOOOO". The grandmother approaches, angry. "You little shit. You don't wanna take off your clothes form grandma, grandma'll do it for you!" He runs out of the room and waits at the top of the stairs. As she reaches out, the boy ducks under her. She turns to try and grab his shirt collar but loses her balance and tumbles down the stairs breaking her neck. The young boy stares at her body, still and mangled. He goes back into his room and takes out his shoe box of old photos. He begins to cry thinking about how things were when "mother" was around. His step mother arrives home from a hard day's work. She screams as she finds her mother lying dead at the bottom of the stairs. The boy comes out of his room and meets her gaze at the top of the stairs. He clenches his fist around tightly around the dress. She storms up the stairs irate and ready to put the boy in the hospital or worse. As the boy hides back in his room she busts through the door. she opens the closet and finds him standing still....holding the dress. She goes to grab at it but he snatches it away. Assuming its value to the boy, she tries again this time catching a grip. She pulls thinking an easy jerking will free the boys grip. But fueled with rage, sadness, and his defiance, the boys hold is stronger than first anticipated. She begins to pull harder and harder, dragging the boy along the carpet. As she pulls the fabric begins to tear slightly at the waist. Finally backing up against a window sill, she rips at the dress one more time with great vigor and determination. But the dress has weakened and her final yank has doomed her fate. The dress rips in half and her momentum from all her anger and animosity sends her flying backwards out the window. She hits the concrete with a loud thud, her body twitches and blood begins to pool around her head. The boy, sitting on the floor, clutching his dead mother's dress, rises. He walks over to the window and peaks out. The half of the dress still in his stepmother's hand has begin to stain red. The boy turns back to the shoe box. He picks it up, opens the lid and stuffs the remainder of the dress inside. He tucks it under his arm and leaves the room, the house, the life, the death.