Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rich and Famous

I pushed the pillow into his face. He tried to scream. He couldn't. I took the pillow off. He coughed. His spit landed on the jacket he gave me 25 years ago. "Greg, stop," he sputtered. I put the pillow back over his face. It wasn't my fault, anyways. He deserved it. I had every right to say what I said. He should have just left his mouth shut. "You brought this on yourself, Dad," I told him. I took the pillow off. "You won't say anything." He whimpered. I left.