When I was five, I begged my sister to fly a kite. The wind took it from me. Then, the string cut her throat. At the funeral, my parents’ grief turned on me. “I just wanted to play with her,” I sobbed, struggling to explain. “I didn’t know it would happen.” From that day on, my parents despised me. Years later, when my school announced a kite festival, my mother snapped. “You killer! My daughter is dead because of your kites! You love them so much? Fine. Fly one. Fly it until you break!” She drove me twenty miles into the empty, wind-whipped fields outside the city and thrust the kite into my hands. But she forgot. The forecast had issued a severe storm warning for today. Mom’s car disappeared from my sight. I stood alone, the kite in my hands, and began to run. The wind wasn’t strong enough. It would catch the kite, only to let it fall, sending it crashing to the ground again and again. On the seventh try, it finally caught a steady current and lurched into the sky. II anchored the spool under a heavy stone, then sat on the hard ground, drew my knees to my chest, and looked up. The kite danced on the wind. “Fly high,” I whispered, my voice lost in the gathering gale. “If you see Lily… tell her I miss her.” After Lily’s death, the word “kite” became a taboo in our house. A mere shadow of one on TV was enough. My mother would seize up, then explode, shoving me toward the door. “Out! Go fly your kite, you family-wrecker!” In her eyes, I wasn’t her daughter. I was the sin. Lily’s killer. The wind’s howl deepened into a roar. The sky cracked open, releasing a barrage of fat, icy raindrops. The kite string sang a high, desperate note as it strained. The stone anchoring the spool tumbled away. “No!” I dove for it, a raw instinct to obey overriding all sense. If I lost the kite, Mom would be even angrier with me! Just as my fingertips were about to touch it, a searing, blinding pain exploded. “Ah!” Seconds later, warm, sticky liquid gushed out, quickly coating half my face. The world in my left eye turned blood-red and blurry. Clutching my eye, I trembled with pain, my voice torn to shreds by the wind and rain. “It hurts… Help me…” I stumbled through the mud, blind and disoriented. Rain mixed with blood flowed into my mouth, tasting salty and metallic. My hands clawed. At nothing. There was nothing to hold. Then my back connected with something unyielding with a sickening crunch. The world jolted to a halt. Then, a sharp, piercing pain, so intense it swallowed all the agony I’d felt before, erupted through me. I don’t know how much time passed, but I found myself floating, light as a feather, out of that broken, lifeless body. I looked down at the body on the ground. My body. So, I was dead. The downpour continued, washing over my small body and the bloodstains on the rock. It’s good to be dead. I won’t have to walk home, tired and slow, anymore. As soon as I floated home, I saw Mom and Dad eating dinner. First, I heard Mom’s shrill voice. “Pick her up? Let her die! Doesn’t she love flying kites in this kind of weather?” Dad hesitated. “But the rain is too heavy.” “Heavy?” Mom slammed her forks down. “If she hadn’t insisted on taking Lily to fly a kite, my Lily wouldn’t be dead! She’s a murderer! Why couldn’t it have been her who died instead?” I wanted to tell Mom that I didn’t know the wind would get so strong. If I had known, I would never have dragged Lily there… But Mom couldn’t hear me. Her gaze flickered to my school uniform, which had fallen from the couch to the floor. Her pupils constricted, as if she’d seen something filthy. She rushed over, grabbed the uniform, and furiously threw it to the ground, stomping on it like a madwoman. “You curse! Why didn’t you die instead?!” Dad quickly went to pull her back. “Alright, alright, don’t get yourself sick over her. She’s not worth it.” “The weather forecast said a storm today. You stay home, I’ll go pick her up.” Mom gasped, her chest heaving violently. She looked at the uniform on the floor, her eyes filled with chilling hatred. “Go get her? Absolutely not! I forbid it! She managed to crawl back once, didn’t she? Let her find her own way this time!” “If she dies out there… it’s justice. A life for a life. Let it be her atonement.” Dad’s gaze shifted from Mom to the window. A slow, defeated nod was his only answer. “Okay, I won’t go.” Curled in my corner, I heard them. And a new kind of pain bloomed in whatever was left of me-a pain sharper than the kite string, deeper than the steel bar. Mom. You got your wish. I really did die out there. Is the debt paid now? Is Lily avenged?
The next morning, after breakfast, Mom picked up a velvet cloth and began wiping Lily’s photo frame. The yard, a wreck after the storm, she swept with a cold glance. “So many leaves blown off. Let’s go clean up for Lily, she loved things spotless.” Dad chewed his breakfast, mumbling vaguely. “Okay.” I floated after them to the cemetery outside the city. This was the first time I was “allowed” to see Lily, and only as a ghost. Before, Mom would always yell at me. “You grim reaper, you don’t deserve to be near Lily!” In the photo, Lily smiled sweetly, looking well-behaved and lovely. Mom always said that when Lily was my age, she was so well-behaved she never caused a moment of worry. I gently pressed against the cold photograph. “Lily, Chloe is dead too. Now… I can be with you forever.” Mom’s face pressed against the cold tombstone steps. She seemed to use all her strength, crying out loud. “Lily, my precious daughter, Mom misses you so much!” “It’s all Mom’s fault for not protecting you, letting that evil spirit harm you!” “If only that troublemaker had died instead!” Dad stood beside her, silently looking at Lily’s photo, his eyes slightly red. He rarely showed emotion, but I knew he missed Lily too. I floated to Mom’s side, watching her shoulders tremble violently. My heart ached as if a large hand was squeezing it tight. I reached out my transparent hand, wanting to wipe away her tears, but I couldn’t touch her. Mom, please don’t cry. Chloe knows she made a mistake. I’ll never fly a kite again. Look, I’m very good now. I’ll never… make you angry again. Back home, Mom sat on the couch, hugging Lily’s photo frame, her beautiful eyes red and swollen. Dad poured her a cup of hot water. He looked at my still-empty room, his brows slightly furrowed. “The rain was so heavy last night. I wonder where she’s hiding.” Mom excitedly interrupted him, clutching the photo frame even tighter. “Why worry about her? She’s just hiding on purpose to make us worry!” “She’s always known how to play the victim since she was little. She’s not even worth a single strand of Lily’s hair!” Dad opened his mouth but finally stayed silent. Maybe he was just a little worried about me. When Lily first passed away, Mom would have an emotional breakdown whenever she saw me, demanding that I pay for Lily’s life. Back then, Dad would still shield me, gently and rationally telling Mom. “Chloe is just a child, she didn’t know this would happen.” As Mom’s depression worsened and her outbursts became more frequent, Dad gradually stopped defending me or speaking up for me. Sometimes he would even join Mom in blaming me. But I knew it wasn’t Mom and Dad’s fault, because I also felt it was all my fault. Another day passed. Mom was wiping Lily’s photo frame when she suddenly scoffed. “Chloe is really determined to go against us.” Dad agreed without hesitation. “Yeah, she’s getting more and more disobedient. She’ll come back after missing a couple of meals.” They were convinced that I was being willful and throwing a tantrum. But how I wished I could tell them. I wasn’t willful, and I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I just couldn’t come back. My body was still on that cold hillside, with that hard rock, slowly decaying, turning into trash.
Evening fell. I still wasn’t home. My parents sat in the living room. They were braced for a dirty, trembling figure begging at the door. But she never showed up. Dad went to the balcony to call a friend from the village. I drifted behind him, a silent ghost. His friend’s voice came through, earnest and clear. He’d asked around, but no one had seen any child enter the village in the last two days.. When he hung up and walked back inside, Mom hadn’t moved from the couch. Her face was the colour of ash. “Well?” Dad lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled gray smoke rings. “No one’s seen her.” Mom crossed her arms, fuming. “Good for Chloe! She’s got nerve now! Does she want to drive us all crazy before she’s satisfied?!” Dad let out an almost imperceptible sigh and flicked his cigarette ash. “It’s probably like last time, she’s afraid you’ll scold her, so she’s hiding at a friend’s house.” Last time, Mom also abandoned me in the suburbs to fly a kite. Coincidentally, my friend’s dad brought her to fish. On their way back, they gave me a ride home. Because it was so late, I stayed at my friend’s house overnight. The next day, when I came home, I was met with Mom’s fierce wrath. “Now you’ve started staying out all night? So shameless at such a young age!” She made me kneel all night until Dad returned from his business trip. My knees were so swollen I couldn’t stand. Mom’s voice suddenly rose, sharp and grating, after hearing Dad’s words. “Afraid I’ll scold her? Was I wrong to scold her?! She deserves it!” “If it weren’t for her, Lily wouldn’t be dead? How else would our family have ended up like this?!” Dad remained silent, just holding Mom’s hand, caressing it to comfort her. I floated in the air, softly saying. “Mom, I’m sorry.” “Chloe wants to come home too. Will you come look for me at the hillside where I flew the kite, please?” “Bring Chloe home.” But they couldn’t hear me. Mom finally gritted her teeth and made her decision. “Since she’s so rebellious, let’s just ignore her!” “I’d like to see how long this brat can fight against us!” Dad nodded softly. Once again, they reached a consensus to ignore me. Another two days passed. Spring break had ended, and I still hadn’t returned. The house was eerily quiet. Mom never mentioned me. Dad looked at the newspaper but hadn’t turned a page in a long time. Just then, Dad’s phone rang. It was Ms. Davies, my teacher. He put the phone on speaker and set it on the table. “Mr. Miller, Chloe wasn’t in school today. Is everything all right?” Dad opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Mom snatched the phone, her tone flat. “Chloe decided to play hooky. Thank you for your concern.” Ms. Davies was silent for a moment, then instinctively defended me. “Chloe has always been a model student, she’s never-” Ms. Davies. ” Mom’s voice cut across hers, sharp with the venom of long-held grievance. “You’ve been taken in. Chloe is a manipulator.” “She’s never given me a moment of peace since she was little. She’s spoiled and selfish. And she killed my Lily!” “My sweet, perfect Lily is dead because of her.” Ms. Davies sighed. “I heard about what happened with Lily. It was just an accident.” “She was the one who pulled Chloe to fly the kite. No one can predict the weather, so it really wasn’t Chloe’s fault.” Hearing Ms. Davies’ words, I was stunned. So it was Lily who had asked me to go. My blurry memories suddenly became clear. Back then, school had assigned us a kite-making project. Lily burst into my room, her face alight, clutching the butterfly kite she’d painted herself. Mom stood in the doorway, watching us with a soft smile. Later on the hill, Mom got a call, and after reminding Lily to look after me, she left. So, when the storm came, Lily held me tightly in her arms. But the kite string wrapped around her own neck… My mother’s voice, raw and vicious, shattered the memory.Her face was twisted with rage. “Chloe is my daughter. You think you know her? My Lily was an angel. Only Chloe would be so reckless!” “So reckless that she’s been gone for seven days!” Ms. Davies was astonished. “Victoria, your daughter hasn’t been home for seven days, and you’re not worried?” Mom snorted. “What’s there to worry about? She just doesn’t want to come back to school. It’d be best if she died out there!” On the other end of the phone, Ms. Davies was silent for a moment, then her voice, barely containing her anger, said. “Your child hasn’t been home for seven days, and you haven’t even looked for her? What kind of parents are you?” “If Chloe isn’t back in school tomorrow, I will report it to the school and call the police.” With that, she hung up. Mom and Dad stared at each other, disbelieving. “She’s just a pathetic teacher! Who does she think she’s scaring?” Dad thought for a moment, then still pulled the grumbling Mom and drove to the suburbs. The setting sun cast its last golden rays on that familiar hillside. And my body was still there, waiting.
Dad walked up the hillside, calling my name loudly. “Chloe!” “Stop hiding! Come home with Mom and Dad! We won’t be angry with you!” Mom also yelled. “Chloe! Enough of your games! Get out here this instant!” “If you don’t show yourself, I swear I will cut you out of this family for good!” Their shouts echoed hollowly in the valley, but there was no response. Mom, Dad…I’m right here. I can’t come out. Please don’t cast me out… Dad looked down and saw the kite spool lying on the ground again. He frowned, a vague sense of annoyance making him kick it away, muttering. “Always playing around! Never gives us a moment’s peace!” Mom wasn’t feeling well, so Dad let her rest where she was and went to search the hillside himself. He suddenly stopped, sniffing hard. A faint, indescribable smell of decay, carried by the wind, wafted intermittently up from below the hillside. He instinctively pinched his nose, a look of disgust on his face, and mumbled. “These villagers have no manners, throwing whatever dead things down the slope. It stinks!” He was hesitating whether to brave the stench and search down the slope. Just then, Mom screamed from behind him. Dad looked back, anxiously asking. “Victoria, what’s wrong?” Mom’s voice came from up the slope, laced with her usual impatience. “Did you find her? Where is she hiding and playing dead? I got bitten by ants!” “Does she really expect us to get on our knees and beg her before she’ll come back?!” Dad looked at the steep slope, smelled the unpleasant odor, and finally backed down. He turned to Mom, his face a mask of guilt. “No, I’ve looked everywhere. She’s probably not here.” “She might really have gone to a friend’s or relative’s house. Let’s go back and call around.” He turned, quickly pulled Mom to the car, and they left. Another day passed. I had been dead for over a week. The house was eerily quiet, the air seemingly frozen. Dad didn’t go to work. He sat on the couch, staring out the window, unconsciously fiddling with the remote control. Ms. Davies sent my parents the class yearbook she had made. Mom picked up her phone, opened the yearbook, and aimlessly scrolled through it. Finally, her finger stopped on a photo. It was a picture she had casually taken of me that day she left me in the suburbs. In the photo, I was holding the kite, a hopeful, pleading smile on my face. After a moment of silence, she slammed the phone onto the table. “How can this brat be so cruel?!” “She’s the one who killed my Lily, and now she’s throwing a tantrum and disappearing?” “Does she want to push me to jump off a building before she’s satisfied?!” Dad tried to say something, but his phone rang at that exact moment. He picked it up, annoyed, but then saw an unfamiliar local number and a glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes. Dad turned to Mon. “Maybe it’s Chloe, calling from another phone!” Mom snorted. “Well, answer it! I want to hear how Chloe begs for forgiveness!” His hand trembled as he fumbled for the answer button. The voice that came through was calm, measured, professional. “Hello, is this David Miller, Chloe’s father?” “Yes, speaking.” Dad quickly replied. “Sir, this is the police. We’ve recovered the body of a young girl in the southern outskirts, near Everbrook Village.” “Based on our preliminary examination and identification, we have confirmed the deceased is your daughter, Chloe Miller.”
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