My mom always said that to give my sister and me fair love, we’d use a lottery system. Whoever drew the long stick, my sister or I, would get what they wanted: favorite food, new clothes, even a hug and a kiss from our parents. But I always drew the short stick. I told Mom it wasn’t fair, but she sharply rebuked me. “If you can’t draw the long stick, you only have your bad luck to blame!” Then came my birthday. Chloe wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom made us decide with the draw-sticks again. I secretly glued the two sticks together. But Mom slapped me hard, yelling that I was cheating and disobedient, then took Chloe to the amusement park. I fell to the floor, and those two sticks savagely pierced my neck. Warm liquid seeped from my neck, soaking into my hair. The floor was dirty. Mom would be even angrier. I tried to wipe it, but my body felt like air, floating in mid-air. It turned out I was dead. I knew what death was. When I was seven, Grandma Elsie also lay on the floor, just like this, and died. That day, she had a huge fight with Mom, calling Mom a conceited lunatic. “Love is love, and not loving is not loving. Why hide behind a draw-stick game? If you don’t want Mia, I’ll take her back to my place right now.” “Otherwise, throw away that damn draw-stick box and cherish both children equally!” Mom scoffed in return. “How I love my children has nothing to do with you. Of course, I cherish both of them.” “But there are always favorites, it’s uncontrollable. That’s why I bought this draw-stick box, to truly show no favoritism.” “They get what they want based on their own luck. David and I won’t interfere. If she can’t draw the long stick, it just means she’s unlucky!” Grandma Elsie was so furious she collapsed, unconscious, and never woke up again. Mom’s draw-stick system only grew worse after that. If there were two muffins at home, Mom would make Chloe and me draw. If I drew the short stick, the long stick was automatically Chloe’s. So, both muffins went to Chloe. We even drew sticks at dinner. I drew the short stick, so all the dishes cooked were Chloe’s favorites, even if I was allergic to some of them. Mom would just say, with a helpless sigh, “Rules can’t be broken. There’s nothing I can do. Why did you have to draw the short stick?” Even when I had a fever of 102 degrees and cried, begging her for a hug, Mom insisted I draw a stick. After I got the short one, she naturally hugged Chloe instead. “Mia, your luck really is terrible.” My entire life revolved around drawing sticks. Even in death, I was still thinking about it. Grandma Elsie’s coffin, when she was buried, was large and spacious. Mom bought it, and everyone praised Mom for how well she treated Grandma Elsie. I wanted Mom to be good to me too, because I’d slept in the same bed for five years, unable to stretch my legs. That, too, was the result of me drawing the short stick. I wanted to find Mom, to beg her to draw a stick for me. If I were truly lucky enough to draw the long stick, Mom would surely agree to buy me a big coffin. My soul drifted to the door, and suddenly I heard footsteps outside. My eyes lit up, and I saw Mom push open the door.
“Mom!” I excitedly floated closer. But Mom walked right through me. It hit me then: I couldn’t touch Mom anymore. I followed behind her, timidly stating my request. Mom couldn’t hear me, and she hadn’t returned out of worry for me anyway. She’d just forgotten her car keys. When Mom’s gaze fell on the bedroom door, I felt like a child who had done something wrong, anxiously explaining. “I didn’t mean to die, and I’ve made the house messy. I’m sorry, Mom, I’ll…” I said, crestfallen, “I can’t help clean up. I… I’m already dead…” Mom stopped at the bedroom door, her voice calm. “You’ve grown up so much you don’t even come out to greet me. Your temper’s gotten huge. You’re giving me attitude now.” “But let me tell you, sulking won’t help. You can only blame your own bad luck for drawing the short stick.” Seeing that I still didn’t open the door, Mom angrily twisted the doorknob. Just then, Chloe ran in. “Mom, hurry up! The amusement park is about to open.” Mom gave up on entering the bedroom, grabbing her car keys with a huff and walking out. “We’re going to play until night. We won’t be back for dinner. Eat the drumstick on the table for your supper. Don’t say I’m unfair.” “Chloe hasn’t even had any, and this time I didn’t even make you draw sticks. I’m practically playing favorites with you.” The drumstick on the table was Chloe’s leftover from yesterday. Mom had bought only this one drumstick when she came back from the supermarket, and made Chloe and me draw. I drew the short one again. I hadn’t eaten meat in a long time, and I was so hungry I just touched it. Mom had slapped my hand red and yelled at me in disgust. “You’ve forgotten all the rules, haven’t you? You drew the short stick, so the drumstick is Chloe’s. It has nothing to do with you. Touch it again and I’ll chop off your claws.” “I’ve never seen anyone as greedy as you. It’s like I’m starving you and never giving you food.” Today, she actually offered it to me. Mom was so good. I was so happy, but I forgot I was just a ghost now; I couldn’t even touch the drumstick. And a stray cat, Snowy, jumped in through the window and snatched the drumstick. It hissed at me, and I couldn’t stop it. I could only huddle sadly in the corner. I don’t know how much time passed, but Dad, Mom, and Chloe returned, beaming with happiness. “Mom, the pandas were so big and fluffy! I loved them so much! Mom, can you buy me one?” Mom dotingly kissed Chloe’s forehead, playfully chiding her, “Your mom isn’t that powerful.” Chloe hummed and took a step back. “Don’t kiss me! We haven’t drawn sticks yet. If Mia sees, she’ll start crying again about it being unfair.” “But maybe she’s already hiding in her bedroom, crying. It is her birthday today, after all.” Mom glanced at the table. The drumstick was gone. She let out a dry, indifferent chuckle, her tone utterly certain. “If she could draw the long stick, I’d kiss her too. Too bad she’s unlucky and didn’t draw it.” “Besides, she already ate the drumstick from the table. She’s just intentionally not coming out. Your sister is petty; don’t mind her.” No one could see me, and no one knew I had died in the bedroom. Mom started preparing supper. She called out to my bedroom in a strange tone, raising her voice. “Is someone *sure* they don’t want to come out and draw sticks? Then I’m making Chloe’s favorite dishes. Don’t come crying later about it being unfair.” Dad, watching TV, impatiently grumbled, “Why bother with her? If she doesn’t want to draw, just make Chloe’s favorite. Let her throw a fit!” “We raised her all these years, and she’s not even grateful. Instead, she holds a grudge against us. So ungrateful!” I stood nearby, thinking. What if I *had* drawn? For ten years, the dinner table had always been filled with Chloe’s favorite foods. I’d always just eaten plain, dry rice. But Mom and Dad hadn’t starved me. Had they?
Mom still ended up making Chloe’s favorite dishes. The three of them sat together, chatting and laughing, looking so happy and harmonious. Feeling a bit lonely, I floated closer to Mom. Suddenly, I noticed a cake box on the chair next to them. I proudly showed off to Snowy, who was crouched by the window. “See that? Dad and Mom bought me a cake! They didn’t forget it’s my birthday today!” Snowy eyed me, as if mocking me. Mom gave the cake to Chloe, saying she bought it especially for Chloe because she wanted it. As if afraid I’d hear, she even lowered her voice. “Take it to your bedroom and eat it secretly. Otherwise, your sister will find out and start crying to me again.” I’d only cried that one time, but Mom had mentioned it repeatedly for ten years. Actually, I wasn’t too sad, because I knew that even if I drew sticks, I’d only get the short one. I was unlucky. The cake would still go to Chloe. “I’ve never had cake before. Have you?” I asked Snowy. It suddenly jumped in, knocked the cake out of Chloe’s hands with a paw, and then darted back out. Chloe’s hand was scratched. She burst into tears. Mom, however, angrily grabbed a vase and smashed it violently against my bedroom door. “Mia, are you deliberately trying to hurt Chloe? Why didn’t you close the window?” Seeing that I still didn’t open the door, Mom was utterly enraged, but Dad held her back. “Enough! Forget about her for now. Let’s take Chloe to the hospital first. We’ll settle scores with her when we get back!” By the time they returned, it was already past midnight. Dad and Mom knocked on my door together. When there was no movement inside, they finally lost all patience, grabbing a hammer to break the door down. It was only when a neighbor complained that they stopped, shouting a stream of insults from outside. Mom bought Chloe a new princess dress. She twirled around, showing it off. “I cried when I got my shot, and Mom felt bad for me, so she took me to buy new clothes and delicious steak.” “You’ve never had it, have you? It’s your fault for being so unlucky. If you drew the long stick, Mom would take you to eat steak and buy new clothes too.” My blood seeped out from under the door. Chloe stepped in it and slipped. She shrieked, drawing Mom and Dad over. “What happened? Where’s all this blood coming from?” Dad looked at the crack under the door, shocked and panicked. “It looks like it’s coming from Mia’s room. Mia…” His suspicion was cut short by Chloe’s wailing. “I just wanted to show Mia my new dress, and she told me to get lost! That’s *my* blood! My head hurts so much!” Mom exploded. She furiously kicked the bedroom door. “Mia, get out here! You made Chloe bleed so much, and you still dare to hide inside!” This time, Mom was truly determined to open the door. Each kick was harder than the last. My corpse was repeatedly slammed by the door, becoming unrecognizable. I wondered if they would be scared when they saw me like this. The door didn’t break open, so Mom had to go bandage Chloe first, calling me a “wretched child” as she left. Actually, this wasn’t the first time Chloe had falsely accused me. Ever since we were little, whenever she made a mistake, she’d shriek and cry, then blame me. Mom was “fair.” She’d always say no matter who was right or wrong, we’d draw sticks first, and whoever drew the short stick would be punished. And every time, I was the one who got hit. If I were still alive, would I be locked in the attic without food or water this time, or forced to stand outside in the rain all night? I floated downstairs and suddenly noticed something. Tears welled in my eyes. And I finally understood why, for ten years, I had never drawn the long stick.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “329367”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance
Leave a Reply