That year, when I was five, my sister and I were kidnapped. After we were rescued, Mom slapped me across the face. “If you hadn’t thrown a fit about going outside, Holly wouldn’t have been hurt and ended up with her mind crippled!” From that day on, I became the family’s sinner. When Holly’s wheelchair needed to go up the steps, and my strength wasn’t enough, Mom would pinch my arm hard. When Holly’s candy fell into the drain, Mom forced me to dig it out with my bare hands. Dad tried to ease the tension between us, but Mom snapped at him, “She ruined Holly’s mind, she deserves to die!” It wasn’t until Holly was playing in the yard and the big brother next door took her to his basement. I cried as I pushed Holly out, but I was dragged in myself. When I came home covered in blood, Mom just pointed a furious finger at me and snarled: “Willow Song, who are you trying to scare looking like that?” “How could I have given birth to such a worthless child? I wish I’d never had a daughter like you!” I quietly pulled out a red cloth pouch from deep inside my closet. Inside was the golden pendant Mom used to give me, shaped like a heart, which she carved herself. I stared at it for a long time, then calmly swallowed it. Mom, I don’t want your love anymore. I just want you to be happy forever.
The pendant was a bit too big, and it got caught in my throat, making me so uncomfortable. I swallowed hard and drank many glasses of cold water. After a lot of effort, it finally *gurgled* down. My stomach felt heavy, a little cold, and it hurt a bit. Mom used to tell me stories about swallowing gold to commit suicide, afraid I’d eat random things. I was a little scared, but also a little relieved. If I died, would the pain go away? Would my heart stop hurting so much? When Mom pushed the door open, she didn’t notice the empty glass in my hand. “Willow, stop just staring into space all day. Go make Holly’s bed.” I followed her out, every step making my stomach ache. Holly’s bed was piled high with dolls. I reached out to tidy them, but my fingertips trembled uncontrollably. Mom pushed me away forcefully, “Clumsy! You can’t even do *this* right!” I bumped into the wardrobe, and a metallic taste welled up in my throat. Dad heard the commotion, sighed, and tried to reason, “Willow looks unwell. Let her rest for a bit.” Mom immediately glared at him, “She’s just faking it to get sympathy. Holly is the one who needs looking after.” I noticed Holly’s hairpin on the floor, the one Mom bought her just yesterday. I reached down to pick it up, but suddenly felt nauseous. Mom saw me vomit all over the floor and grabbed my hair. “Are you doing this on purpose? Trying to make a disgusting mess for us?” “You’re just jealous that I’m good to your sister, you demon.” I looked up, trying to force a smile, but as my lips curved up, tears streamed down instead. “Mom, my stomach hurts so much…” She let go, her eyes as cold as ice. “If you’re in pain, go back to your room. Don’t cause trouble here.” Dad opened his mouth, but ended up just holding Holly to lighten the mood. “Brenda, let’s take Holly for a walk.” Before leaving, Mom told Dad, “Have Mr. Miller next door keep an eye on Willow.” A warm feeling flowed through me. Maybe Mom still cared about me. But the next second, Mom looked at me impatiently, “Don’t let her cause any more trouble. Haven’t we suffered enough because of her?” She wasn’t worried about me getting hurt alone at home; she was afraid I’d cause trouble. But I didn’t like that man. He made me hurt so much. Dad exchanged a few words with Mr. Miller, and he walked over, smiling. “Willow, come over to my place and watch cartoons.” Mom said coldly from the side, “You be good and don’t cause us any trouble!” “Listen to Mr. Miller, and don’t be so gloomy all the time. It’s just bad vibes to be around you!” I didn’t dare resist anymore. Mom and Dad would get upset. Mr. Miller didn’t turn on the TV. Instead, he carried me to the basement. I smelled a nauseating, thick odor. There were no cartoons or candy, only an old mat and a whip. He put a hand on my hair. “I’ll teach you another game, okay?” “Your mom left you with me, so you have to listen to me.” I didn’t move. If I moved, Mom would get angry. If Mom got angry, she wouldn’t want me anymore. The gold pendant in my stomach suddenly felt so heavy, the pain made me flinch. He noticed I was trembling and spat, “You little bitch, you weren’t already *used up* this afternoon, were you?” My legs felt weak, and he half-supported, half-dragged me back home. Mr. Miller put me on my bed, roughly pulling the blanket over me, covering my head completely. His voice was particularly harsh, “When your parents come back, tell them you were just sleepy and fell asleep on your own, got it?” “Don’t you dare tell them what I did to you. Even if you did, no one would believe you!” Actually, he didn’t need to tell me. I wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad. Before, when the boy next door bullied me, Mom said I was being immature, and too young to be learning bad things. I bit my lip hard under the blanket, trying not to cry out loud. The blanket was thick, and I felt a bit breathless, but my body kept getting colder. I heard Mom and Dad bringing Holly back from outside. Holly was giggling, “Mom, I want a story!” Mom’s voice was so gentle, a tone I hadn’t heard in a long, long time. “Of course, Mom will tell a story to her little princess.” Their laughter sounded so beautiful, like Holly’s favorite musical box. But Mom never let me touch that musical box. I heard Mr. Miller in the living room, speaking in a hushed voice, “Willow was tired from playing. She looked so sleepy, so I sent her back to her room to sleep.” Mom seemed to say, “Good, she’s asleep. Saves me from getting annoyed looking at her.” Dad seemed to say something, and then Mom’s voice rose, “She’s just bad luck. If it had been her who died, our Holly wouldn’t be like this…” I couldn’t hear the rest. I was covered by the blanket, in pitch darkness. My stomach hurt so much, even more than when Mom hit me. There was also a metallic taste in my throat. Mom and Dad, I feel so unwell. Gold tastes terrible. If I fall asleep, will you come and look at me just once?
Daylight broke, and my stomach didn’t hurt anymore. The metallic taste in my throat was gone too. My body felt so light. I had turned into a mermaid bubble, just like in Mom’s fairy tales. I floated out from under the blanket. It was so fun, I could see my own little bed. The blanket was plump, and inside, a tiny me was still lying there. Mom pushed the door open, annoyed. “Willow, the sun’s already hitting your butt, get up! You need to go to kindergarten!” I waved at her from the ceiling. “Mom, I’m up! I’m right here!” But she didn’t seem to hear or see me. Mom’s face was filled with anger, glaring at the bulging blanket on the bed. Dad also came, standing at the door with a sigh. “Let her sleep a bit more. She didn’t look too well yesterday.” Mom immediately turned and yelled at Dad, “What do you mean ‘not well’? She’s just lazy, faking sick to skip school!” “Look how good Holly is, she already got dressed herself!” Holly skipped to the door and called out, “Willow, you lazybones!” I really wanted to tell Holly that I wasn’t lazy. I didn’t need to sleep anymore. But they couldn’t see me or hear me speak. Mom angrily walked to the bed. I quickly floated down, wanting to hold her hand. But my hand passed right through her arm. She didn’t pull back the blanket to look, still muttering accusations. “Sleeping like a pig, wrapped up so tight in your blanket.” Mom picked up the empty water glass from my bedside table, then scoffed, “The water’s all gone. Guess there’s nothing really wrong.” I floated through the wall to the living room and saw Dad opening the door. Mr. Miller poked his head in and asked, “Where’s Willow? Why haven’t I heard anything from her today?” Mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “She was tired from playing yesterday. Can’t even wake her up.” Mr. Miller seemed to sigh in relief and quickly left. He must have been afraid I’d tell Mom and Dad about how he hurt me. But, I won’t say anything now. The sun shone in, but I didn’t feel warm anymore; my body felt constantly cold. In the living room, Mom and Dad were watching cartoons with Holly. I leaned against the doorframe, watching them. Dad glanced at my room. “Willow hasn’t eaten all day. I’ll go wake her up.” Mom immediately cut him off. “She won’t die from skipping one meal. She’s just trying to manipulate you because she knows you’re soft-hearted.” “She’s so manipulative at such a young age. Just ignore her. Let’s see how long she can actually sleep for!” Holly mimicked Mom, waving her small hand: “Willow, naughty!” No one came to check on me. Mom, I’m not naughty. I really am awake. See, I’ve been floating here for so, so long. It’s just that me, the one lying in bed, she doesn’t seem to want to wake up anymore.
In the afternoon, Chloe, my friend from kindergarten, came looking for me. Chloe held up a doll and said shyly, “Aunt Brenda, is Willow home? This is a gift my mom and I bought for her!” Mom’s face instantly twisted, looking incredibly sour. She blocked the doorway, not letting them in, her tone stiff: “She’s fine, just throwing a tantrum because she doesn’t want to go to kindergarten. Faking sick, as usual!” Chloe’s mom, Sarah, looked a bit embarrassed and whispered, “I always thought Willow was such a good girl.” “My daughter was being bullied at kindergarten, and Willow even got hurt trying to protect her!” Mom reacted like she’d been stung, her voice rising to a frantic shriek, “What do *you* know? She wants to destroy this entire family!” “Willow is a demon! She hurt her sister!” “If she were even half as considerate as *your* daughter, do you think I’d be this exhausted?” Chloe was scared and started crying. Sarah, with a displeased look, picked her up and left. Mom closed the door, her chest still heaving, muttering continuously: “She’s not well-behaved at all! You’ve all been fooled by her!” I floated beside Mom, looking at her distorted face, feeling a little sad. Mom, I really wanted to be a good child, one you didn’t have to worry about. Dad came into the bedroom once. He stood by my bed for a long time. He sighed and whispered, “Willow, Dad knows you’ve been hurting.” “But your mom… with everything that happened to Holly, she’s on the verge of a breakdown. She’s hurting inside, too.” He tried to reach out and touch me, but his hand stopped in mid-air and then he pulled it back. Dad pulled up the corner of my blanket. “Sleeping will make the sadness go away. Tomorrow, I’ll make you your favorite fried eggs.” He turned and left, his back looked so bent, like he was carrying the world. Dad, I’m asleep now, and I’m not sad anymore. But tomorrow’s fried eggs, I don’t think I’ll be able to wait for them. Before going to bed, Mom came in and glanced at me, complaining: “I must owe you from another life; you were born to be my torment.” “All day long, all you do is sleep. Even a pet cat or dog would bring more joy.” She walked to the bed. How I wished she would frantically feel my forehead, like when Holly had a fever, and pick me up. But she just poked my shoulder hard through the blanket. “Willow, stop faking it, get up now!” I didn’t react at all. Mom’s eyebrows furrowed tightly, “So stubborn, huh? Fine, then. See if you can sleep forever.” Holly was startled by the sound of her forcefully closing the door and cried, saying she was scared. Mom carried Holly past my room, gently humming a song. “Moon so bright, winds so still, leaves dancing on the sill… close your eyes, my sweet, sweet child…” She used to hum that song to me too. Back when Holly wasn’t born yet. She would hold me and rock me, telling me I was her little treasure. But that was a long, long time ago, so long it felt like another lifetime. The next day at noon, I still hadn’t woken up. Mom started to get anxious. “This stubborn girl, she can’t really be sick, can she? She won’t wake up no matter what I do.” Dad was also a bit nervous. “I’ll go check on her.” But Mom changed her mind again and stopped him. “Check what? She’s faking it. If you go now, she’ll be thrilled!” They thought I was silently throwing a tantrum. But Mom and Dad, I wasn’t throwing a tantrum with you. I just couldn’t wake up anymore.
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