Her Neglect, My Undying Haunted Soul

Eva Graham POV:

My grandmother' s breath hitched, a sharp, gasping sound that made Hilda pause. The air in the opulent living room, usually so stifling, crackled with an unfamiliar tension. I watched from my unseen perch, a knot forming where my stomach used to be.

"How dare you?" Gwendolyn' s voice, usually a delicate whisper, was a whip-crack. "How dare you speak of your daughter that way? Have you no heart, Hilda? No motherly instinct?"

Hilda recoiled, her perfectly made-up face registering shock. "Mother, don't be dramatic. Eva is fine. She's just being difficult, as always."

"Difficult?" Gwendolyn slammed her cane against the polished floor. The sound echoed through the room. "She is your child, Hilda! And you speak of her as if she were a troublesome pet. Do you hear yourself? She's been gone for months, and you dismiss it as a 'tantrum'?"

I closed my eyes, if ghosts could close their eyes. She does care. Someone still cares.

"Eva has always been a sensitive child," Gwendolyn continued, her voice trembling now. "And you, Hilda, you have always tormented her. Always picking at her, always comparing her to Carina. It's sickening."

Hilda' s face hardened. "She's jealous, Mother. She always has been. It's not my fault if she can't handle other people's happiness."

"Happiness?" Gwendolyn scoffed. "You call that happiness? You've nurtured a viper under your roof, Hilda, and you've driven your own flesh and blood away. Now, you will call Eva. Right now. You will make her listen. And you will apologize."

Hilda hesitated, her eyes darting towards Iain, who merely shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was her silent accomplice, the one who always let her lead, always chose peace over truth.

I remembered the last time I saw them all, two months ago. The family had gone on a luxury glamping trip, a forced attempt at togetherness. I, ever the desperate one, had gone, hoping for a sliver of connection, a crumb of their affection.

Carina, of course, had orchestrated the "accident." We were hiking near a cliff edge, and she'd feigned a twisted ankle, screaming that I had pushed her. Their reaction was swift, brutal. Hilda hadn't even let me speak.

"Get out of my sight, Eva!" she' d yelled, her hand striking my face. The sting was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. "You are a menace! Always causing problems!"

Heartbroken, disoriented, I had wandered off the trail, the words echoing in my ears. The storm had rolled in quickly, the wind whipping my hair, the rain blinding me. I' d slipped, falling into a deep, hidden ravine. I broke my leg. I was trapped. Alone.

My fading phone battery had been my last hope. I' d called Hilda, again and again. Begging her to pick up. Begging for help. But she never did. Carina had their phone. Carina had answered one of my desperate pleas, heard my screams, and then hung up. She' d blocked my number, deleted the call logs, to "protect" Hilda. And I had died there, alone and cold, my pleas unheard.

Now, Hilda sat in her gilded cage, complaining to Gwendolyn about my supposed "tantrums."

"She's probably just sulking somewhere, feeling sorry for herself," Hilda said, dismissing Gwendolyn's concerns with a wave of her hand. "She's always been so dramatic. She probably just ran off because she's jealous of Carina's success. She always hated being second best."

Second best? I was never even in the race, Mother.

I remembered Gwendolyn's home, the only place I ever felt safe, ever felt loved. When I was small, after you and Father decided I was a burden, she took me in. She taught me to draw, to see the beauty in the mundane. She was my anchor.

You would visit, sometimes. Brief, strained encounters where your eyes would gloss over mine, as if I were a stranger. You'd ask polite questions, then quickly turn your attention to the latest fashion trend or a charity event. I longed for your touch, your praise, anything.

When you finally decided I was old enough to "join the family," I was ecstatic. I thought it meant you wanted me. I packed my meager belongings, dreaming of a real family, a real home.

But I was wrong. I was just another accessory, a prop in your perfect life. Carina had the latest clothes, the expensive gadgets, the private tutors. Kellan had his sports cars and endless allowances. I had hand-me-downs and a tiny room tucked away in the attic. My dreams of a shared life quickly crumbled, replaced by the crushing weight of their indifference.

I remembered the bright red bicycle I'd coveted for my tenth birthday. Carina got a pony that year. I got a lecture on fiscal responsibility. I learned quickly not to ask, not to hope.

I tried so hard to please them. I studied, I volunteered, I even tried to bond with Carina, despite her constant barbs. I was a ghost in my own home, desperate for acknowledgment. But every effort was met with a shrug, a sigh, or a cutting remark.

Now, as a true ghost, I no longer sought their approval. The longing had curdled into a bitter acceptance.

Gwendolyn' s eyes, usually so sharp, were now filled with sorrow. "Hilda, I am warning you. If Eva is not at my jubilee, I will donate every penny of my fortune to charity. Every single penny. Do not think I am bluffing."

Hilda's face paled. The threat struck her where it hurt most: her carefully constructed facade, her financial security. She glanced at Iain, a silent plea for him to intervene, but he merely cleared his throat again, avoiding her gaze.

"She's probably just trying to make us sweat, Mother," Iain said, a weak attempt at defiance. "Eva is always so manipulative, always looking for a handout."

Manipulative? I only ever wanted your love.

"I will personally ensure she attends," Hilda said, her voice tight with suppressed fury. "I'll track her down. If she thinks she can get away with this, she has another thing coming."

She grabbed her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. She tried my number again, then my old email, then social media. Nothing. The frustration mounted in her, twisting her features.

"Damn that girl!" she finally exploded, throwing the phone onto a plush sofa cushion. "She's completely vanished! It's like she wants to spite me!"

Kellan, who had been quietly scrolling through his phone, finally looked up. "Maybe she'll show up for Grandma's party anyway? Eva always loved Grandma."

A small, genuine concern flickered in his eyes, quickly extinguished as he caught Carina's disapproving glance.

Hilda and Iain exchanged a look. "You think so?" Hilda asked, a sliver of hope in her voice. "She wouldn't miss it, would she?"

They seemed to latch onto the idea, clinging to it like a life raft. A wave of manufactured relief washed over them.

Just then, Kellan, who had switched channels, let out a gasp. "Whoa, check this out!"

On the large flat-screen TV, a news anchor's sombre face appeared. "Breaking news tonight: Authorities have cordoned off a section of the New England National Park after significant findings were made in a remote ravine. While details are scarce, police confirm they are investigating a potential crime scene and have advised the public to stay clear of the area."

The camera panned to a heavily wooded area, yellow police tape fluttering in the wind. A dark, jagged crevice was visible in the distance. The very place I had died. The image on the screen, a chilling premonition, hung heavy in the air.