Mom, I'll Never Eat Ice Cream Again

Owen's body couldn't just stay there. Mom and Dad needed to send him to the funeral home.

Dad sighed helplessly. "We should bring Ivy too. They're siblings, after all. She should be there to see Owen off."

"She doesn't deserve to see my son off. Tell her to get lost. She has no right to show up at Owen's funeral!" Mom snapped.

Dad ignored Mom's fury and called for me several times.

I desperately wanted to answer him, but I couldn't make a sound. My body was transparent.

When no one responded, Mom grew even angrier and swept everything off the table onto the floor. "That wretched girl has no heart! What did I do to deserve a daughter like this?

"All she does is braid that stupid hair and fuss over herself. She's only eight years old and already so vain. I don't know who she takes after.

"First, she kills her own brother. And now, when it's time to say goodbye to him one last time, she's hiding somewhere. When I get back, I'll kill her myself."

At the funeral, Mom and Dad sobbed their hearts out. Mom especially looked like she might collapse from crying.

"Owen, I worked so hard just to save up money to buy you a house someday. Now that you're gone, I have nothing left to look forward to."

Even though Owen was dead, I was still here. They still had me. I was their daughter too.

Dad held Mom tenderly, his eyes brimming with heartache. I wanted to reach out and wipe away Mom's tears, but I was dead now.

When they returned home, neither of them mentioned me. It wasn't until the next day that Dad finally said something about calling me for dinner.

Before he could even finish, Mom's emotions flared up again. "Why bother calling her? She's old enough to feed herself.

"If she's not eating, she must be sneaking food somewhere else. And if she does starve, she'd deserve it.

"She killed my Owen. What's she still living for? She should have died instead of my Owen."

She didn't have to worry. I was already dead. I could keep Owen company now.

I never understood why Mom hated me so much. Once, when Owen was asleep, I went to the bathroom, and she pointed a finger at me and screamed.

"You little brat, you did that on purpose! You just wanted to disturb my son's sleep."

After that, I didn't even dare drink much water. I only used the bathroom once a day.

Owen was mischievous and liked riding on my back like I was a horse. He was so heavy I could barely hold him up, but I still gritted my teeth and carried him around in circles again and again.

Even the ice cream this time, Dad only gave it to me when Mom wasn't home. Owen could eat ice cream whenever he wanted.

I just wanted so badly to know what ice cream tasted like. That was the only reason I didn't give it to him.