Mom, Love Me Again

But my soul lingered on. I floated above, watching a group of strangers gather around my body, desperately trying to wake me. It struck me as somewhat amusing that these unfamiliar faces cared about my fate while my own mother, Diane, seemed completely indifferent.

I couldn't help but wonder what my parents were doing at that moment.

As those thoughts swirled in my mind, I drifted back home, only to find Diane in the kitchen, preparing a feast.

The spread was filled with all of Marlon's favorite dishes.

I almost forgot that today marked the anniversary of his death.

In our household, my preferences were never on the table.

I loved seafood, but Diane always said Marlon was allergic, and that seafood was too expensive, so I was never allowed to indulge.

Marlon had been so good to me growing up, yet I felt like I had caused his death.

If it hadn't been for that birthday when our parents were away, and I insisted on him taking me out for fun, he might still be alive.

Diane could be harsh, but Marlon always protected me.

He saved his pocket money just to buy me treats and those little dolls sold by the school gate.

All my classmates had them, and I wanted one too, but when I told Diane the price, she shut me down immediately.

"That little trinket could buy Marlon a study guide! You spoiled brat, how could you even ask for money for toys? Money doesn't grow on trees, and you don't earn any, so save it!"

Meanwhile, she showered Marlon with cash, saying he needed to reward himself for all the hard work he put into his studies.

Of course, Marlon worked hard; I didn't.

The family had money for him but not for me.

I was just the daughter, a financial burden, while Marlon was the son, the one who would support our parents in their old age.

Gradually, I stopped voicing my desires to Diane and began seeking out Marlon to fulfill them instead.

I'd heard from classmates that the church on the mountain outside town was a place where wishes came true, but it was too far for me to go alone.

So, on my birthday, I begged Marlon to take me there. I wanted to wish for our family to become wealthy, often dreaming that if we had money, maybe Diane would treat me better.

After making my wish, I even asked for a cross for Marlon, hoping it would keep him safe so I could always rely on him for goodies and fun.

But sadly, on our way back down, it got dark and started to rain.

The mountain path became treacherous.

Marlon insisted I walk on the inside for safety, and in trying to protect me, he lost his footing and fell.

By the time they found him, it was already noon the next day.

But what they found was his cold, lifeless body, his face drained of color, clutching the cross he had gained back from me.

It was an accident, but Diane blamed me.

If I hadn't insisted on Marlon accompanying me, if I hadn't thrown a fit to come to such a remote place, he might've been rescued in time.

But because it was so isolated, we missed the critical window for help, and Marlon bled out.

I often thought about how helpless Marlon must have felt; he was just a kid.

Diane put all the blame on me, which meant I was never allowed to celebrate my birthday again.

I guess I was foolish, holding onto the hope that Diane might show me some kindness on my birthday, thinking that her not outright killing me was a blessing.

What a delusion that was!

As they packed up the food and headed out to the cemetery, I floated above.

I heard Diane softly murmur to the gravestone, her eyes lingering on Marlon's picture, "Marlon, your mom and dad are here to see you, with your favorite dishes."

Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes as Vincent gently patted her shoulder.

"You've been so kind to Marlon over the years," Vincent began, but Diane cut him off with a surge of emotion.

"If it weren't for her, Marlon would still be alive!" Diane's voice cracked. "Vincent, it's our fault, Ashley and mine, we've shamed the Keaton family."

Vincent hesitated, "Actually, Ashley..."

"She won't be coming back," Diane interrupted, wiping away her tears. "Vincent, if you find the house too quiet, maybe we should have another child."

Vincent remained silent, the weight of his sigh hanging in the air.

Hardly had they kicked me out when they began planning to replace me as if I had never existed. I thought as a spirit, I would be beyond pain, but the ache in my heart persisted.

I couldn't cry, but the wound bled silently, a testament to my fractured family.